#but he managed to steal back the chance for him to answer in this week's round

[sugume]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 

— 

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  

“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 

“Sweetheart...” 

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 

— 

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 

“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 

‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 

— 

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 

“What?” You ask. 

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Please—” 

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 

— 

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 

‘Oh wow.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 

‘And what is that?’ 

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  

You nod. 

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 

“N-no!” 

— 

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 

 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  

“No babydoll—” 

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 

“I know it’s a lot of information.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  

“Suguru—” 

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 

“You okay babydoll?”  

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  

“T-that was—” 

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 

“Same.” You smile before wincing. 

“What’s wrong babydoll.”  

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  

[viixenvi]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 | 18+

Summary: You have been planning to steal some information from the Avengers compound. You successfully break in but what happens when the one person you never wanted to see again ends up catching you?

Characters: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Warnings: Torture, fighting, reader gets caught and tied up, heavy make-outs, slight flirting, some oral (Nat receiving), reader leaves Nat high and dry, villain fem!reader (Reader and Nat hate fuck whenever they catch each other guys)

This was not my best work, actually kinda bad and not proofread so forgive mistakes and like forgive me if it's bad I just had this idea weeks ago and decided to actually write it at 3 AM

Minors DNI

It was only a matter of time before you could escape. Sneaking into the Avengers compound was hard, it took weeks of planning and landing a job as a maid.

Stark was always hiring and it was just perfect when you got a call back that you had been selected for the job. Of course, this job came with risks to your plan. If you were suspected at all by any of the avengers you'd be finished. Which is exactly why you had a disguise.

Shape shifting was your specialty. It had just happened oneday, you woke up with powers of some sorts. You had no idea how to control them or how you even got them.

You were hoping this hard drive you were planning to take had the answers to some of your problems. You could only change your appearance, make others see you differently.

The only person you had to avoid at all costs was Natasha. She knew things about you that you hadn't told anyone else. You and her had a long history, one that you prefer not to think about. You had fought her previously, working with Loki. That went down hill fast and you managed to stay low since then.

Now you were definitely going to set off their radars. You have a plan though, you always have a plan.

"Can you get the lab too while you are at it?" Tony asks me as I mop the floor. I look up and nod, giving him a shy smile. He walks away, his phone in his hand.

Perfect excuse to be in his lab. You walk towards the lab, your heart racing. It was time, finally. You felt relieved, it was finally going to be over and you'd never have to see the avengers ever again.

"You are not authorized to enter this area." The voice startles you slightly. J.A.R.V.I.S was a pain to deal with.

"Mr. Stark asked me to mop the lab," You tell him. You hear nothing or a minute before the card scanner beeps with a green light and the doors click. That was surprisingly..easy?

This was too easy, you hesitate for a moment. You glance around the lab before your eyes land on a hard drive. It's the hard drive. No way Tony would just leave this out conveniently, not when he knew there was a chance it would be stolen by anyone.

But it's right there, and you don't think you have another chance. So you slowly walk up to the table, pretending to mop and swiping the drive off the table.

It swiftly makes the journey to your pocket and you walk out of the lab, leaving the mop on the floor. You have no idea how you can get out without at least being detected.

Stark was far from stupid, but your powers deceived him enough. Now all you had to do was fake an emergency and leave. You pick up the phone, pretending to get a call and panicking.

You find Steve in the living room, cleaning his shield off. "Can you please tell Mr. Stark I have to leave? There's a family emergency!" You spit out before he can really react. You are in the elevator as he says he will.

Something about the way he looked at you was confusing. He didn't even ask if everything was alright like you thought he would. If Steve was one thing, he was compassionate.

You knew they knew about your plans, or at least that you were there to steal the drive. As if on cue, the elevator doors open and Natasha is staring right at your face.

"Hello милый," her voice is sweet, just like how it used to be. You stand there for a moment, drinking in her features. You had spent the past weeks avoiding her and you never got the chance to really see her.

"Natasha, any chance you can let me go?" You say, one hand on the back of your neck as you laugh awkwardly. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. So it's a no.

Her fist raises to your face and you block it, swiping your leg under hers. She falls back and manages to flip onto her feet. You land a punch to her face, which angers her.

She kicks your stomach, causing you to stumble back. Before you can even think, she punches your face. You can feel the blood gushing out of your nose. You wipe it away with your hand while Natasha stands in front of you. She's focused on your face and movements.

You could tell she was analyzing you. You both hadn't fought each other in a while and it was obvious you were holding back. You couldn't get yourself to hurt her.

Natasha runs past you, jumping up off the wall and wrapping her legs around your neck. You pin her arms back and lean down, flipping her over in front of you. She breaks free from your grasp and jumps, spinning and kicking you directly in the face.

You fall over and close your eyes, consciousness barely hanging on. Natasha is a damn good fighter and you could admit it. Natasha hovers over you, pulling the drive out of your pocket.

"Some things don't change," She says just before you black out.

When you finally wake up, pain surges through your body. The familiar metallic taste of blood in your mouth reminds you of what happened.

You move to pull your hands free but it seems they cuffed you with some heavy metal cuffs. They definitely seem to be stopping your powers from being used. You are in a bedroom, which seems to be weird for the team as they have their own interrogation room and cells.

A figure comes into view and you know it's Natasha. "It's funny, you always end up in front of me bound by something," She chuckles. I sigh and close my eyes, the headache pounding in my head is not helping the pain.

"If you are going to kill me, just do it."

Natasha pulls her knife out, pushing the tip under my chin and lifting my head. "Aw, you wound me, baby."

"Don't call me that," You spit, clenching your jaw. You and Natasha always had a love-hate relationship. You were a villain and her job was to kill them.

"Tell me why you need the drive and maybe we can have a little fun," She whispers in your ear. You decide to play along, long enough for her to get you out of these cuffs.

"If I tell you, will you take these cuffs off?" You ask, giving her a defeated look.

"Yes."

"They paid me to take it, said there are plans on it they need. I didn't get any other information. I just know that they can kill me easily." Natasha sits on the chair across from you, spinning her knife in her hand.

"Who?"

"I have no idea. Some alien guy, he's weird looking," You tell her. You try to steady your heartbeat and avoid actions that will tell her you are lying.

Natasha seems to like this answer because she gets up and walks behind you. A moment later, the cuffs are no longer clasped on your hands.

You feel Natasha's hands on your shoulders, gliding down your arms. You almost shiver at her touch. You don't want to play into this, but she has given you no choice.

There's a smile on her face when you spin around, your hands on her waist. Your lips meet hers and the kiss is almost electric. Her lips are soft and you taste the cherry lipgloss.

She pushes you onto the bed but you flip over and get on top of her, unzipping her suit. Her belt is thrown onto the floor, not before you take something out of it.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," You whisper against the skin of her neck. You kiss down it, your warm lips sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands roam your body, pulling up your shirt. You stop her before she can fully take it off. "No, let me take care of your first, baby."

She pulls you into a kiss before you descend down her body, leaving trails of kisses. You pull the rest of the suit down to her ankles, kissing up her thigh.

You reach her lips, kissing them before spreading her legs and pushing your face close. Your tongue glides over her clit, circling it. Natasha moans, lifting her hips up and throwing her head back.

You wanted so badly to finish what you started, but you needed the drive and Natasha wasn't going to distract you again.

So you pull away, crawling on top of her and grabbing her face to kiss her. You carefully place a tazer disk on her neck and get off her before activating it.

Natasha gasps and falls unconscious from the tazer and you cover her up with a blanket. This was payback for the last time she caught you. This was your thing, always leaving the other wanting more. It kept up the attraction.

This time you may have gone too far, but your life depended on getting this drive and you didn't care what you did to get it.

You won this time.

[typical-simplelove]

Third Time's the Charm (A. Svechnikov)

Author's Note: This is my submission for @wyattjohnston's 2024 Summer Fic exchange!! This is for @kurlyteuvo. So sorry that I didn't reach out as much to you and waited until the last day to post it; things have been crazy busy recently. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mostly proofread, but other than that, nothing that I can think of!!!

likes are appreciated, reblogs are better

Her friendship with Andrei started with a brief exchange in a coffee shop. Accidentally picking up her coffee order at the shop down the street from her apartment, he gave her a boyish grin, realizing it wasn’t his name on the cup. 

“Same order, eh?” he let out with a chuckle, a silly smile overtaking his face as he handed her the coffee. “We both like our coffee as light as we can get without getting judged.” 

“Something like that,” she replied, mesmerized by the twinkle in his eyes. With a few blinks and glances at this man, her periphery seemed to dim with Andrei glowing, almost as if he were stealing all the light in the coffee shop—no, the world. 

“For you,” Andrei says, not losing his smile. He holds the cup out to her; her name rolling off his tongue easily, too easy, in her opinion. “I read your name off the cup.” 

“I figured,” she answered, giving him an amused glance. 

Andrei didn’t have the chance to respond to her as the barista called out his name. He grabbed his order, giving the barista a quick thank you before turning back to the initial conversation. “Exactly the same. You can inspect the label, if you don’t believe me.” 

She let out a breathy laugh. “I believe you.” 

“Andrei,” he says, right before breathing out your name. When he said her name, it was as if it took no effort. Well, saying a word here or there didn’t evoke much effort from the majority of people, but the way Andrei so easily said her name made something deep in her stomach come alive once again. 

An aliveness she wasn’t in the mood to explore again. 

“I’ll be seeing you,” he replied, his smile growing wider. Is that possible when it has already reached his eyes? 

“See you,” she managed to get out at the last minute, but it sounded breathy as if she were flustered. Was she flustered? When was the last time someone had made her sound breathy and flustered? Using all these words makes her sound like a heroine in a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte novel. 

Is that what she’s been reduced to? Is that what Andrei has reduced her to? A heroine from a Regency-era novel? 

But then as she watched Andrei leave the coffee shop and walk past the window, he gave her a small wave, and then maybe it was okay that he made her feel confused but also empowered. 

Over the next couple of weeks, she kept running into Andrei, but not just at that coffee shop. At the grocery store, at the bookstore, at the Target across town, at the park, everywhere she frequented, he happened to be there, too. 

It was all random coincidences, but it made her feel ticklish and warm whenever she ran into him. 

From these chance encounters, she learned about Andrei. He was from Russia, and he played professional hockey for the Carolina Hurricanes. He loved his family with his entire being, and he was an absolute ray of sunshine. 

And, Andrei was single. 

She wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Did he drop that information on purpose, or was it just something he said to say? 

At this point, she wasn’t actively looking for a relationship. Actually, she was pretty sure she was doing everything she could not to be looking for a relationship. After things hadn’t gone her way in the past, she wasn’t ready to undo all the chains and locks and bridges and doors blocking her heart from anyone new. 

So, she slowly put Andrei in the friend zone. That’s where he would remain, and if he had any qualms or issues with it, then that would be his problem. She wasn’t opening her heart up to anyone. 

Even for stupidly handsome Andrei. Who always had a smile on his face. Who always seemed to emit sunshine to the point that everything outside the bubble he put between the two of them seemed to darken. Who always had something good to say and lived by the code, “If you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.” Who always made her laugh to the point that her stomach muscles were getting a workout and were sore the next day. 

Even for ridiculously hot Andrei. 

One night, after he spent a lot of time at these chance encounters convincing her, they had sat down for dinner at one of her favorite diners, hoping for a lowkey setting to fully shove Andrei into the proverbial friend zone. 

He sat across from her, however, a bright smile on his face, never wavering as he soaked in every word she said. She spoke about her family, work, education, and everything she could think of. 

But nothing could deter the eager but endearing look on his face as he got to know her further. 

“You seem to have a full life,” Andrei says in between bites of food. 

“Very,” she agrees. 

“Any romantic partners?” he asks, looking bashful at the prospect of asking her this question. 

She shakes her head. “Not right now, but who knows what the future has in store?” 

The minute the words left her mouth, she had no reason for why she said what she did. She went into this dinner fully ready to put Andrei in the friend zone, only wanting to be his friend (despite all his amazing qualities to be more than a friend). But she didn’t do that. She let Andrei believe that the chance for more was an ever-present thought. 

Well, now she’s getting ahead of herself. She was making the assumption that he was into her, and for all she knew, he just wanted to be her friend, right? 

This was what she decided to go with. Andrei wanted to be her friend, and assuming he wanted to be more than her friend was presumptuous. 

That settled it, then, she wasn’t going to lead him on because she didn’t want more, and who’s to say what he wanted? She couldn’t read his mind. 

However, as they said their goodbyes after finishing their evening together, promising to get together again soon, she couldn’t help the rosy warmth that spread through her body with their departure. 

She wouldn’t admit it, even internally, but deep down (super deep down), she knew that if anyone could open up her heart and life, it would likely be Andrei. 

There was something about him. 

Maybe Andrei was preparing to take her heart off the shelf. 

. . .

The local farmer’s market was one of her favorite places to spend her Saturday morning. Not only did they have amazing food and drinks vendors, but the assortment of flowers, crafts, clothes, and used-book vendors provided hours of entertainment and amusement that proceeded to spread into the week. 

And now, she was going with Andrei. 

Ever since that dinner at the diner, they’ve been texting non-stop. Throughout the day, Andrei was sneaking away from practice or training or media or whatever he had to do to text her back (not that she knew this), and she snuck her phone in between projects and meetings and phone calls and emails to text Andrei back, always giddy with excitement knowing she had an Andrei text to respond to and the anticipation of getting his response. 

After the work day ended, they continued conversing with each other, but this time there were no interruptions. Even when Andrei was on a road trip and in a different time zone, he always managed to find an hour or two to text her uninterrupted. 

That prioritization made her feel whimsical and flippant, but she chose to ignore what that could possibly mean. 

One Thursday, he asked how she was spending her weekend. He had no games that weekend and wanted to try to make plans with her. He didn’t tell her this; it was his intention behind the text. It took him fifteen minutes of agonizing to feel ready and confident to send the text nearly took him out; his cardiologist wouldn’t be happy with the spike in blood pressure. 

But he sent the text, and she responded, saying she was spending her morning at the farmer’s market. 

She didn’t offer for Andrei to go with her, but he was trying to find a nonchalant and non-creepy way to ask if he could join her. 

He didn’t have to stress about it, though, because she followed up the text with her plans with, “If you’re free, you could join me.” 

And that was the in he needed. 

He quickly typed out a reply, trying not to sound too eager, and said he’d be happy to join her. 

And with that, they settled on plans to meet on the upcoming Saturday, and Andrei went to bed that night happy and excited about what that day would entail. 

Standing by the marker point she mentioned in her text, Andrei was trying not to fidget. He had a few tote bags that he borrowed from a teammate’s wife in one hand, and his other was running up and down his shirt in an attempt to dry and wipe up the abundance of sweat forming. 

He was taking small, collected breaths to try to calm down. 

“Hey,” she said when she walked up to him, gently brushing his shoulder with her hand to alert him of her presence. 

“Hi,” he answers, all his nerves floating away. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“It’s really good to see you, too,” she answers, a bright smile beaming off her face. “Shall we head in?” 

“Yes, of course.”

Andrei’s nerves might have floated away, but her nerves definitely didn’t. If anything, they started to blossom and flounder in a way she never thought possible. 

When she asked Andrei to join her at the farmer’s market, she genuinely had no clue what she was doing. She planned on typing out a question, asking him what he was doing that weekend, but what ended up coming out was asking if he wanted to join her. 

As each second of the day got closer to the moment when she was going to meet him, her nerves continued to grow and build. She thought that at this point it would boil over and she’d reach maximum anxiety and stress about meeting him, but it never did. 

When she finally met up with him and saw him, the nerves didn’t plateau. Now, though, there were even more things to agonize and fear over. 

Why did her friend make her this anxious and nervous? After all, he’s only a friend. A friend!!!!

She didn’t want to address the nature and cause of her nervousness. As far as she chose to admit, she was going to conduct the rest of the day as if her subconsciousness weren’t waging a war with her consciousness, trying to get a vital message out. 

“Do you have a specific plan for today?” Andrei asks her, taking her out of her endless stream of never-ending thoughts. 

“I tackle food first so that I get the best picks and nothing is picked over,” she replied, appreciating his question because it set her at ease (or was it him?). 

“Sounds like a plan,” Andrei says, his natural and iconic wide smile overtaking his face. 

For the next couple of hours, Andrei followed her around like a puppy, offering brief questions and commentary about the choices she made, questions ranging from what she was buying to why she was purchasing things to why she selected certain options. He was nervous that he overwhelming her with too many questions, but with every question he asked and answer she provided, her eyes would twinkle—as if they were in a perpetual sparkle, twinkling to make sure watchers noticed the shine in them—and a soft but bright lined her facial features. 

This was when Andrei noticed just how beautiful she really was. He knew she was pretty; one would have to be legally blind to be unable to notice her beauty. At that farmer's market, however, that’s when he noticed that she wasn’t just pretty, but she was beautiful and stunning, a beauty that people fought wars over. 

This has made the situation more complicated for Andrei. He could tell she was holding back from him, especially in a romantic way, but he didn’t want to push her. He, also, didn’t want to be obvious about how he felt or what he wanted down the line. 

He needed something to distract him. Looking at her face was making it incredibly difficult not to pull her face towards him and kiss her. 

“Flowers?” is what he forces out. 

“I’m sorry?” she asked, befuddled by his response to her asking if he wanted coffee. 

“May I buy you flowers?” he asks. 

“Oh,” she answers, a different type of shock taking over her. “Um, yes, I’d like that a lot.” 

Andrei nods, walking towards the flower stand. By the time he found her again, she was standing off to the side, her bags of produce and baked goods and the likes slung over her shoulder, two iced coffees in her hands. In his hands, he had five different bouquets of flowers; he didn’t know her favorite flower and panicked. 

“For you,” he pushed out, almost like a grunt. 

She stifled her laugh but her features still contorted. “And I got you coffee.” 

He nods in thanks as they exchange coffee and flowers. She holds the various bouquets to her body as she thinks about how she wants to carry them around the rest of the market. 

“Here,” Andrei says, opening up one of the bags he brought, allowing her to place the bouquets in the bag. “I panicked.” 

“Huh?”

“The flowers. I panicked. I didn’t know your favorite flower.” 

“Oh,” she answers, her stomach filled with flutters. 

For the next few minutes, they walked in silence, briefly glancing at the various remaining vendors, too engrossed in their personal thoughts to pay much attention. 

She finally breaks the silence, saying, “Baby’s breath.” 

Now, it’s Andrei’s turn to be confused, and he follows up with a, “What?”

“My favorite flower. Baby’s breath. You know, for next time.” 

He nods, smiling. “Understood.” 

So, there would be a next time. 

The prospect of it excited Andrei and made him reconsider everything he knew about life, love, and the universe. 

Next time. 

Crazy that those two words were enough to tilt his entire universe on its axis. 

. . .

For some reason, there was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn’t hang out and meet at each other’s homes. 

It didn’t make sense to Andrei. He always felt the most comfortable in his home or on the ice, and because she couldn’t be on the ice with him during practice or games, he wanted her in his home. However, whenever he brought it up, he seemed to deflect or work around the topic. 

His home was his safe space, and he wanted to open it up to her. 

He felt more comfortable at home. 

He also felt that he could woo her and convince her to take a chance on him if he was as comfortable as possible. 

Alas, it hasn’t happened, and it didn’t seem like it would happen. 

For some reason, though, she agreed. 

He didn’t think she’d agree, but he thought he’d try one more time, so he said, “We could have a movie night at my place.” 

She responded as expected, replying, “Maybe, yeah.” 

He, in his head, decided to let it go, but then he blurted out, for some reason, “I have jello.” 

Her eyebrows, as expected, crinkled at his words. “Jello?” 

“Yeah, jello,” he continues, needing to stick to whatever story his subconscious was forcing on him. “It’s your Ken job.” 

Whenever Andrei went on a road trip, he asked for her movie, show, or book recs, and he’d pick one or two (depending on the length of the trip) to consume and discuss with her. One of her picks was last summer’s Barbie movie, and the discussion prompted what their Ken jobs would be. To be honest, Andrei had one of the most real-life Ken jobs in the world, but he managed to spit out his ideas. 

Her idea was jello. “It’s always soothing to stir the mix with hot water and cold water, and to make the various layers is fun. Jello would be my Ken job,” she said when they met up for drinks one night. 

“Are you going to make jello?” she asks, bringing Andrei’s mind back to the present. 

“I can,” he prompts. 

She nods. “This weekend work for you?” 

“What?” He was shocked, now. 

“For movies and jello, this weekend?” 

And that was how Andrei finally convinced her to go to his home. 

And all it took was jello. 

Andrei was spiraling for the next couple of days leading up to their get-together. He had to make sure everything was perfect. If anything appeared to be amiss, he wasn’t sure he could convince her to come back. He needed this to go as perfectly as possible. 

It was a must. 

“You have a cute place,” she says after Andrei gives her the grand tour, hoping she noticed all the little decor changes he made to cater to her interests and the deep cleaning he did. “It screams you.” 

“Thanks,” Andrei replies, ignoring the wave of warmth and emotion overtaking his body. 

Oh, if she knew the power she held over him. 

After the tour, Andrei told her to lounge on the couch and to relax as he grabbed the snacks and drinks. 

“And jello?” she jokes, his favorite smile of hers gracing his face. 

“And jello,” he agrees, matching her smile, his cheeks turning rosy. 

When he came back to his living room, a tray of food in his hand, he noticed her holding her body, running her hands up and down her arms. 

“Chilly?” he asks, concerned. He liked having his home a little cooler than the average individual may prefer. Internally, he’s smacking his head, wishing he had adjusted the thermostat to her preferred temperatures. 

“A little, yeah.” 

“I can change the temperature.”

She shook her head. “I can just use a blanket or something.” 

“Will a sweatshirt work?” he asks, running through his head the clean sweatshirts he has in his closet. 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“Let me grab you one,” Andrei lets you know, heading to his bedroom to grab a sweatshirt. He knows he has a clean (ish) one sitting on his bed. He doesn’t think about the insignia or the labels on the sweatshirt. The color doesn’t even strike him. It isn’t until she puts it on that he realizes just what he’s done. 

Well, it isn’t that he’s done something; it’s just that he has given her a sweatshirt in Cane’s red with his name and his number on it. 

Throughout the movie, Andrei tries his best not to think about how he feels about her wearing his name, number, and colors along her back and shoulders, but he can’t. 

He knows what it means and what it implies, but then he thinks about how firmly she’s placing him in the friend zone, and his heart shatters. 

In this relationship, he’s playing the long game, hoping to slowly convince her how much he likes her, but he can’t control his heart and emotions as he glances at her every now and then in his sweatshirt. 

At this point, Andrei doesn’t expect to or think he’s going to marry her, but all he can hear are wedding bells. The fact that he could be spending forever with someone who isn’t her. 

Andrei watches her as she eats the jello he made, and he makes a silent vow. 

He’s going to be patient, and he’s going to be kind. That’s his plan. 

Hopefully, that’s enough to convince her that he’s worth it. 

. . .

It had been a long day at work, every second dragging on. When the end of the day finally came, it felt like it couldn’t come fast enough. 

All she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and lounge on the couch all night until it was time for bed. 

She had the intention of going home, but when she got to the street where turning right would lead her to her home and turning left would lead her to Andrei’s home, she turned left. It was an impulse decision, but she knew that it was the one thing she wanted. 

He would make her feel better. Just seeing his face would make her feel better. 

Since that movie night a few months ago, she’s started to become more open and willing maybe more with Andrei. She couldn’t deny it; she was hopelessly in love with him. But, she just didn’t know how to bring it up with him. For so long, she’s implied and pushed him into the friend zone, and she didn’t want to assume that he liked her. If she were put in the friend zone, she would do her best to get over said person, so she didn’t want to assume that Andrei had feelings for her. 

But, she sure hoped he did. 

She cast these thoughts to the side as she pulled into Andrei’s driveway. It was as if he knew she was showing up because, within seconds of her pulling into his driveway, he walked out of his front door, ready to pull her into his arms. 

“Bad day?” he whispers into her hairline, holding her close to his chest. 

“Kind of, yeah,” she whispers, feeling his heart beat against her cheek. “Okay if I hang out here for a little bit?”

“Of course. My home is always open to you.” 

With his words, she pulls her head back to look up at him, a soft smile overtaking her face. He returns the smile, and within seconds, he takes her hand in his and leads her inside. 

This wasn’t the first time that she had shown up unannounced to his home after a bad day at work, and he appeared to fully know her after-work routine as he led her to his bathroom, giving her towels and clothes to shower and relax. 

When she gets out of the shower, warm and comfortable in a pair of his sweats and hoodie, she finds him on the couch and instantly folds her body into his lap and arms. Without question, his arms wrap around her, holding her close and relishing in the warmth of her body. 

It doesn’t take very long for her eyes to go heavy, and she tries her best to stay awake. 

It’s always in her moments right before she falls asleep where she has her greatest realizations about Andrei. 

As she starts to succumb to sleep in his arms, she thinks about her friendship with Andrei, just how much she loves him, and how safe he makes her feel. 

When she finally closes her eyes, she makes the decision that she’s going to tell him the next morning just how much she loves him. She needs him to know, and if he doesn’t feel the same way, then she’ll figure it out. 

But she needs to tell him. 

And as he laces his hand into hers and kisses her temple, that’s when she realizes and knows that he’s been waiting for her, too. 

He never lost faith in her. 

And it will all turn out okay. 

As she’s lying in his arms, she’s hoping and praying that third time’s the charm.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [32] - Viscaria

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Honesty makes bonds stronger. 

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 4000

Series Masterlist

The following week was very chaotic, and that was saying something considering what this whole season had been like so far.

Daphne was back from her honeymoon and had a lot of things to share with you, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to recover from that conversation. It was one thing to know and hear that nightly activities were -as Daphne had called them- pleasurable beyond words and it was another to know despite they were pleasurable beyond words, you still hadn’t…

Consummated.

Because Benedict had told you once that he would only touch you when you fell in love with him and you were not going to get rejected again.

The other thing was that Anthony had tempted fate that night apparently, because now everyone was talking about Colin and Marina. As Lady Whistledown had written on her society paper, Marina was pregnant from another man and she had been since she had got to London. Once the news had broken out, her courtship with Colin was brought to an end immediately and she was sent away from London by the Featheringtons to the countryside and as far as you had heard from Eloise, she was to marry the brother of the baby’s father, since the father was dead.

You shuddered to think what that poor girl was going through.

Colin was quite heartbroken but as Benedict had told you, he was slowly getting better. He and Marina had had the chance to talk before she had left for the countryside, so you figured that had to have cleared out the air at least a little.

Not for the ton, of course. That scandal was to keep them busy for at least a month if you had to guess.

As if all that wasn’t chaotic enough, both Bess and your aunt had decided that they would throw balls back to back; Bess’ ball was tonight while your aunt’s was next week, and you had spent the last week rushing from her house to Bess’s to make sure everything was going smoothly.

“I have a question for you,” Lottie said as she flung herself next to you. You still had hours until you would all go to Bess’ ball, so you had decided to relax in the park a bit. Though you were supposed to focus on your book away from the crowd under a tree, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Benedict who was in a deep conversation with Margery and Henry before you frowned and turned to see Lottie better.

“Yes?”

“So you know how everyone is talking about Marina being…” she lowered her voice, “pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice.”

“But how?”

“Sorry?”

“I thought one was supposed to be married to become with child.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Well not—not necessarily,” you managed to say and she took a deep breath.

“I asked mama.”

“Oh dear God.”

“And she says it is an act full of love and desire that should only happen once you’re married.”

“Uh huh,” you said, looking around in an attempt to distract yourself. “Oh look at that, a butterfly—”

“What act?” she cut you off and you let out a whine.

“Lottie.”

“What happens when you’re married?”

“You know what, that’s a really good question,” you pointed out. “And the better question is; why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you’re married,” she answered. “Not to mention, even before you got married you and Benny have been…”

“Debauched?”

“Full of desire,” she whispered and you felt your cheeks burn. “Even before your wedding, you two—”

You cut her off, careful to keep it quiet. “We didn’t do anything before the wedding!”

Nor after, now that you thought about it.

She lowered her voice. “But you kissed.”

“Nothing more!” you whispered back in a haste. “And you’re telling me you and Anthony did not?”

She repressed a proud grin, trying to keep a straight face.

“Perhaps.”

“There you go!”

“But that’s not our subject right now,” she said. “I forgave you after lying to me for months and you will keep it from me?”

“Lottie…”

“My two best friends and the love of my life lied to me, and now you keep another thing from me.”

“You’re devious,” you pointed at her, causing her to smile at you sweetly. “You really are.”

“I’m just hungry for knowledge.”

“You and I seem to have that in common,” you murmured. “Lottie, it’s just…it’s a pleasurable act.”

“That causes one to be pregnant?”

“Not always,” you said. “Marina’s was just bad luck I’d say. It’s only on specific times if you do that act that you become pregnant, it’s a mystery. I heard people say there are ways to prevent it as well, she must have not known.”

“And?”

“And,” you cleared your throat. “When you’re in love, and you desire that person and they desire you back…It’s—well, it’s divine.”

Or so I heard.

She thought for a moment.

“And you knew all this when you married Benny?”

“I didn’t grow up in the ton,” you said. “People talk about it more back in the countryside.”

“And Benny knew as well?”

“…Mm hm,” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing but she still saw the look of amusement on your face.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s very well practiced, and that’s the only thing I’ll say about it.”

“You know,” she mused. “There was a lady and one of Benny’s friends during my debut two years ago who were caught in an inappropriate situation at night in her bedchambers, and at their wedding breakfast I asked Benny what that situation was and he only laughed and told me I’d learn after I got married.”

“Wise words from the ton’s horizontal refreshment,” you muttered and she tilted her head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s pleasurable then?” she insisted. “If it is with the one you love?”

“Not to quote Benedict, but you’ll find out soon enough,” you said with a small grin. “Anthony and you will be married before the season is over, you know it as well as I do.”

A bright smile curled her lips, then she took a deep breath.

“I still haven’t forgiven him.”

“How much longer are you planning on making him suffer?”

She let out a giggle. “I would never make him suffer,” she said. “My heart is his completely.”

Your grin slowly faded when your gaze drifted to Benedict chuckling at something Margery had said, then joked back, making Margery laugh. Henry had to have walked away so it was just the two of them, and you felt the bitter taste of jealousy burn your throat before you looked at Lottie.

“So um—are you going to forgive him then?”

“I’m hoping to talk to him tonight at the ball,” she said. “He is coming as well, no?”

“Oh all of them will,” you said. “Even Colin, apparently. Benedict is dragging him there.”

Lottie nodded slowly, then stood up.

“I’d better see if my siblings are up to something, excuse me,” she said and walked away from you. Benedict saw her out of the corner of his eye, then said something to Margery before rushing after Lottie, no doubt to try to talk to her considering she hadn’t forgiven him yet either. Margery looked around, then waved at you and approached you.

“Well hello there,” she said and you offered her a smile.

“Hello.”

“Riveting read?”

“Not quite, but it’s a good excuse to keep myself busy,” you said and she shot you a smile.

“Understandable,” she said. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you said and scooted over so that she could sit down.

“We missed you at the party last week,” she said. “Why didn’t you come with Benedict?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was quite busy,” you said. “At the ball. But he says it was very much fun.”

“Oh it was!” she said, pressing a hand over her chest. “You really should’ve been there Y/N. Jane throws wonderful parties, you simply must come to the next one, I insist.”

“I will,” you said. “And are you coming to the ball tonight?”

“Absolutely,” she said and let out a laugh. “Benedict was just joking about how he has never seen me dance and he has this theory I’m terrible at it. He says he will see at tonight’s ball.”

You could feel your stomach doing a flip. It didn’t really mean anything, nor was it something that was ought to make you feel this jealous but—

Alright, this was ridiculous.

They were friends after all, so of course they were to joke around, there was nothing for you to feel bad about. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“Does he?”

“My mother used to give me these endless lessons until my dancing was perfect,” she made a face. “I hated it, but I do admit it comes handy at the balls.”

“Things we do for the ton,” you said as your eyes fell on Benedict who was making his way to you and Margery stood up.

“I should leave you two be.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—”

“No no, it’s no issue,” she said. “I should find Lucy anyway. See you tonight Y/N.”

“See you,” you said as she walked away, and you watched Benedict come closer to you.

“The ton’s horizontal refreshment?” he asked and you repressed a laugh at the look of complete puzzlement on his face.

“You talked to Lottie?”

“Talked at her before she—did you seriously call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment?”

You shrugged your shoulders, adapting a look of complete innocence.

“I could’ve called you the town harlot,” you pointed out. “But I’m nicer than that.”

A laugh escaped from his lips and he motioned at your side. “May I?”

“Of course,” you said and he sat down beside you, making your heart skip a beat.

“So what brought that on, exactly?”

“She was curious about what happens when one gets married,” you said. “You know, with the Marina scandal and everything.”

“Ah,” he said and paused for a moment. “And what did you say?”

“Well I certainly didn’t say she would learn after getting married, which is more information that you gave her,” you pointed out. “Hypocrite.”

“It was not my place to inform her on that,” he defended himself and turned to look at you. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her it’s unpleasant.”

“Wh- of course I did not!” you said in a haste. “Everything aside, I don’t want to listen to Anthony whining about it.”

Benedict made a face. “Let’s just stop talking about that because I do not want that picture in my mind.”

You hummed. “How is Colin?”

“He’s heartbroken but he will pull himself together,” he said. “I’m not sure if Anthony will though. Third scandal involving our family in one season.”

You shrugged. “So far.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I honestly think that he might have a heart attack if another scandal happens, and I do not want to be a Viscount.”

You grinned at him before you saw Margery and Lucy walking by the park out of the corner of your eye, and lowered your glances to your book, smoothing out the corner of the page. Benedict frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you asked, lifting your head. “Oh yeah, sure. Just thinking about tonight’s ball, Bess put so much effort into it so I hope it goes well.”  

“I’m sure it will.”

“And uh—Margery is coming as well?”

“They all are,” Benedict said. “Should be fun.”

You tried to smile, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “Should be fun.”

                                      *

In all honesty, it really was a fun ball. Bess was a wonderful host, albeit a busy one because you hadn’t had any chance to talk to her or Josie or Andrew for that matter. You had hoped to talk to Lottie but you barely had the chance to see her before she had excused herself from the ball after one dance, saying she was still tired from the park. Anthony had left around five minutes after Lottie had, but they were the only ones because every other guest seemed to be having so much fun.

Felix had somehow convinced you into being a part of the next dance which required you to switch partners every once in a while, and you were now paired with him while Lucy danced with Henry and Benedict danced with Margery. You let out a laugh and let him turn you as the dance required.

“An artist and a good dancer,” you said, taking a step forward with him. “Full of surprises, are you not?”

“I hope my art skills are better than my dancing skills,” he said with a smile and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not complaining,” you said. “Any new paintings you have been working on?”

“Just drawings,” he said. “And you? Have you discovered a new flower yet?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Mm hm, I’ll name it Felix,” you said. “And when will I see the drawings? Or does that privilege only belong to my brother-in-law?”

He suppressed a smile and stole a look at the dancing couples, and you winked at him.

“You two are such close friends after all,” you said airily as he held out his arm and you put your hand on it. Felix grinned.

“We talk a lot about art,” he played along. “He has many interesting ideas. It’s quite inspiring.”

“I’m sure it is,” you said, still smirking and clapped your hands together along with other couples, then switched partners and Henry smiled at you.

“Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Sir Granville,” you greeted Henry and put your hand on his shoulder. “Having fun?”

“Quite so, you must give my gratitude to Lady Hadfield,” he said. “A wonderfully planned ball.”

“There’s nothing Bess can’t do wonderfully, except for keeping her plants alive,” you commented and let him twirl you before you took a step.

“Our lovesick couple is back in the honeymoon phase then?” he asked and you shot him a lighthearted glare.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?”

“Not at all,” you said with a smirk, stealing a look at Lucy who was now dancing with Benedict, “We were simply enjoying the fresh air.”

Henry chuckled, then you both clapped your hands and switched partners, Benedict grabbing you by the hand to twirl you, making you giggle.

“Hello Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hello to you too Mrs. Bridgerton,” he grinned at you, “How are you on this fine evening?”

“Enjoying the ball, and yourself?”

“Enjoying the sight of the most beautiful lady at the ball as we speak,” he said and you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

“Ever the romantic,” you teased him. “I should write you a sonnet or something, to pay back the favor. Can’t have you covering that whole front.”

He let out a laugh and you both circled each other as the dance required.

“A sonnet,” he said. “That sounds lovely. Will you carve it on a stone with a knife or something?”

“That does sound romantic now that you mention it,” you said. “And a stone can be a weapon as well, so you would have a sonnet you can actually use if need be.”

“Ever the practical,” he teased you back and you both clapped hands along with other couples, the music coming to a stop. Laughter and chattering filled the dance floor as you dropped a curtsy and Benedict bowed.

“Come on, let’s grab drinks,” he said and offered you his arm, and you put your hand over it so that you both could walk away from the dance floor. Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray, then gave one to you.

“Is Lottie alright, do you think?” you asked and he nodded.

“She said she was, before reminding me she still wasn’t talking to me.”

You repressed a laugh and stole a look at Colin who was talking to Penelope by the corner.

“And Colin?”

“Pen will make him snap out of it,” he said. “Being around her always makes him feel better. Look at him, smiling already.”

You tilted your head, turning to glance at them but before you could comment on it, someone touched your back, making you look behind you.

“Andrew,” you said, turning around to see him better. “This is a good surprise after what, two weeks?”

“I know,” he said, giving you an apologetic smile. “I have been busy. Hello Benedict.”

“Hello Andrew.”

“Busy with a certain artist?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you. “Where is he anyway?”

“He was just on the dance floor,” you said and Andrew looked through the crowd, then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll be back but before I forget,” he said. “Y/N, Josie says you’ve been worried about the letter from your father and I get that but trust me, even if they do come here there’s no—” he stopped talking as your eyes widened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Benedict slowly turned to look at you before turning to Andrew with a frown and Andrew glanced between you, then hissed in a breath.

“And you haven’t had the chance to tell him,” he muttered. “Damn it. Sorry, I thought…”

“Your parents are coming here?” Benedict asked you and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.

“Andrew, do you mind?”

“Yeah I’ll just—” he motioned at the other side of the ballroom. “Go and mess up another couple’s relationship on my way there so that you won’t feel alone. Sure.”

“Great, you do that,” you said and he squeezed at your arm in an assuring manner before walking away from you. You took a deep breath, your heart beating in your throat before you nodded at Benedict.

“Come with me?” you asked and made your way through the crowd with Benedict following you. You both left the ballroom and you climbed the stairs, then turned left and opened the first door which turned out to be one of the guest rooms. Benedict stepped inside after you, then closed the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets after a pause, clearing his throat.

“So?” he said, his voice completely calm. “What is happening?”

You heaved a sigh and ran a hand over your face.

“My uh…my father sent a letter,” you managed to say and Benedict frowned.

“To you?”

“No, to my uncle,” you motioned outside vaguely. “He talks about wanting to host Teddy for the rest of the season, which will not happen by the way, over my dead body,” you added in a haste. “It’s just a trick to ask for more money from my uncle, at least that’s what he says.”

Benedict nodded. “And they’re coming here?”

“It was implied on the letter,” you murmured, biting inside your cheek. “But my uncle thinks they won’t.”

“And you?”

You could feel your whole body stiffening and it was so familiar to you that it made you scoff, then you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you said curtly. “Father didn’t send another letter.”

“But why wouldn’t you tell me earlier? When did—” he stopped talking as a look of realization dawned on his face, making you shift your weight.

“That’s what you were going to tell me,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You pressed your lips together, fixing your gaze on the wall as you crossed your arms.

“That’s why you…” Benedict let out a breath, nodding his head. “Now it makes sense. You wanted to tell me, and I was at a party.”

That familiar feeling of defenselessness sent a shiver down your spine, making you frown before you cleared your throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said almost stoically. “It’s fine.”  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

“No need to be,” you cut him off, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sinking in your stomach as you rubbed at your wrist, his eyes following your movements. “We don’t even need to talk about this really.”

“I think we do.”

“We do not.” You shook your head, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “I’m fine.”

“If they come here—”

“I can handle it,” you interrupted him again and rolled your shoulders back. “It’s fine. I don’t need—I can handle it, even if they do come here. I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m fine.”

That soft light appeared in his eyes and he stepped closer to you to pull you into his arms, heaving a sigh.

“Oh my stubborn girl…” he murmured into your hair, his hand cradling the back of your head as you rested your forehead on his chest. His other arm snaked around your waist and you felt the stiffness of your muscles relax slowly, almost melting into his touch. The music coming from downstairs slowly washed away from your ears as your hearing became muffled and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes, making your whole body tense up again. You took a shaky breath and pulled away from him even if you wanted nothing more than just stay there in his embrace forever, then you ran a hand over your face.

“Are you alright?” his voice was gentle and you nodded.

“Yeah I just don’t—I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?”

“That whole crying nonsense,” you rasped out, blinking back the tears as you went to sit down on the bed. A silence fell upon the room before he approached you, and crouched down to look at you while you played with the ring around your finger, your gaze growing distant as you found yourself lost in thought until you heard his voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why not tell me afterwards?”

You shrugged your shoulders, nibbling on your lip.

“We weren’t on best terms,” you muttered. “I could not.”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he entwined his fingers with yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as if trying to assure you.

“No matter what happens between us,” he insisted. “No matter what, I will always protect you. Nothing could change that.”

It felt as if someone was squeezing at your heart inside your chest but you managed to find your voice.

“Benedict, if they do come here…” you trailed off and he shook his head.

“Even if they do, nothing will happen,” he said, his voice determined. “I promised you, remember? No one will touch a hair on your head, ever.”

You dragged your gaze to his as you swallowed thickly, then nodded. For a moment, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, the desire rushing through you. If you leaned in just a little to brush your lips against his, you could—

Your head whipped around as the sound of what was probably a vase falling down to floor and smashing reached inside and you heard Andrew’s laugh and Felix shushing him before someone slammed a door down the hallway. That was enough to snap you out of the haze you were in and you pulled back, blinking a couple of times to focus.

“Can we, um…” you muttered and Benedict seemed to understand what you were going to ask.

“Back home or back to the ball?”

“It’d be rude to Bess if we went home, we must stay,” you said as he stood up but you didn’t let go of his hand and stood up as well. You gave him a small smile, swinging your hands absentmindedly and Benedict raised your hand to press a chaste kiss on it, then shot you that lopsided grin of his.

“Would you spare me another dance, Mrs. Bridgerton?”  

The simple joke made you feel as if that heaviness in your chest was lifted off, letting you breathe again. A giggle escaped from your lips and before you fixed a serious expression on your face, pretending to consider it for a second.

“I suppose I can,” you mused in an airy manner and tugged at his hand to lead him to the door. “You are quite easy on the eye after all.”

Chapter 33

[divinehedons]

lost and found

pairing: soft dom!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4k

summary: your arrangement with joel miller is built on mutual trust. what happens when, in the throes of hedonism, he himself breaks that trust?

warnings: this is a dark, EXPLICIT fic, minors do not interact! no outbreak au, so many unrequited feelings, angsty angst angst angst, explicit p-in-v sex, dubious consent, use of a safeword, teeth-rotting aftercare and fluff, brief use of a sex toy, bath sex, brief depiction of make-up sex, somewhat (definitely) blasphemous and makes a mocking of religion (i'm not sorry :>>>>)

note: thank you very dearly for reading! please let me know what you think and what you see next; asks are very much welcome, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

“See, this is why you need me, sweet girl. Because otherwise, who’s goin’ to make you feel this good?”

It was those words that follow you every day since you’ve begun such a tumultuous connection with the Texan contractor. Those words that stayed with you when you woke up from his tongue between your legs after the first night you fucked together. The words that stayed together when you made an arrangement. When you finally submitted to him.

You meet him in a shared apartment, in darkness, as well-put as could be from a day of work, kneeling with your wrists presented before you. By the end of the night, moments before he drops you off, he looks over your smeared lipstick, your neck littered with blood-red hickeys of his doing, wrists red. He'd look you over, then he'd smirk, waiting for you to turn back and wave goodbye. Only then will he have the last word. "See you next week, darlin'."

–

You met him at trivia night, glasses on, glass of whisky in hand, mere purveyor to the chaos you were causing. You, who he noticed to be naturally shy, sipping away at some colorful drink the weeks before, standing actively on your toes as you excitedly whisper the answer to a question. He saw, too, how happy you got, jumping on your feet when your little band of three pulls ahead in the game. But what caught his attention was how good you are. How you immediately sat down when your team asks you to, how you willingly go for drinks at the bar, not five feet from where he sat, emanating warmth from excitement.

You were so goddamn willing, he had to adjust himself once or twice, pictures of your submission burnt into the crevices of his brain. So when he had the chance, he had to take it.

“How did’ya know so much about the sixties, sugar?” he asked as you squeezed into the seat beside him, barely managing to steal it from the crowded bar. When you looked at him, he swore he almost saw your eyes gloss over from shyness. You just had to be adorable.

 “Oh! Well… I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.” You look down, fiddling with your drink before chuckling. “I didn’t know we were getting so much attention.” He swore he almost felt his cock twitch in his pants. Already, you were being so good, he physically had to swallow down the images of you happily bent over his desk with the rest of his whisky, throat burning be damned.

He realized, quite easily, that if he wanted you, he was going to have to be creative about it. And if he really wanted you, he had to put the effort in showing you he could be trusted; that he’ll take care of you. So he smiles, a calm smirk accompanying his salt-and-pepper beard, the warm crinkles in his eyes as he stills himself. He takes a deep breath, and it becomes so easy.

The night ends with you pressed against the door of your apartment, panties pushed to the side as he breathes whiskey into your face while you chuckle nervously. “D’you want it, sugar? C’mon, I need some words…” He almost wished he could take a photo of your face the moment he spears you open with his aching cock, cunt already fucked out by his fingers during the feverish truck drive where you almost get him lost from hazy directions.

He teaches you your safe words that night. An analogy of stoplights– halting reds, questioning yellows, and bright green gos.

He constantly checks in, and all you tell him is to go, go, go.

–

He likes it when you call him sir, a remnant of his Southern manners. Your cheeks warm up whenever you say it. He noticed when he had begun to cup your face, asking you to tell him what you wanted.

Just you, sir. All you, please…

He’s so indulgent about it, so eager to give you the pleasure you so desperately wanted without saying anything. But sometimes, that primal urge to own you manifests itself, as well. He particularly enjoyed the act of overstimulation. Just the sight of you, cockdumb and broken, limbs trembling from the way he manipulated the pleasure from your body… how could he ever resist? It’s why he was so willing to split an apartment with you; one meant for your excursions and hedonistic urges; the house of desire itself with a king-sized bed and a hot tub to defile.

You were chaos and innocence all in one, sweet like honey and sudden like the weather. Incomprehensible, unique you. Simply put, he enjoyed you. And the fact that you belonged to him will never stop getting him hard just from the mere thought of it. He started thinking he finally understood what it meant to be enthralled by someone. When you open your mouth wide, tongue extended and waiting for any shred of him to swallow, when you lay on his chest post-coitus with the sated nature of a feral cat, when he sees your perfect lipstick, waiting to be ruined by kisses.

Of course he’s insatiable. He will always keep wanting more. Perhaps it was that insatiability that led to that storming night.

–

He should’ve noticed when he opened the door and you were looking out of the window, eerily quiet, with the weight of the world on your shoulders. He drops the keys on the dining table, crossing his way to you, hands wrapping around your waist as he kisses your exposed shoulder teasingly. 

“Let me take your mind off of it, darlin’,” he whispers, and you feign a giggle at the way his beard prickles your skin. “Had a tough day, didn’t ya?” You look to him as if you were about to confess something, say something and break your usual submissive silence. But you catch his eye and you melt further into his touch instead as you sigh softly.

“Just missed you a little too much, sir…”

It satisfies him. It feeds his ego. But just in case… “Give me a colour, pretty baby. S’alright…”

You gulp, feeling your fingers turn cold as you process your thoughts. With a sigh, you press a kiss to his jaw.

“Green, sir.”

The word barely leaves your lips before he’s kissing you, swallowing down your soft whimpers as his strong arms take you, carrying you to the bedroom with renewed urge and desire. Settling you down on fresh sheets, he peers over your pretty little sundress, your perfect little face, chuckling at the shyness washing over you in the low lamplight. He kisses you again, insatiable hands tearing open your dress as your breath hitches, He does not stop, pressing wanton kisses down your collarbone, your breast, your stomach, spreading your legs so he can settle right between them.

“Y’wanna tell me why you weren’t answering my calls, darlin’?”

You try not imagine the panic you must have caused him for that very reason. The fact that you left him a message at three in the afternoon, I need to see you, sir. Only to have your phone switched off. There is probably a barrage of messages and missed calls. But seeing you here, he finally seems to settle. He seems to ignore your creased forehead, your shaky breaths.

“My phone died… I- I’m sorry…” He shushes you, kissing you again and running his thumb over your painted lips with a smile. “I just missed you, sir.”

You notice his eyes darkening, hands traveling down the expanse of your stomach, embracing and caressing each curve before his right hand completely cups your wanton cunt, willing and warm to the touch. “I think I can do somethin’ about that.” He pushes your underwear aside, two fingers delving into the soft, sticky warmth of your desire, spreading you open just for him. He periodically asks for your status, a colour to confirm your consent. You see it as a way of him asking if he could do the things he was already doing.

Green for the fingers already spreading you open. Green to take off the dress he had already torn off. Green to mark up the neck that already bore the wetness of his saliva.

“How was trivia night last night, sugar? I couldn’t get out of work soon enough to catch you there…” You manage a soft chuckle, now embracing him with a breathy kiss. “Although, I believe I heard from Clark that you did well enough, no?”

Your soft giggles melt against the skin of his jaw, your shaky breaths stuttering as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the shuffling of his jeans. “Good old nineties, sir,” you murmur. “Your playlist was sufficient enough of a reviewer to carry me through.” It’s his turn to chuckle, cupping your face and peering down at you as he affectionately pinches the apple of your cheek with a sigh.

“One more ‘old man’ quip out of you and you’ll be askin’ for a punishment, li’l girl.”

You manage a soft smile. You like it when he cares. You like him like this. But just as easily as it came, the softness soon disappears as he returns to working the clothes off of your body, looking over the way your skin is void of the markings he left the last time he had you. You try to comprehend the secrets between his furrowed brow, the mutterings you try to hear in the semi-darkness. He always had a way of keeping that same professional barrier between the two of you, a barrier that you never know where it truly stood. A barrier of multiple dimensions. A barrier that was the sole purpose why you never confessed you stopped dating ever since he came into your life.

You remember the time you almost did. You had called him one evening, dressed up in the same apartment, bottle of wine chilled, rose petals all over the sheets. You told him you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect the ease that came with his rebuttal. Can’t tonight, darlin’, I have a lady friend keepin’ me company. How ‘bout Friday? You pretend, as you find yourself doing more and more often. You tell him to have a nice evening. You drink an entire bottle of wine by yourself. You dispose of the rose petals and ensure you left no traces by morning.

Looking at him now, he still remains cool, professional, boundaries locked and loaded between your bodies even when he presses the bulbous tip of a vibrator directly over where you need him most, firing it up the moment you said green. He told you once he loved the way you squealed for him, that it makes his chest bubble with incomprehensible glee knowing he could drive such noises from you, that shy little vixen that knelt for him when he said the word and opened her mouth wide. Maybe that’s why he always enjoyed pushing you to your limits.

Maybe that’s what he wanted to do now.

And you had to admit, you were willing to let him try.

The vibration jostles through your flesh, shaking awake your tendons. The initial shock sent your legs flailing, spreading, and eventually welcoming the affection. “That’s it… let me in, baby…”

Your cries emanate as the shock of the first orgasm shakes through your completely naked body, brushing against the course fabric of his jeans, his small snicker leaving him before he could stop it. “‘Course you’re so easy, pretty lady.” You feel your cheeks warm up at his words, looking into his eyes as he raises a brow, as if waiting for you to give him his dues.

It’s when you return to yourself, blinking away the haze in your head as you tilt your head back. “Thank you, sir… oh, oh– thank you!” When you look back, you see him through the mist in your vision, see that slow, cocky smirk encompassing his features. He likes this. He likes the way you’re absolutely fucked out like this.

The buzzing stops, and you blink awake shakily up at him. He leans down to kiss you gently, sighing as you come down from your orgasmic bliss. “How are we feelin’, baby doll?”

You grin up at him. Green, green, green.

He looks down at you, with that shit-eating grin on your face that you always have when you’re brimming with excitement and ready to burst. He tries to read your eyes just as you grow shy, turning over to embrace the pillow you lay on. What should he do when the prettiest girl in the world says “green” so voraciously?

There was only one answer. He can only go, go, go.

–

Joel Miller rarely calls anything heaven. He rarely finds anything that is so divine that he can surrender so easily in worship. And if he does, it’s even rarer that he is driven by anything so much as to take divinity into his own hands. But with you… he swore he finally saw the face of God. And it was dangerous. It was dangerous because it had awakened an arcane starvation that almost harkens back to his own primordial longings.

You tell him green, but if he was capable of confession, if he was more vulnerable to you… he’d confess that he’d gone blind, his senses dulled and only drawn to one thing and one thing only: and it was to take and take from you.

That was why he fucks you wide open with his cock, your walls trembling with the first sign of overstimulation. He sees the first sign of your hesitation and he barely stops himself to look you in the eye to say your status. You barely manage to tell him green, with a tone of hesitation, and he immediately pummels his hardness into your aching cunt, embracing you in his tense arms, growling into your ear as you feel his lips sucking a brand new hickey at the very crook of your neck. 

If he was confessing, he would say all he saw was the red of his blood pumping through his brain. It is only a few seconds later that he finally hears that shy, trembling voice of yours, echoing like a hysterical cry that tears through his defences. It is the words you had never uttered in these moments before now.

“Red, red, red!”

Immediately, Joel flies apart from you like shrapnel, blinking his eyes open just in time to see your grief-stricken face, splotchy from tears as you curl up in the upper middle of the large bed. From here, he finally sees the aftermath of his mindless fucking. His fingertips marking your skin, lovebite blood red and raging just as you peer up at him with eyes lit up with an emotion he had never seen before. You had never stared at him with that much fear before.

He attempts to reach for you, only to be frozen in his tracks the moment you flinched further upwards against the mattress. His blood runs cold when he hears your words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir–”

Had he been that absolutely careless over you— precious, darling you that entrusted herself so fully to him? Had he been that selfish, so enthralled by the callings of his own flesh? This is the price he had to pay for tasting divinity— he just had to ruin you for it. He slowly recedes, heart thumping in his chest as he tucks himself back into his pants, keeping his hands visible for you, your watchful eyes never blinking away from you.

“It’s alright, darlin’. It’s alright. We’ve stopped.” Gently, he helps, carefully handing you a dressing robe to regain some form of second skin. He ascertains that his bare hands does not brush against you, not unless you ask him to. Not unless you wanted it. He did not deserve such a privilege, not after what he’s done. Not after how he broke your trust.

He shakes away the thoughts and self-doubt from the recesses of his brain. You do not need his remorse. What you needed was to be taken care of. What you needed was him to fulfill the role he had promised you from the very start of your… partnership. Whatever it was you had. The minutes pass in the silence. The apartment is silent, except for your shaky breaths as he waits for you to calm down.

“Sugar…” your bright doe eyes look to him, reddened slightly by tears before softening, your hands slowly moving to reach for him. He stops himself. “What do you want me to do, doll?”

You finally find the voice to speak again. “Just hold me… please.” Joel gently settles by your side, embracing you as you hide your face into his bare chest. With how close you press yourself to him, you feel the pounding of his chest. You feel your skin prickle, looking up into his eyes in soft, comfortable silence. “It’s like you couldn’t see me anymore when… when…”

He hears your breath hitch and he gently shushes you, carefully pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “Why did you apologize, sugar?”

It's difficult to comprehend feelings in an agreement that is supposedly devoid of them. It's difficult to reflect when you think you know every possibility when you say the truth and nothing but the truth. But you know, too, that you cannot solve the breaking of one’s trust, yours in this case, with the breaking of others’ trust. So you swallow, gather your thoughts.

“You’ve… you always made it feel like it’s my… my privilege to feel so good and… and…” you sniffle, burying your face against him once more as you sigh. “I feel guilty for… for having to—asking to—stop.” You feel his breath still, and you tug him closer out of guilt. It’s as if the motion gently shakes him awake and he embraces you, pressing careful kisses where he was able to.

“That was never my intention, darlin’...” He gently maneuvers you, just enough so you had to look into his eyes— those soft, warm eyes that looked at you the night you met in the bar. “I should be sorry, and I am. God, doll… we built this… us… we built it on the idea that we entrust each other with our… vulnerabilities, and that those vulnerabilities aren’t exploited.” He cups your face, the way he always does, but his touch his careful, the way one grasps precious. “You trusted me, sugar, and I’ve been reckless with my pretty girl. I’m so sorry.”

He barely finishes the last word before you’re kissing him, arms wrapping around him in comfortable silence as he cradles you, lets you indulge until you are the first to pull away. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” he whispers, the prickle of his beard against your jaw enough to make you giggle. “How does a bath sound?” You manage a small nod, winding down from the events of the evening as he cradles you, gently bringing you to the bathroom and seating you on the nearest counter as he leans over to prepare the warm bath, head turned away from you with a sigh.

The confession lays heavy on your lips. The confession that you’re falling for him, eyes closed, no turning back. You’re in love with him, but you think in telling him, you risk losing this… having him in the soft silences where you can be vulnerable for him and only for him. You tell him, and you picture the nights alone, guarding yourself and knowing happiness shall not exist anymore for you. Not in this lifetime.

“Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

You look to him in silence before taking a deep breath, shaking your head before biting your lip. “Stay with me,” you whisper, looking down at your feet as he settles before you. “Please don’t go too far from me.”

It’s how the two of you end up, with you on his lap, the warm water encompassing the two of you as  gently scrubs through your back with slow, careful circles. “Promise me something,” he says, breaking the silence as he carefully pulls you closer to him. “Never ever think you cannot say no to me ever again.” Your head rears to look into his eyes and he couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing your cheek lovingly. “I’d rather have your scorn than seein’ you afraid of me, darlin’.”

You promise him. As if you would deprive him of anything ever again. As if you could bear the way you saw his heart break from your reaction earlier that evening. As if you could bear the sight of him pulling away from you ever again. If it meant keeping him this close to you for some time more—be it a day, another evening, another month, another year—you’d take everything you can.

The both of you make up shortly thereafter. Joel is half-surprised to see you crawling on top of him, facing him as you ask him. He groans at the feel of your nails digging down into the back of his neck as you fuck yourself on him. He lets you take what you want. As if he can deprive you of anything, be it affection or debauchery. He takes you by your word when you ask him to take you to bed— and he makes love to you in the darkness.

You are his God and all the Saints in the body of one mortal. Daisies and thunderstorms and metamorphoses combined. He looks for you in the other people he meets. But they do not have your shyness, your bright smile, nor the complete surrender you offer so willingly to him. He wonders, sometimes, in the darkness, if he will ever find it within himself to cross the boundaries he himself had built. So he tells you he loves you in other ways. When he cradles your face, when he wipes you clean post-coitus, showering your skin with kisses. When he embraces you in his arms when you drift to sleep with a wide, warm smile of peace etched on your face. He whispers it, sometimes, when he kisses your forehead before he leaves, dressed in his clothes from last night.

He’ll rather have you like this. If, by some twist of fate, he loses the presence of your divinity, then he shall forever return to this moment— you on your hands and knees with your back arching into his touch, your warm breath, your trembling breast. Perhaps an eternity, locked together this way, is the closest to heaven he will ever come across. And should he face damnation, flailed and torn apart by hail at the second circle of hell, he shall regret nothing. Should he be offered salvation in exchange of forgetting you, he shall spit at the face of God with a smile. He’d tell Him he’ll do it all over again.

---

A/N: this is the part where i say sorry for letting my current reads and whatnot influence what i'm writing. but this is also your sign to read the divine comedy if you want to :'DDD thank you so so so much for reading!!

[breathe-101]

The long drive home!

Characters: Jacob Scipio and writer.

Dear diary,


Hehehe, look at you and your nosy self.

There's some PG18 stuff I need to share.

As you were!


Sooooo, I’ve been dating Jacob for about six months now.

It was my idea to keep it private of course.

Honestly, after loving him from a distance for so long, I just wanted to give it a chance.

You know better than anyone that he's my first boyfriend.

It's exciting but I can't really say I'm not scared.

Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Oh my days what the fork am I saying!


Anyway, having flown in this morning he insisted on picking me up after work.

I didn’t want him to cause man needed sleep.

The press tour was long and to expect anything from him now was just ridiculous.

We settled on spending the weekend together.

It’s been a hectic week and sleep was all I wanted really.

I don’t think coffee is the answer anymore, might just give myself heart failure at this rate.
 
Oooo and before we move on with the story, I actually said goodbye to my colleagues before leaving the office today.

Talk about progress.

Still don't really like them though.

Anyways, back to the story.


Jacobs black Jaguar pulled up out front.

Sprinting to the car, my first thought was to get the fuck out of there before my colleagues

had something to write about in the group chat.

Forget the butterflies of excitement welling up in my tummy, those villians gossip like fish wives.


Jumping in, there he was, you know.

After weeks of FaceTiming he was actually here.

‘Hi’ I whispered. It was all I could manage in that moment.

No judgement please!


Jacobs hair had grown longer.

Dark curls bouncing effortlessly as he moved his head, looking at me then the road again.

I hadn't even realised we’d started moving.

He had one hand on the wheel and the other now resting comfortably on my thigh giving it a slight squeeze.

You know that grip.

The one that makes you all giddy. Ahhhhh!!!


Okay, so. My eyes made their way down his face, his skin looked good.

Clear and somehow giving off a glow.

He didn’t have any makeup on having had the morning off.

I liked his bare face.

His almond eyes looked more defined against his now darker completion.

Guess the Florida sun agrees with him cause even his lashes looked longer.
The car came to a sudden stop.

Red light.

Lips parting slowly, his face turned towards me and he finally whispered,

‘Hi'. You knowwww, the way guys do when they want you to lean in closer cause you can't hear what they're saying.

Hmmmmm, I see you Jacob!


I watched him unable to speak.

I had so many things I wanted to tell him about

and so many questions to ask but, nothing.

I just happily stared at the amused expression on his face.

His scent filled my nose as he placed his hand on my cheek, outlining my brow then gliding down to rest on my neck.

‘I missed you' he whispered again.

Aaaahhhhh! (Hand on the chest level of excitement)


I followed his inspecting eyes as they made their way up my body.

Starting with my stocking covered legs, then a glance at my full thighs.

Eyes stopping at my chest, Jacob slowly released a deep breath then quickly looked me in the eye.

I could feel him moving closer, fingers caressing the short hair on the back of my neck.

Beeeeeeep!

His gaze sharply turned back to the road as the honking snapped us out of the moment.

Seriously!


It was a long drive to my apartment.

I'd just started a new job and hadn't found a closer place yet.

Note to self, get that sorted ASAP.

He'd packed a bag for the weekend and had several paper bags I didn't recognise.

I wanted to ask but exhaustion got the better of me.

We drove in silence.

Both of us reluctant to disturb the heavy tension in the air.

We'd said a few words about our weekend plans then continued an amusing dance of stealing glances at each other. 
This was all new to me. I'd never really liked someone this much.

I just wanted to touch him.

Feel the weight of his legs wrapped around me and rest my head on his chiseled chest.

He'd been working out.

I could tell. Jacobs arms had grown bigger more defined.

The dark T-shirt hugged his bicep as he loosely held the wheel.

I could see the outline of his abs under the fitted shirt.

His waist looked smaller against his broad shoulders.

His legs had grown bigger, leaner.

Jacob was holding my hand now, squeezing it lightly, stroking my finger with his thumb.

Keep it together girl!


We made a quick stop to get some snacks for the road then continued home.

The heavy atmosphere and smooth car ride made me drowsy.

I wanted to look at him longer but my eyes were fighting a losing battle.

I'd forgotten just how cute he was when he was happy.

Jacobs face broke into a mischievous smile, amused by the drowsy look on my face.


'I thought you were excited to see me. How dare you fall asleep.' He chuckled,

admiring my blushing face unaware of the Pervy thoughts flying around in there.

I let out a lazy laugh, pulling his warm hand closer to my chest.


Jacob moved his hand down to my legs, slowly caressing my inner thigh.

I looked up at him, eyes half closed.

The sky had grown dark, low lights hitting his face, outlining his now fuller beard.

He looked good, really good.

Jacobs hand slowly made its way further between my legs, strong fingers sliding their way against my tight stockings.

I shifted, slightly parting them in response.

Feeling a strong tug, they ripped making way for his fingers.

Hand lightly tracing the ladder paving its way down my inner thigh, his grip on the wheel tightened.


The car stopped.

Red light.

Taking advantage of the short pause, he leaned over, his face right up against mine.

Moving even closer, breathing heavily, I anticipated the feel of his warm, full lips... but he stopped. Such a tease!

His warm breath now flowed into my slightly parted lips.

I was struggling to keep my eyes open but I craved him.

I craved the mouth I hadn't felt for three weeks.

I wanted to bite his plump lip, feel him wince against me then aggressively come back for more.

Invading my mouth, not knowing where his saliva started and mine ended.

Licking the blood off his lip wanting more of him on my tongue.

Girrrrl who are you!

Holding my gaze, he slowly lowered my car seat then turned to face the road.

‘Rest.' He demanded.

The car started moving again.

‘You fiend' I muttered under my breath.


I could feel my body fully relax into the seat as sleep came over me.

But his hand started moving again this time moving closer .

Hhhmmmm This man will be the death of me, I swear.

I'd like to sleep now ,Sir. If you don't mind.'

He let out a deep chuckle, pinching my thigh in the process.

I jumped surprised by the sudden attack.

I smacked his hand and he chuckled again. 'Such a tease' I muttered accusingly.


The hand crept even closer caressing back and forth,

reaching its goal then moving away again.

The frustration from exhaustion and this slow seduction had my body screaming.

Eyes closed I grabbed his hand and slowly guided it up to where we both wanted it.

Parting my legs further, I arched my back, moving my hips higher up the seat to give him a better view.

‘I’d like to drive if you don't mind' his deep voice tugging at my stomach.

I chuckled leaning my head back giving him a good view of my now exposed throat.

‘You can have your hand back if you need it. You seem to be doing just fine with one'.

‘Hmmm' he reluctantly moaned in agreement.


The car stopped, another red light.

Sitting up, I moved closer to him.

Squeezing his hand tighter between my thighs.

I stared into his eyes, reflecting the GPS light. Moving his other hand off the wheel,

I placed it firmly around my throat, squeezing slightly.

We stared at each other desire hanging heavy in the small space.

Eyes barely open I parted my lips, releasing a slow breath, coated with the smell of Maltesers, his favourite.

My hot breath hit his lips then moved down to his throat.

I swallowed.

Making sure his hand felt every inch of the movement before moving it slowly down to my erect nipple.

Orange light.

Peeling his hand off my breast, I returned it to the wheel.

Moving away, I settled back into my seat, fully closing my eyes.

Green light.

‘You should drive Mr Scipio. Don't want to hold up traffic now do we?’

Running his fingers through his hair, eyes fixated on my charged body, Jacob slowly accelerated.

‘You f*cking tease' he breathed, pinching my thigh again as he turned to face the road.

PS: I’ll tell you the rest later xx

[lemonlover1110]

hey i love all ur works so much!!!! you’re such an amazing writer 💖 i don’t think i’ve ever requested anything before but could u do a professor toji x college reader student by any chance 👀

Pairing: Professor!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Power Dynamic, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Toji putting reader's panties in his pocket bc I want him to steal my panties

*thank you so much for reading and for your support!

I was thinking of @violetsaffron5 ‘s new story while writing this

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

The first time you went to professor Fushiguro’s office hours, neither of you could focus. One thing led to another, and the last thing you did was go over the questions that you had about the material you were learning. Now you go see him during his office hours every time you can.

“Hello, professor.” You walk into his office, closing the door behind you. Toji looks up from the paper he revises, and smirks when he looks at you, taking off his reading glasses to look at you. His face screams mischief while you try to innocently smile at him.

“There’s my favorite student.” Toji comments while you walk over to his desk. You make sure to lower your shirt a bit, to show him more cleavage while you get closer and closer to him. You take a seat on his desk, right on the paper he was grading. He certainly doesn’t care, standing up and his lips meeting yours.

His hands land on your thighs and get higher and higher. His finger hooks under your panties and he pulls them down, and once he gets them off you, he puts the pair in his pocket. There’s too many pairs of your panties that have gone missing, meaning that professor Fushiguro took them and refused to give them back.

“What didn’t you understand this time?” He questions as two fingers run through your folds. You’re already so wet and he has yet to do anything. His lips meet yours before you can answer, his tongue entering your mouth and wandering while he slips one finger into your cunt.

“Hmm… Didn’t quite understand how–” You begin when he pulls away from the kiss, but you can’t finish your sentence. He inserts another finger, and curves them just right so they hit that sweet spot that makes your toes curl. 

“Didn’t quite understand what, darling?” Toji asks with a mocking tone. You don’t say anything though, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. You subconsciously begin to move your hips as he makes you feel so good. “Cat got your tongue?”

“It’s so good–” Is all you manage to say. And while you’re rolling your eyes, he decides to stop playing with your pussy. He presses his fingers against your lips, forcing you to take them into your mouth. You swirl your fingers around his fingers while his other hand goes to his belt and he unbuckles his belt. When he manages to pull his pants and briefs down, he takes his fingers out of your mouth. 

He strokes his cock, and he runs the tip through your folds. “You want this, darling? You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah.” You respond. He smirks as he teases you, his tip going to your entrance. He inserts the tip, but doesn’t give you more than just that. You’re about to complain, but you bite your tongue. But after some more teasing, you’re desperate and he can tell.

“You naughty girl. Getting fucked by your professor.” He says as he finally plunges himself into you. Every inch of his thick cock inside of you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “So desperate for my cock. So pathetic.”

You bite down your bottom lip as he begins to move, knowing that the rule he has set is to not be too loud. There’s other professors around and you can’t risk getting caught. Even while you’re feeling so good with his thick cock inside of you.

Your hand goes down to play with your clit while he moves in and out of you. Neither of you care about the paper that you’re sitting on. It’s getting messy, but Toji doesn’t care. He’ll just give the student an A, the poor soul needs it. 

“I love it.” You mutter while his cock hits every right spot. He hears muffled groans, which causes his lips to land on yours in a sloppy kiss. You keep playing with your clit, making your orgasm quickly build up, especially after Toji’s fingers started you off.

Toji gets so lost in your cunt. He didn’t think this would be more than a one-time thing after he saw you come into his office with a slutty skirt and a shirt that left little to the imagination– But he fucked you and ever since he’s been hooked. He pulls away and says, “Such a nice little pussy. Need to fuck it every day.”

“Fuck–” You moan, your walls tightening around him while you reach your peek. Toji moves faster and faster, not being able to restrain himself. The office walls are thin, but he couldn’t give a shit what the other people think he’s doing. They might as well think that he’s masturbating. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna come.”

You throw your head back, your back arching as you reach your high. You just have the cutest face when you come, it’s why he loves making you come so much. Toji chases his release, and you can tell he’s getting close to finishing as his thrusts become sloppy. 

“Oh, shit–” He groans, reaching his peak, filling you up with his cum. He gives a few subtle thrusts before he pulls out. He adjusts your skirt and tells you,

“As much as I love your company, I have to go back to grading papers.”

[i-already-know-im-going-2-hell]

Tags: teenchesters, eventual underage, wound licking kink Word count: 460

The dreams continue and they start filtering into daily life. Dean will lick a spoon and Sam feels uncomfortably hot. He'll be speaking to Sam and he has to pull his attention away and stare elsewhere because all he can feel is his lips brushing over his skin again.

It eventually gets to the point that Dean starts calling him out for acting so unnatural but even then all he can focus on is the painfully uncomfortable sensation of needing to feel his brother on his skin and knowing that's something he couldn't ask, so he starts avoiding Dean.

He throws himself harder into schoolwork than he's ever managed to do so before. Every offer that Dean throws out to crash on the couch, watch whatever rerun is on the shitty cable they're stealing from their neighbors, is rebuffed. He starts avoiding looking at his brother's face at all, talking to him while looking down at his textbooks, staying turned towards a wall and speaking to him sideways, or walking away towards the fridge to pretend to have an excuse to get up and away from Dean.

After prodding Sam for weeks Dean eventually starts snapping back at him whenever they speak. On nights he'd normally stay inside and crash with Sam he starts going out and staying out until he comes back in smelling of overly sweet perfumes and wearing marks that don't go away for days after.

When this happens the uncomfortable burn in his chest he's been carrying around is worse, making Sam clench his fists beneath the covers while they both pretend Dean doesn't know he's still awake.

He used to do almost anything to get Dean to shut up about what the girls he was with were like. Slinging a pillow across the room at his brother when his attempts to cover his ears with it were rebuffed by Dean merely talking louder. Those always ended with Dean flinging it back at him until they were wrestling on the floor, Dean holding his arms at his sides and Sam kicking at his shins until they were both panting and too tired to remember how they'd gotten there in the first place.

This time though, the room is filled instead with the only sound being Dean unbuckling his belt and letting his jeans drop.

His brother gets into his bed and Sam lays awake trying to keep his breathing steady. Biting his lip to keep his mouth closed he manages to stop himself from asking what she tasted like. Dean would probably answer him, even now, but he knows if he did the very next question out of his mouth would be if Dean preferred the way he tastes to her. After weeks of making sure Dean doesn't know what it is Sam's hiding, he can't take the chance he'll put the pieces together.

So he keeps his eyes closed and he pretends his brother is asleep too.

Part 1 | 2 | x

[idk6123]

The Perfect Student & The Delinquent (Mickey Milkovich X Male Reader)

Mickey never have been one for doing homework, or just doing anything school related at all. Some people call him stupid because of that, but he just doesn’t care. He knows how to make money and that is enough for him. He’s done with school, but school isn’t done with him. And this is school we’re talking about; they’re going to bother him about it by shoving the responsibility to someone else.

That’s when Y/N appears, one of the best students in the school. Mickey knew him. He’s a quiet kid. He didn’t find him annoying enough to beat him up, or rich enough to steal from. Thus, they never interact. However, that all starts one day, when the school hold Y/N responsible for getting Mickey’s grade up. Feeling screwed, he’s going to help Mickey without having much motivation.

“How the fuck should I suppose to know how algebra works!?”

“Maybe you know when you come to fucking class!”

“Maybe if you cut some class, you realize that’s the best way to not get your ass kicked!”

That’s when Y/N hold Mickey in a position that the punk can’t counterattack. Feeling his face against the floor, he looks at the side of eyes and look up to see Y/N, sitting on his body.

“You look like you want to fuck me.”

“Yeah, fuck you over if you don’t shut the fuck up and do your homework.”

To be honest, Mickey is quite surprised that Y/N isn’t the quiet kid he expected him to be. He thought the top student was some shy, timid guy that only wants to do homework, not a martial artist that has no time for bullshit.

“So, you want to lie down while I’m on top off you, or do you want to do something useful?”

Mickey scoffs. “Fine. Get your fat ass off me.”

“At least I got a nice ass.”

They sit down again at the couch and recontinue Mickey’s homework. As Y/N guides him, he notices how much Mickey is struggling with math, causing some frustration. Even after math, Mickey is struggling with almost every subject. English, chemistry, biology, you name it. Y/N bets the only class he can do is PE.

As Mickey continues to struggle on the task, Y/N can tell he’s going to burst out in anger anytime soon. “Let’s take a break.” Mickey looks back, staying quiet. “Got somethin’ to drink?”

“Beer is in the fridge.” Mickey answers. Y/N stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Grab one for me.”

Y/N does that, bringing back two beers. He hands one over to Mickey. After they pop off the caps, they both take a sip at the same time.

“Are you some masochist for doing this shit?”

“Nope. Just someone who hopes for a big job and get rich.” Y/N responds. “Get in a good college first though. You?”

“I just steal the money. We should stay in contact, just in case you get rich.”

Y/N chuckles. “Any chance you get any money from me if you’re either my husband or my sugar baby.”

“That’s a hard pass.”

For the rest of the day, after having their break, Y/N helped Mickey, tutoring him in about every subject. That being said, it doesn’t look bright.

-

It’s another day where Y/N helps Mickey. The straight A student made sure to reflect why Mickey isn’t doing well, not wanting to write it off with him just being dumb. Thus, after changing the homework just a bit, he manages to do something that may help Mickey.

“’In a week, your crew makes these many drug deals: 7, 5, 8, 6, 9, 4, 10. What's the median number of deals?’” This is the first question Mickey read, only thinking what happened to his homework. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m helping you. Now you can use math in your future business.” Y/N responds. “Now, try to figure it out.”

Mickey then looks back at the paper. For whatever reason, he appears he knows what he’s actually doing. He doesn’t look confused, instead he looks focused. “7 deals.”

“Right!” Y/N is happy Mickey finally got something right. “Now to the next.”

“’You got two weapons suppliers. One brings you 2x units and the other brings 3x units. If x is 5, how many total units you got?’” Mickey looks back at his tutor. “25 units.”

“Holy-” Y/N is surprised how well things are going. “Write down the solution.” Without any fuss, Mickey writes down the solution. Afterwards, he gives the paper back at Y/N. “Correct.”

Mickey smirks, grabbing the paper back. “And here people thought I was some dumbass.”

“Well, you proved them wrong.”

-

Now that every question is changed into a language into something Mickey comprehends, the speed of doing his homework changed from an entire day into 2 hours, with most of the time the questions correctly answered.

“’If you take a hit and your arm’s bleeding, which system in your body rushes to patch up the hole?’ The circulatory system.”

“’You got a new batch of goods, and you see the demand go up. If you usually move 50 units at $20 each, but now you can push 70 units at the same price, what’s the total revenue now?’ $1400.”

“If you're 'running' from the police, how do you say, 'we run' in Spanish?”

"Nosotros corremos"

Times passes quickly as Mickey completes his homework. After doing so, Y/N is wondering what kind of grade he gets. And it turns out he managed to get a…

“B+!”

Mickey looks surprised. “In total?”

“Yeah.” Y/N looks happy for his classmate. “You did great. Now you have to rely on regular questions, or you have to use your fantasy to turn it in something fun.”

“Do the second one.” Mickey answers. “To be honest, I’m surprised school can help me in my future.”

“The future full of crime.”

“Yep, and I give all the credit to you, not those assholes.” Mickey refers to the teachers without shame.

Y/N smirks. “They really are assholes. They black mailed me to tutor you, y’know?”

“They did?” Mickey is surprised, thinking it’s ridiculous. “Fucking bastards…” He then thought of something. “We should get revenge.”

“Whaddaya mean? You talking about a school shootin’ or somethin’?”

“No, just destroying the principal’s office. And for good sake, his car.”

Y/N thought about it, not declining the idea at first, causing Mickey to smile with glee. Feeling like he wants to bite back, the usually good student caves in. “Only after you ace your tests.”

Mickey offers a fist-Bumb, which Y/N accepts. “Deal.”

-

Y/N awaits outside of the classroom, wanting to see Mickey after finishing his last test. As Y/N daydream off, his eyes suddenly went wide awake when Mickey gets out of the classroom with a smirk on his face.

“And?”

“Not a problem.”

“Nice.” Y/N offers a high-five, which Mickey accepts.

“Now it’s for me to help your ass.” Mickey gestures his friend to follow him. They get to his locker, where Y/N sees multiple tools of destructions in the locker. “You’re backing down?”

Y/N grabs a hammer, checking it out. “Nah, they need to learn to not mess with me.”

Mickey looks proud. “Glad you’re not a pussy.”

After gathering their equipment, they get to the principal office. They see it’s empty, though locked. Using his lock-picks, Mickey opens the door, causing them to get access in the office. They look around, with Mickey looking back at his new delinquent friend.

“Want to do the first honour?”

Y/N holds the hammer tighter, with his eyes locking on the pc. With a heavy slam, the computer receives a massive hole, following up with another slam and another one. That’s when Y/N grabs what remained and throws it aside to stomp on it.

“There you go!” Mickey looks excited. He then gets to the desk, where he takes out all of the drawers to throw it away. “Let’s go wild!”

Chaos enfolds the entire room, as the two delinquents destroy the entire office. The shelves broken on the floor. All the files ruined and ripped apart. The chair being thorn into two. They even tagged the wall with a penis.

“You have a talent for making very gorgeous dicks.”

Mickey chuckles. “Naturally born talent.” He looks back at his friend. “And now we have made our territory.”

“Like a dog?”

“Yep.” Mickey hands move to his pants to unbuckle. He notices Y/N just standing. “You’re not joining?”

“I just think we should aim higher.”

“Like a shit?”

“No.” Y/N looks back at the desk. “Think anyone ever cummed on the desk?”

Mickey stops what he’s doing and looks back. “You want to fuck on the desk?”

“I don’t mean together.” Y/N clarifies himself, thinking Mickey is straight. “We could have turns jerking off.”

Mickey then just smirks. “Not the best time wise. It’s better we do it at once.”

“Huh?”

That’s when Mickey gets to Y/N to ambush him with a kiss, though surprised for a second, he quickly kisses back. The two guys quickly move to the table, where both guys begin undressing each other to take the ultimate insult.

-

“I think we’ve done enough orgies.”

“When is enough enough?” Mickey responds back.

They just stole the principle’s car and park it somewhere isolated, where Y/N and Mickey send another message from inside the car, multiple times.

Both guys are sitting in the front seat, where they chat as they’re covered in each other’s clothing.

“Well, I’m tired.”

“Of sex?”

“Yeah, l like it more dispersed.” Y/N grabs his boxers and put them on. “You’re one freaky shit to be able to have sex so many rounds.”

“Thanks.” Mickey merely responds. “There is more where that came from.”

Y/N hums. He grabs his t-shirt to put it on. As he does, he looks back at the guy next to him. “You’re staying naked?”

“I’m still up for one more round.”

“You really are a degenerate.” Y/N chuckles. “Well, the longer we stay here, the quicker the principle notices his car gone missing and the cops to find us.”

Mickey hums and think about it. “Right, I can’t really afford that.” That’s when he starts dressing up too.

“We can always do it another time.”

Mickey looks back to see a smirking man, giving him a smirk back. “I like the sound of that.”

-

“Got a B for math.” Mickey announces when Y/N walked in his house.

“Nice going.” Y/N looks proud. “And nice for me for being such a good and perfect teacher.”

“I wanna make a remark but consider the rest of my grades are all great, I let it pass.” Mickey goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and Y/N. “Did you hear about principle shitface?”

Y/N smirks. “What about him?”

Mickey goes back to Y/N to hand over a beer. “Wasn’t too fond to discover cum on his desk, as well in his car.”

“Nice.” Y/N laughs. He put up his beer. “Fuck the principle!”

“Fuck the principle!”

Mickey and Y/N both cheer, celebrating their victorious, whether it’s from Mickey getting good grades, or Y/N standing up for himself, or their new find friendship that will turn into something more.

[ghostif1ed]

ɞ - 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡

𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 "𝑔𝚑𝑜𝑠𝑡" 𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑥 𝑓!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡𝚑𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 (𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 •᷄ࡇ•᷅ ) 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙, 𝑛𝑜 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦/𝑛 , 𝑠𝚑𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑘𝑖𝑑 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠. 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑, 𝑖𝑡𝑠 KINDAAA 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑝. 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜𝚑𝑜𝑙, 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑐!! 𝑤𝑐: 𝟸,𝟹𝟺𝟶 𝑎/𝑛: 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑑, 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑐 ˃ᴗ˂. 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 ;)) 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑡𝚑𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒!!

the one day a year the man with the scary skull mask dreaded. the day that only came every 12 months. the day that only one man on the task force knew about. his birthday.

he usually avoided it, and disappeared all day, like a ghost. he did this every day, no one batted an eyelid. but when the team got you a tiny little cupcake with a candle for your birthday, you began wondering.

you’d wished soap a happy birthday before, and gaz and even overhead laswell wishing price one. but never the mysterious man who hides behind a mask and lurks in the darkness any chance he gets. so one day you bought price, a gift. some cheap alcohol that you managed to get your hands on. you gave it to him after a mission, claimed it was for his good work and that he needed a wind down- but really, your present was anything but that. 

he accepted it, gratefully, and you both sat on a little table in the meeting room sharing said bottle as the stars twinkled through the glass windows. the alcohol burned your throat, and you winced at the sensation as you lugged it back. you didn’t have another sip after that, and your plan started working. words spilt out of his mouth, faster than his brain could comprehend, you assumed anyway.

the question bubbled up in your throat. ask him, c’mon he won’t remember in the morning. “

so” you began. “you ever seen his face”. his brows furrowed. “you know, the big scary man with that mask”. 

“oh” he perked up. “yeah.. yeah, not for ages though, but he-“. his words blurred in your head, and you nibbled your lips before you asked the question.

“when’s his” the attention shot back to you as you spoke again. “when’s his birthday?”. he chuckled, and finally answered your burning question. 

“but, kid. don’t tell anyone” he gave you a pointed look. you giggled and tapped your finger to your nose twice.

“secrets safe with me captain”

that night you ran back to your room and hurried over to your uniform, grabbed the little sparkly pink notepad you safely had hidden away in your jacket pocket - followed by a pen you had bought as a kid on a family holiday - and scribbled down the date he had told you. sleep overpowered your thoughts about what you could give this mysterious man for his birthday.

over the next following week, you had thought of an idea. one cold night up in the snowy mountains of god knows where was all you needed for inspiration.

you remembered the feeling of his cold fingers on your arm as he patched up the bullet graze you’d received. recalling the way they prickled goosebumps onto your skin, how the chill of them went straight down your spine. how you’d asked him if he was cold and he brushed you off with a quiet grunt, a warning for you to keep quiet and let him do his job. 

and that was all you needed. you had the perfect present. 

the passing months you began working. making price order all these craft supplies. white paint, black paint, black wrapping paper, threads, needles, a white bow. he was confused, but he obliged anyway, anything to make you happy. hell, you even made him buy an iron, which you proceeded to steal the box it came in, which made him more confused. you poured your heart and soul into this present, and you hoped ghost could see that.

the day came around, and simon riley woke up after a wink of sleep and continued on with his normal day. but you, on the other hand, jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn, the sun barely breaking over the horizon. he picked up on this. the dirty bowl you left in the sink, the cereal you’d left out on the counter. he knew it was you, no one else would be awake this early and he knew price, who was normally up after him, never ate lucky charms, he thought the sweet marshmallows would rot his teeth.

he lost track of you then. the man who normally had his eye on everyone had lost sight of you out of everyone. the girl who always greeted everyone in the morning with a bright smile. the girl who always asked if anyone wanted some breakfast. the girl who always asked if everyone had a nice sleep. he was confused, to say the least. concerned maybe. but he was worried, you couldn’t possibly know, could you?

the afternoon rolled around, and the little box sat neatly under your bed as you prowled around the base looking for something to do. your feet brought you to the gym, where soap and gaz were training, the leather of their boxing gloves hitting against the heavy bags hanging from a hook echoed around the room.

soap saw you first, he stopped what he was doing and turned his body to face you. “last person i expected to see in here” he chuckled, struggling to catch his breath. 

this didn’t catch the attention of gaz, who was on the other side of the room with his headphones on at full volume.

you shrugged “looking for something to do” 

“not in here, lass. thought you were on bed rest”

he was right, the sprain in your wrist you had gained by hitting the punching bag at the wrong angle had put you out of missions and price had insisted you stayed on ‘bed rest’ for a few days. he claimed it was for the best, you tried to argue your way out of it, but to no avail.

“hey” you rolled your eyes “it's a sprained wrist, not a broken back, i don’t need bed rest”

“if that’s what you think” a smirk rose on his face, as he turned back towards the punch bag.

you sighed, admitting defeat and turning back on your heels making a b-line for your room. the door slammed behind you, accidentally, and you made a mental note to apologise to price later. you quickly lay down on the floor and stuck your arm under the bed, looking for the small, wrapped, black present you’d hidden there.

successfully retrieving the box, you sat back up into a crisscross position. the sight of the box made your heart beat just a little faster, the nerves were kicking in. you’d accepted him as a friend. but what if he didn’t think of you as that? it was a silly thought. so you reached back under the bed and grabbed the secret stash of bottles you kept right in the corner. liquid courage, you told yourself as the cheap vodka slid down your throat, leaving the tasteless burn in its wake, eyes screwed shut as you cringed at the feeling.

the next moment you found yourself outside his room. you’d hidden the box behind your back, but you’d shifted on your feet before you were able to reach for the door handle. but a gruff, deep voice bellowed out your name before you could. 

“are you going to stand there or are you coming in” his loud voice reached your position at the door.

“sorry, sir” you squeaked out quietly, doubting that he even heard you. 

the room felt.. empty. he barely had any furniture and the bed, which he sat on, fell empty in the corner. his gun was in pieces on said bed and you feared this wasn’t the best time to come. you met his brown eyes and he just stared at you, a silent question as to what you were doing standing in the middle of his room.

“uhm.. hi, sir” you cleared your throat and stuck your hand that was behind your back out, which on it, sat the little square box that you had nicely wrapped in jet black wrapping paper and a sparkly white bow. 

“happy birthday?” it came out more of a question and you didn’t even know if it was still your voice talking.

his dead eyes bored into yours. they did flicker down to the present for a second. but only that second did they acknowledge it. you began to feel nervous under his stare and your eyes scrambled to focus on anything but his. you must have stood there for a minute, but the awkward silence was eating you alive. so, you decided to place the gift on the end of his bed and leap out the door.

“happy birthday, sir” as you closed the door softly and scurried back to your room to take a cold shower.

little did you know, 5 minutes after you left the room, ghost picked up the present. it looked tiny in his hand whilst it dwarfed yours. he sat and thought for a moment. how did you know, and why, why did you give him a present? he didn’t deserve it. 

the gun parts forgotten on the bed next to him as he stared holes into the present. maybe it would unwrap itself, or maybe just disappear. sighing, he decided to peel back the wrapping paper

the fresh scent of sweet strawberries clung to your hair and your fresh clothes sat comfortably on your body. but your insides felt anything but comfortable. in-fact, they felt like they had been spilt out and stuffed back in carelessly. he didn’t seem to like your present. you felt anxious. you had hoped the beads of water dropping onto your skin would wash away the feeling, but it still lingered around you like a bad smell.

you sighed and tore your eyes away from your face in the mirror. it was late now, and your rumbling stomach rung in your ears. so, you decided to get something to eat.

you passed price on the way to the kitchen. the fluffy socks that clad your feet slipped on the floor slightly as you tried to speed past him. he grabbed your arm though, which saved you the embarrassment of falling flat on your face, but also you now had to face him.

“shit” you chucked 

“where you heading in such a rush, kid” 

“to the kitchen” you smiled 

“ok, ok” he let go of your arm. “have u seen ghost?”

your heart started beating slightly quicker and you hoped he couldn’t hear the hitch in your breath.

“he was supposed to-“ 

“no captain, sorry” you cut him off, and stumbled your way past him and to where you were originally heading. “sorry, thanks, see you later”.

 you stumbled round the corner of the kitchen, knocking your hip bone into the corner of a counter in the process. then proceeded to grab your meal and sit down at the table. the room was oddly empty and it left you alone with your thoughts again. surely you were overreacting, it was a bloody present it doesn’t matter, the next time he will emerge from his room will be in 2 months and he will have forgotten by then. or maybe you could pretend like nothing happened. 

the clattering of metal rang through the empty silence of the big room, as did the screeching of your chair as you stormed back to your room. god, you needed a rest.

and that’s what you did. it only lasted 4 hours, and by that time it was 1 am. far too late to go back to sleep. but far too early to wake up and start your day. so you found yourself on the rooftop of the base. the withered steal door held open by some big rock soap had found, he had claimed it was valuable but the only value it had now was being a doorstop.

you chuckled at the memory and turned your attention back to the atoms in the sky. it reminded you of home, the stars. they made you feel calm, and the cool breeze of the night that was sweeping through your hair steadied your heartbeat.

the tin box you sat on suddenly shook. it almost felt like someone had sat behind you. who would be awake this late? oh.. ghost.

“yeah?” you broke the silence of the night.

“what are you doing out here” his rough voice was quieter than normal. you’d never heard the tone before, especially from him. 

“could ask you the same thing” 

he cleared his throat, which you took as a prompt to turn around. so you heaved your body around to the right to face him. 

his face was, of course, covered but he had swapped his hard shell mask out for the black balaclava with the skull pattern laid onto it. you didn’t wanna meet his eyes, so you looked down, and that’s when you saw them.

your present. you’d bought him simple black gloves but, they were heated. you’d also gone the extra mile to paint on a skeleton hand design, just like his old ones. you’d sealed the paint with an iron and added a special touch on the inside. in a white thread you had delicately stitched on his initials S.R. you forced him to tell you his name when he was stitching your wounds that time, he reluctantly agreed, anything to shut you up.

he must have noticed your staring because he lifted his hand up and flexed his fingers. “nice, aren’t they”.

you blushed and hope he couldn’t see the tinge in the low light. “shut up”.

“i-“ he started. “i like them a lot kid, thank you” it was the most emotion he’d shown to you in the 2 years of knowing him, and it made you smile, a genuine smile.

“it’s ok” 

“how’d you know it was my birthday, huh”

your smile only widened. “that’s a secret, sir” 

both of you sat there for a while, the silence was comfortable. then he disappeared back down the stairs, just like a ghost. 

safe to say, he never took those gloves off.

 ୨   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ࣪   ˖  .   ୧

[esa1900]

Muzans daughter!reader x douma

its late at night when you finally mak it home after 3 weeks. no one knows where you’ve been, why, or how it all happened. of coaurse, thats what douma wanted to know.

you two have been fighting ever since you arrived at the temple. you were hoping that no one would notice you, and that you will just try and avoid douma until the next morning, but of course one of his worshippers saw you and reported back to him. its not like they like you or anything. you did steal all of their loards attention after all. she knows that you are in for a lot of trouble once her lord, douma, gets to lay his hands on you, thats exactly whats happening right now.

“(y/n)!”

he says, burging into the your shared bedroom, slamming the door open as you were trying to put down your stuff. hoping to fall asleep before hes done doing whatever the hell he does in that ‘secret room’ of his. and that when he finds you asleep hell just ignore it all until the next morning. or maybe he wont even go into the room at all. maybe tonight he would be hunting outside for humans rather than the ones who worshp him.

you flinch at his yelling of your name and look up at him from across the room. your both quiet, not saying anything while staring into eachothers eyes. your eyes holding fear and regret, while his are mixed with confusion, and wrath.

where the fuck have you been for the past three weeks?! and why didnt you say anything to him when you came back? did you expect him to act like nothing happened once he sees you laying in your bed after this?

“..douma..-“ you try to find something to say but you know that you cant get out of this now.

“where the fuck have you been for the past three weeks?!” He asks, stomping towards you, leading with his arms, as if wanting to hold you tight, but he’s too angry to do so.

youre not sure if he has his arms out in question of where youve been, or has them out for an embrace, or if hes about to grab you and shake answers out of you. hes not even sure why he has his arms out like this!

“douma, listen.” you take a step back with your arms also reaching out for.. protection, and gesturing him to wait,

“the only think i want to hear is where you were this whole time!” he says now one of his pointer finger pointing at you, as he keeps getting closer, and closer. his voice getting louder. his expression getting angrier.

“can explain..” you try and gesture for him to calm down wiht your hands, motioning towards the ground with your palms facing the ground, “i was kidnapped by the demon slayers.”

what? no, this takes douma by surpris, “what?”

“you were kidnapped and you didn’t even try to tell me when you made it back?!” “douma, listen-“”i don’t want to hear your excuses,” he takes both your shoulders and firmly places you down on your shared bed, making you yelp from the way he handled you. “youre going to explain everything to me right. now! and you better believe you’re not getting out of this easy.”

“i was-“ “how could you even do this?” douma asks, more himself than you, before placing his pointer and middle finger on his temple while his thumb is places on his cheek, “does your father even know about this? he’s been looking for you, and ordered all the upper moons to loo-“ “douma! i know all this-“ “dont you dare interrupt me.” He yells , leaning his body towards you so that he is towering your figure while he has his pointer finger out, scolding you, “not after all this.”

“the only thing i want to hear coming out’ that mouth of yours is what the fuck happened.” he fixes his posture again, realizing hes not giving you a chance to speak, and places his hands at his sides, resting them there, while looking down at your figure, too afraid to stand up from the bed hes shoved you onto.

“…they- somehow! managed to find out im Muzans daughter and-“ “when did it happen?”

“Noon? i think,” youre eyes look up, trying to recall when it all happened, the same eyes start tearing up as you recall everything that’s happened, along with dolmas yelling, making a perfect combination for you to cry, “i was searching for some materials father asked me to look for and-‘ gasp, youre interupted my a gasp of air and a cry.

“go on.” douma says coldy, shifting his arms from his hips to folding them on top of his chest.

“-and- im not sure i think one of the farmers was actually a demon slayer? i was asking him about those materials and- it all happened so fast-“

“what. happened?” douma cuts you off.

“im not sure, i was held from behind and drugged, the next thing i know, i was in front of the hashira.” you take a hand up to your cheeks and wipe some tears off, not daring to look douma in the eyes.

“do you know where that was?” his tone is ice cold, its like you werent talking to the man you married, the anger was heard in his tone.

“no”

“was ubuyashiki there?”

“yes!”

doumas expression changes to one mixed with surprise and curiousity, he leans forward to your figure. “does your father know about this? do you know how long hes been looking for that man?” “no! i just got here for gods sake.”

“what did that man say to you?” douma grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, your faces now an inch apart.

“he di-“ “does he have children? do you know which one is the next leader of the corps?”

“let me speak!” you yell, “yes! he has children, but they’re all girls” “how many?” “its hard to tell,” you start struggling agaisnt his tight grip on your wrist. “they all looked identical except for one, she had black hair.”

“i think theyre three? atleast three, at most five, yes.”

you explain while trying to estimate how many children they do have.

“what are their ages?”

“i over heard the kakushi speaking, they said they were all- quintoplits! they have five children and theyre quintoplits!” you say in urgency as soon as you remember that fact.

“five children… quintoplits you say..?” douma lets go of your wrist and leans back, bringing a hand up to his chin to massage it while he thinks.

“do you know how old the parents are?”

“not sure, the father looked to be in his early to mid twenties, he also had some-.. skin injury, he looked ill.”

“Mhm…” he thinks for a moment, looking to the side, his hand still resting on his chin.

“What about the hashira?” He looks back at.

”there were nine of them, flame, water, mist, serpent? Stone, wind, and… sound! And there was an insect hashira. A-and I think she’s related to that flower hashira you killed! I heard them say something about that too…” you try your best to remember all the facts and lay them out to douma.

Douma takes a moment to think, not taking his eyes off of you the whole time.

All of a sudden, he takes you by the shoulders gently so you can stand up, non of the anger can be sensed in his touch.

You stand up on your feet as he gently helps you up and curls his arm enough so that your figure is tugged closer to himself.

“That’s enough for you tonight,” you look up at him, confused, and scared, but behind all this there’s a subtle feeling of relief as he embraces you like this, his strong demonic arms taking you in, ever so softly, away from any harm, “go get washed up, I’ll call your father.”

He gives your back a few, soft rubs before releasing you, and you’re left wondering what might happen next.

[deaths-presence]

Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 8: Ties that Bond

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 1.9k Characters Featured: Yosano Akiko, Dazai Osamu Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, lmk if I happened to miss anything please! Tag List: @decaf-nosebleed @isa-ghost @xakumi @bunchofdoodlesinspace A/N: HI I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN CONSUMED BY OTHER MEDIA I promise I have not forgotten this fic.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You honestly couldn’t act surprised when you first stepped into Dazai’s apartment. Your eyes shifted to the tatami mats that covered the floor in a small moment of amazement. You always wondered how comfortable they were, given the cultural difference. You were satisfied to find out that they were more pleasant to walk on than the hardwood floors back home once you took your shoes off.

The rest of the scene in front of you was what you expected in some capacity. Not only was it clearly messy with empty bottles and takeout containers, but disorganized to where you weren’t sure how Dazai found anything in his own home. You kept your mouth shut. As sarcastic as you could be, you didn’t want to bring harsh judgment for someone who was so distinctly depressed. You didn’t know everything about Dazai after meeting each other in less than a week.

“I hate to know the answer, but where exactly will I be staying while I’m here?” Your voice was neutral. Your gaze was taking in the small size of the space, and you couldn’t help but notice that there were no walls showcasing the possibility of more rooms besides the bathroom.

“Oh, you can just steal my futon. I made sure to clean it before leaving this morning,” he mentioned casually, his eyes watching your face. He smirked as you whirled your head towards him.

“What?! I can’t just take your bed! Where will you sleep?” you stammered.

He shrugged his angular shoulders. “I’ll just sleep on the mats. It’s better than having you sleep on them, unless you’d rather share my futon?”

Your hand that meant to swat at him missed. “In your dreams.”

“I will,” he quipped smugly, trying to hide his amusement at your glare. “Make yourself comfortable as much as you wish. I’m afraid I can’t stay long since I have a meeting to attend.”

“Oh, at the ADA?” you questioned.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s something more complicated than that,” he sighed in annoyance you managed to pick up from his voice.

You didn’t ask since it was not your business to begin with. You weren’t an Agency member, so this sort of discussion wasn’t something you were entitled to. Your eyes were stuck on the appearance of the kitchen now, and it made you ask a question out loud before you could stop it.

“Dazai, when was the last time you had something homemade?” You barely registered the squeak coming out of your mouth before slapping a hand over it, but Dazai only laughed at your horrified expression.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable to have someone so worried about me,” he responded, his voice lowering as he leaned in. You recovered from your comment and scoffed before stepping outside of his reach.

“Oh, you’re one to worry about alright.”

He opened his mouth to continue your little back and forth but was stopped by the chime of his phone. He looked at the screen before smiling towards you. “I’m afraid that’s my call, but I would love to stay here with you instead.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you deadpanned while crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Which reminds me,” he started before searching through his pockets, “I got you something in case you happen to need to call anyone.”

You looked over the simple flip phone before taking it with a nod. “It’s better than nothing.”

“My thoughts exactly! I already added my number so if there’s something wrong, I’m only a call away,” he informed while sauntering towards the door. He paused from leaving to look back at you. “Need anything?”

“Uh—” You did a quick glance around as if trying to find something—anything—that would come to mind. Drawing a blank, you shook your head. Dazai grinned before shutting the door and locking it behind him. You wandered around your newfound silence for a moment before making the decision yourself. You had to at least help clean.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Part of you was glad that you hadn’t made anything for dinner to try to surprise Dazai. Most of your time was spent deep cleaning and organizing the entire space, pausing very few times to wipe the sweat off your brow and look at your progress before continuing. Not only did you feel better with your mind off everything happening, but the hours had passed for you to see that the sky was now starting to turn dark and become speckled with stars.

You warily answered a knock that came at your door, your eyes brightening when they landed on Yosano with offered food. Two portions: one for you and one for Dazai when he got back from the mission he was on, she told you. You temporarily invited her in, and her magenta eyes didn’t seem to recognize the room.

“Did you do all this?” she questioned. “Dazai didn’t make you, did he?”

“He didn’t have to. I figured it would be a nice shock, and I feel better about it,” you replied, starting into your yakisoba. “Remind me that I owe you, by the way.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Yosano waves off your offer. “I figured Dazai wouldn’t have anything for you to eat anyway.”

“I didn’t even give that a thought when he asked if I needed anything,” you groaned in disappointment. How could you forget something so simple? “Especially since I thought he would be back by now.”

You both conversed for roughly half an hour before she took her leave, and after cleaning for hours on end you were starting to find yourself dozing off after the feeling of a full stomach. Your eyes slid over to Dazai’s futon that he had offered you, but everything inside you said not to take it. It was clear that he didn’t mind having much, and to take something such as his own bed didn’t sit right with you. Instead, you decided to gather blankets you managed to store away. You made a makeshift bed with them and curled up to get comfortable, your eyes closing into a deep sleep.

It was hours later before you felt a strange warmth bring you out of sleep. It disappeared once your eyes fluttered open, and you blearily looked towards a familiar figure kneeling next to you. Dazai didn’t get to say a word as you sat up.

“Dazai, your arm—” you began while reaching for his wrist. You examined it carefully but found that nothing was wrong. “I thought it was broken.”

“I thought I told you I would sleep elsewhere,” he retorted, his voice tired and quiet. “I also purposely made it seem like it was broken. It’s my favorite gag.”

“Favorite gag? I thought you were hurt,” you sulked. It wasn’t until your half-asleep mind registered that you were touching Dazai and hovering so close that you withdrew your touch. “What time is it?”

“Late enough not to worry. I expected the mission to be a quick defeat. Did you know that Lovecraft’s ability isn’t really a gift?”

“Genuinely, no,” you yawned out. “He was always a mystery to me besides claiming to want to sleep. What do you mean that it wasn’t a gift? Oh, Yosano also came by with food because I was an idiot and didn’t ask before you left. There’s a container for you.”

 “I couldn’t nullify and cancel his ability with my touch.” Dazai’s eyes followed to where you pointed, and smirked when you didn’t move while trying to wave you off. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sleeping until I know you’ve eaten,” you grumbled and squinted your eyes at him. “I’m not responsible for you starving yourself. When asked why I’m so tired, I’ll tattle on you. I can hear Kunikida already.”

The giggle he gave at that shouldn’t have made your chest flutter, but you were successful as he finally stood and went to heat up the yakisoba. Your eyes were on him while he wasn’t watching. He had managed to fool you with the idea of his arm being broken for a reason, and you were beginning to think that he did intentionally. His mind was possibly just as brilliant as Miss Louisa’s, if not more. It was plausible he saw right through you and merely pretended to play dumb.

“See something you like?” His teasing voice brought you out of your thoughts, making you hold back a strangled noise at being caught before you turned your head away. Yes, he certainly wore a mask to keep himself distanced from you.

“I’m true to my promise, that’s all,” you scoffed. You mentally cursed as he shook his head, knowing it was a horrible lie.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it was comfortable. Your eyes were fighting to stay open again, and it was Dazai’s voice that shook you out of it.

“You didn’t have to clean everything up. Thank you.” The tone had caught you off guard. It wasn’t his usual jeering one, nor was it honeyed. It was raw and gentle, making his words more genuine to you. You only shrugged, but on the inside, you yearned for him to talk like that more often.

“Consider it my thanks for letting me stay,” you said, your own voice softening in return. “As appreciation for the ADA as well. It’s better than my treatment in the Guild.”

“Would you ever be interested in joining an organization to use your ability in?” You caught the way Dazai’s head tilted to the side while he waited for your response.

“It would depend on what happens when I find Roberte. My priority despite the setbacks has always been trying to locate him. I genuinely haven’t thought about my own outcomes,” you replied. “I would also have to make sure that the organization I dedicate myself to follows my own morals.”

Despite the occasional flirtatious comment towards you, you found conversation with Dazai pleasant as he ate, and you listened. Your earlier thought of him being brilliant was confirmed once you were able to get him deep into a conversation about the strategy of the broken arm. He had purposely let Lovecraft believe that he had ripped it off, only to end up being blown up from the inside of his monstrous form where he was weakest. You were also amused by how Dazai shivered and grimaced at the mention of a man named Chuuya, going onto a rant focused on him after mentioning how he helped defeat the eldritch being. It wasn’t until Dazai realized you were fighting exhaustion that he stopped.

“Finally released from the curse of making sure I didn’t go to bed starving?” he questioned with a smile.

“Shut it,” you grumbled sleepily. You started to shift back into the nest of blankets you had made but began protesting when Dazai pushed you off onto the nearby futon.

“As host, I have to make sure my guest is comfortable,” he excused, but his smug smile made you want to throttle him. You gave up, having no other choice with Dazai taking over the blankets. A small pout was on your face as you got under the blankets. “Thought you said it was adorable for someone to worry over you,” you snorted. It wasn’t long before you surrendered to sleep once again, not even noticing the way Dazai was watching you.

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

*** 

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?" 

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail." 

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up. 

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes. 

***  

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity." 

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments. 

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

*** 

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public. 

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of  beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table." 

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole. 

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

***  The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it. 

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent? 

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime.  You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you. 

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow  :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up. 

"You're leaving already?" 

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer. 

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one. 

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer." 

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue. 

"No, I don't play." 

"Come on, let me teach you." 

"Really? And how will you do that?" 

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand. 

"It went in!" 

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette. 

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?" 

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?" 

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's." 

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face. 

*** 

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry. 

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well. 

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air. 

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side. 

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

[wayfayrr]

Love your work and househusband has me in a choke hold. But I have an idea what if when a month or two with reader and sage in reader's world with him getting used to it and knowing the ins and outs of reader's life and so getting rid of some of reader's friends who got too touchy for sages taste and when things so perfect as he doesn't have to do hylia's bidding anymore and monsters aren't attacking and people are finally understanding that reader is his and he getting almost all of reader's attention then when he gets back into the house from shopping he finds the traitors (chain) in the living room and now the chain know reader is OK and the bickering between the chain and sage happens again altho much easier since reader is gone at work at times. Like the idea reader works at an office and when tired from work goes to coddle sage.

May I be 👾 anon

Of course you can be 👾!! ✨✨ It's great to have you and I'm glad you like it!! And you're certainly not the only one that househusband Sage has in a chokehold ASDKMFVJFG, the idea of him being all domestic is straight-up addictive.

But for Sage to have everything so perfectly in the palm of his hand only to be reminded of everything if the chain just drop in? It would infuriate him. If there wasn't the chance that his darling could either come home at any moment or that their neighbours could call the police, the chain would be gone. But he can't risk this life that he's earned after everything that disgrace forced him to endure. That he's put so much effort into making it perfect for both of you, taking care of anyone in the way. He had it all. And now these traitors think they can just come and steal you after all of his hard work? like they deserve what belongs to him? they're no better than Hylia herself.

Below the cut is a short snippet of reader getting home to find Sage and the chain, because I just couldn't help myself ASKNDFV

 It’s strange to think how easily Sage has settled into living here now. Seeing as it’s been less than three months and he seems so much happier than he ever did in Hyrule. I still worry about the chain every so often, but now things are starting to look less like we’ll ever go back to them. While it was stressful a couple of weeks ago, now it just seems like everyday life with the added bonus of having someone to go home to at the end of the day. Sage mentioned he was planning something for today, going for some ingredients in order to attempt to make something special. That alone's a huge improvement, given he usually only goes shopping with me. 

Why is there - Is that arguing?

“Sage is everything alright I could hear– Guys? What? When did you get here?”

They, They’re actually here. They’re safe and alive. The shadow didn’t manage to kill them. Although Sage looks like he might. His bags strewn across the floor and his knuckles white from how tense he is. But not before Wind chirped up.

“[Name] you’re alright! We’ve been looking for you for so long!”

“You’ve been looking for me? But surely you should’ve been focusing on… you should’ve been going after the shadow.”

Time’s grimace wasn’t what I needed to see at that moment however, it answers the question enough. He barely took a step towards me before Sage had me in his arms growling at him. Warning him to stay away from me. Like he was before they went missing. The others didn’t take that lightly, not with how openly he was being possessive; with only Rulie being calm enough to try defusing the bomb that is clearly about to blow. “It’s not like we aren’t chasing the shadow, but you’re important to us [Name]. But we can all go back to Hyrule now, can’t we?”

“I mean -” “No. I - We don’t want to go back there. We’re better off here.”

[skoulsons]

im suffering in joel emotions ok listen

I cant get over his nervousness in the birthday flashback. The last birthday he experienced, his own or someone’s else’s, was his. And, in under less than three hours after it technically ended, the apocalypse hit their town and Sarah died

There are no good memories associated with his birthday, but I also think birthdays in general. I believe the idea at all has left a sour taste in his mouth. And especially after twenty years in the apocalypse with no one and no reason to celebrate a birthday, why would he even care?

But then there’s Ellie. His second chance. She turned 15 either on the road depending on how long we think she was 14 for when they met, or she turned 15 not too long into Jackson, before they were comfortably settled.

So her 16th is the “big” one. And despite this man who, to me, had gained a hatred and general disinterest in birthdays or celebrations in general, puts one together for Ellie. He says “Maria. She, uh… she told me about it. Figured It’d be right up your alley” but I really think he outright asked her about the surrounding area and anything regarding dinosaurs and/or space that he could use for her birthday :’)

But he puts a little trip together. A few days—ride out, there, and then ride back. He clears out the whole building to make sure it’s safe. Ellie’s notebook says “Joel said he‘a taking me on a camping trip next week for my birthday. He found something he said I’ll love. He’s acting very proud of himself. Smug old fogey.”

Again, I think he’s become very disinterested in the whole idea of birthdays and celebrating. But then, lo and behold, he and Ellie are now together and they have a safe life in Jackson and he gets to spoil her.

And he does. Clears the building out. Finds an old space launch tape for her Walkman and writes “HAPPY BIRTHDAY. love, Joel” (im telling you right now when I found this out I sobbed for hours im not kidding I SOBBED). He makes it as perfect and special as he possibly can.

But then in the space shuttle. He’s nervous. Just… something about him screams that he’s nervous to me. The little hitched breath after telling her “it’ll be worth it” if she closes her eyes to listen (which?? did he steal her walkman briefly to listen to it to make sure it worked?? maybe that’s a dumb thought). the way he has tears in his eyes like the whole scene? “I do okay?” Because he doubts himself and is scared that, somehow, it wasn’t a good trip. And her “are you fucking kidding me?” Is enough for Joel for an answer because he knows what means in Ellie-speak

but for a man who had his last birthday ruined in unimaginable ways, it was repaired in the way he went all out to make Ellie’s 16th as good and memorable as he possibly could. for her birthday, maybe the first proper one she ever got, to be as special as he could manage. to make it something good for her

[lamuradex]

40K In 42 Days Update: Week One

@the-wip-project

Started with 20,191. I'm now at 24,331.

So that means I'm 4140 Words in. 10.35%.

I think I might be a little behind a week into the challenge, but I'll catch up. I'm not gonna let myself get too stressed by all this.

For this challenge I'm continuing my latest novel The Madman and The Princess, a comedic crime drama, which features a pair of crooks, Gideon and Madeline, trying to make their way in the world, all the while dealing with bigger criminals who keep trying to cause them trouble.

And, just because I'm bored, I'm going to post the last section I've been working on, where Madeline is part of a heist crew, and she's stuck with the insufferable team hacker while robbing someone's house and disabling the security.

Excerpt below the break

Madeline started looking around the room. A few bookshelves, multiple hard drives, a few processors branded with SuperTech, so they were almost certainly in the right place. No valuables though, which was disappointing.

“So, what I’m doing is, I’m plugging into the system and attacking the Log In Protocols with various programs. One’s that will bypass the password and let us in,” Charles explained.

“Great,” Maddy answered with very little interest.

“I just need to get something into the OS, make it boot up in safe mode, and thus bypass the log in altogether.”

“Grand,” she said with more emphasis.

“And then I’ll be able to-”

“Fantastic!” she interrupted sharply. She was still searching the room by torchlight, but could hear how put out he was. She didn’t care. “Isn’t all the security footage usually stored in a hard drive anyway? Couldn’t we just steal that?”

Charles flapped his lips like she’d just proposed flying out of there. “Are you insane? There could be so many back-ups. And even if not, it’s better to make sure the footage isn’t still on the computer.”

“Then why don’t we just take the whole computer? I’m sure it’s worth something,” she suggested.

“Yes, but I’d love to see you carry it out of here,” Charles shot back.

Maddy glared. “Ever been slapped by a plastic hand, Charles?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like to be?” She brandished her prosthetic.

Charles grimaced, priming some insult. Likely one concerning dexterity. But Maddy didn’t give him the chance.

“There’s a safe over here, by the way.” She shone her torch at it. No picture to hide this one, it was a black rectangle in the wall with a keypad on it.

“Interesting,” Charles sprang out of his chair. “Let’s see what goodies are in here.” He popped on his headset and got Gloria on the line. “Gloria, I need info on a Hazard Safe 4013, serial number 345-” and Maddy stopped listening. She wandered to the computer, the tablet plugged in and doing… something. Then she paused. A metaphorical bulb came on over her head.

Security’s greatest weakness was always human error, or so Gideon had always taught her. You could walk right in to or out of any building with the right uniform and a confident enough attitude. All it took was a lazy guard who didn’t want to check credentials, or someone who could be intimidated out of doing their job.

And this security room was inside someone's house. Surely, if someone was in here, as they already were, then that meant they’d already beaten the security, right? And from what she knew, Efram Malik was in his forties. He was old. The kind of man who may have forgotten his dog and left it to his staff to manage for the weekend. 

She leaned around the monitor and checked the back. And, while not on the monitor itself, there was a little scrap of yellow paper sticking out from under the mouse mat. It was a post-it note. On it was written “Mailk1985SUPERSTAR!” in messy handwriting.

Without checking with Charles, she typed it in and unlocked the computer.

“I’m in,” she said dramatically.

“What!” Charles looked back.

Maddy got up and didn’t care to explain. “You two got that safe open yet?”

“What? No? How did you-”

“Have you tried powder on the keypad to check for fingerprints. That’s worked for me in the past,” she bold facedly lied.

“I’ll… I’ll get to that computer in a minute. Don’t touch anything else.”

“You sure? I could check the cameras to see where the valuables are?” she suggested.

Charles flapped, stuck between working on the safe and working on the computer.

“Do you want me to work on the safe? You can hack the system or whatever?”

“Um… Yes, that sounds right,” Charles agreed, sounding a little confused at even that decision.

“Then I’ll need your headset, right? Have Gloria walk me through the safe?” She stuck out a hand to accept it.

Charles thought, but clearly couldn’t come up with an argument. He passed over the Bluetooth earpiece and a small bag of tech tools. Maddy clipped on the earpiece.

“…and what do you mean you’re alone with her? Charles? Answer me?” Gloria called.

“Charles can’t come to the phone right now. He wants me to get the safe open while he deals with the cameras and such,” Maddy answered in her best call centre voice.

“What? Why are you on Charles’s phone?”

“I literally just said,” Maddy stated. “Now, how am I getting into this safe. Because I could just take a crowbar to it if it’s easier.”

“No!” Gloria stopped her. “Seriously, Charles wants you to open the safe?”

“He’s very busy,” Maddy brushed her off, temper rising.

“How much do you know about private security?”

“I’m going to say very little.”

“And what about coaxial ports and cables?”

“Even less.”

“And you’re supposed to get a safe open? Oh, honey,” Gloria crooned.

Maddy took a breath, counting to ten in her head. “Look, all you need to do is tell me what bits go where and we can do this. If not, we can wait until Charles is done with the computer. So, what are we doing?”

Gloria sighed. “If I must. Tell me, are there any ports on the front of the safe?”

Maddy looked. “No.”

“No little divots? Little plug sockets? You know what a plug looks like, right?”

Maddy did her best to shoot a scowl down the phone line. “Did you really just ask that?”

“Are there any holes on the front of the safe?” Gloria asked slowly.

“No there are not,” Maddy answered slower. “The front is a clean matt-black with a ten number keypad. There’s a digital display for the numbers but the classic sort like a calculator display. There are no ports of any kind. So, now what?”

Gloria thought a moment. “Can you find any powder in your vicinity? There might still be residue on the buttons.”

Maddy gritted her teeth so hard it hurt.