#i can confidently say this is nowhere near my best work....it sucks....but i had to finish it so i could stop thinking about it

[cadavercowboy]

Business As Usual

Pairing: Stepfather!Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: If you go looking for attention, Nick is going to give it to you...but it’ll be on his terms.

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). It’s utterly OOC because this was just an excuse for me to write porn. Stepfather/daughter relationship (it’s ‘I Have Severe Daddy Issues’ o’clock!). Cheating. Manipulation. Implied gaslighting. Dub-con elements. Degradation/humiliation. Hand kink? Spit kink. Choking. Oral sex. Vaginal penetration. Over-stimulation. Face slapping. Forced orgasm. Multiple orgasms. Forced creampie. Nick is an asshole.

A/N: A lot of this is Zee’s fault. It’s somehow always Zee’s fault. I’m also placing full blame on this, the first of the many phases of the 2022 DILF-ication of our boy. He’s giving Dad™ and I’m giving up!

Excitement and nervousness tangle ferociously in the gaping pit that has opened deep in your belly as the sound of the front door shutting echoes through the house. Your mother is off to run some errands, thus leaving you with only the company of your haughty and moody stepfather, Nick. Though you’ve been waiting for what feels like weeks for this exact circumstance, now that the fantasy has become a reality, you have to admit you’re beginning to feel quite intimidated. 

A recent interaction with the formidable man has left you with an uncharacteristic confidence and an unshakable, stubborn determination to win his affections. At first, you’d doubted your own perception of the events and convinced yourself that you’re slightly delusional. But in the following days — given the heated, tense looks and the subtle touches — you could doubt it no longer: Nick was flirting with you. The idea that he had shown an interest in you lit a fire within you and you’re powerless to deny the desire you feel to garner his attention again. 

You wring your hands in your lap before launching to your feet and pacing restlessly through your bedroom. What if Nick is downstairs, fully aware that you’re practically crawling out of your skin trying to muster the courage to go get what you want from him? No, you’re just overthinking this. There’s no way he knows what you’re planning. Right?

Downstairs, Nick drags a firm hand through his short hair and sighs in annoyance. The constant thumping of your feet overhead is driving him crazy. For 20 minutes he’s listened to you track back and forth, back and forth. He wonders if you plan to stop anytime soon or whether you’re going to carry on until you wear a hole right through the floorboards. He tosses his head back with a grunt, trying to refrain from storming up there to scold you for being such a distraction to his work. 

Your fists clench and release at your sides, the muscles bunching with agitation as you mentally build the fortitude to overcome your apprehension. If you wait any longer, any bravery you’ve amassed is going to ooze and seep from your pores, disappearing as quickly as it came. With a sharp inhale, you check your appearance in the mirror and stride to the door. As swiftly as you move, you make sure to do so without making a sound; tiptoeing down the staircase, you keep in mind how much Nick hates it when you’re too loud. The house is silent and empty, not a single noise to indicate Nick’s location, although you know precisely where you’ll find him.

Even on his days off, Nick spends pretty much all of his time in his office. Being a federal agent is a demanding job to be sure, but Nick takes his job more seriously than most and there’s practically never a moment when he isn’t working. Still bearing in mind Nick’s intolerance for interruption, it takes a minute for you to work up the nerve to rap your knuckles against the door. You remind yourself yet again that you’re being ridiculous. You’re his stepdaughter, surely he won’t be upset with you for wanting to speak with him. At least you hope so.

The moment your knock reverberates off the heavy wooden door, Nick's velvety voice calls out to you and immediately grants you permission to enter. Anxiety grips you once again and you find yourself questioning your own sanity. Maybe you had misread the signs. This is wrong on several levels for many reasons and if you end up having in fact misjudged Nick’s intentions, you’re going to suffer an embarrassment you may never recover from. You shake your head as if to dispel the very thought, then take a deep breath before you twist the knob and ease the door open with a long, low creak.

Inside, you find Nick facing the tall windows behind his desk with his broad back turned towards you. Although he’d been working, you’re surprised to find Nick without his customary crisp dress shirt and dark slacks. Instead, he wears a navy patterned button-down over a gray long-sleeved tee; the outfit is complete with gray pants and a pair of overly-clean sneakers. It’s an odd combination, but you suppose this is his idea of casual attire.

At the sound of the door clicking shut behind you, Nick turns to stare at you over his shoulder. His dark brows are lowered slightly, his expression unreadable but ominous nonetheless. He seems perturbed…then again, he usually does.

Perhaps now is not the most opportune moment for you to make a move on him. The icy pools of his irises scan from your feet to your face, taking in every inch of you before glaring into your eyes. His jaw ticks rhythmically and the hands buried in his pockets rustle quietly before he beckons to you with a growled command to come further into the room.

One corner of Nick’s mouth quirks when your feet instantly begin moving, your steps quick and eager. Something about your desperation to please him has always made his cock swell a bit and today is certainly no different. Your cautious eyes peer up at him through your lashes, blinking dumbly as you stand before him expectantly and your legs subconsciously rub together. The motion catches his attention and his gaze shifts lower to observe the cute dress you’re wearing. 

The outfit is undoubtedly due to a recent compliment he’d given you about a similar garment; you’ve been wearing dresses rather frequently ever since. He wonders if you’re aware of how you attempt to please him even with the most subtle and unconscious choices you make. You don’t even realize how easily you bend to his will.

“Did you need something?” Nick inquires shortly, raising a brow as he observes you across the room, still seemingly hesitant and determined to keep a distance.

You shift your weight, swallowing with some trouble as you try to find your voice. 

“I wanted to see what you were doing.”

You cringe both inwardly and outwardly, realizing how terribly silly the words sound; resembling those of a lonely child, dependent on someone else to quell their boredom. Nick almost appears to smile before his lips press into a firm, thin line. He drops his eyes as he gathers several folders and documents into a pile and taps them against the desk to align them into a neat stack.

“I’m working.” The answer cracks through the air like a whip. “I have a job to do and unfortunately, that doesn’t include babysitting or entertaining you.”

He may as well have slapped you across the face considering the way you visibly flinch at the venomously offered words. Nick’s tone is one you’re familiar with — the glacial and sharp nuance of a man prone to sour moods and bouts of utter impatience. You suppose this is to your benefit; Nick’s obvious annoyance has sapped all your confidence, drawing it from within you like a sponge. Maybe it will save you from inevitable embarrassment after all.

Your lungs deflate along with every hope you had of following through with this thoughtless endeavor. Of course Nick isn’t interested in you, he can barely stand the sight of you most days; he was simply being kind in a rare moment of affection and you’re a fool for making anything more of it. Nick watches you with glee, glorifying in the self-conscious way you smooth your hands over your dress and nibble uncomfortably at your lower lip. He’s got you right where he wants you, and when you turn on your heel — surely to abscond from the room in an exodus of shame — he calls to you.

“Come over here,” he orders with surprising softness. 

It’s impossible to mask your shock as you twirl back in his direction, your skirt swishing gently around your bare thighs. Your eyes lock with Nick’s as a brief battle of wills commences. He clearly expects your obedience and something about that makes you want to stomp away all the more. But you’ve already set this half-assed plan in motion and you may never get another chance to go after what you want. What harm could it do to give in to Nick?

Nick’s handsome face twists into a smirk and something mischievous glows in his light eyes as he watches you approach with caution. Your fingers glide along the polished edge of the desk and you grip the wood as if needing to brace yourself, as if keeping the hefty piece of furniture between the two of you is going to save you from him. You pause a few feet away from Nick, but that’s not good enough for him. With a flick of his eyes to the ground before him, he silently directs you to close the small distance. 

Your feet come to a stop mere inches from Nick’s much larger ones, your bare toes scrunching anxiously against the cool floorboards beneath them. Though Nick continues smiling victoriously down at you, you raise your head defiantly and meet his gaze without hesitation. The confident charade is almost convincing, but when he reaches for you, you crumble instantaneously. 

“You pick this out just for me?” Nick ponders, dragging his fingers over the thin strap that sits snugly against your shoulder.

A snort of laughter escapes him when you smirk shyly and shrug your shoulders noncommittally. Even as your eyes shift to the ground, he can see the blatantly hopeful expression on your pretty face and it almost makes him pity you. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried. Nick tugs at the strap’s stretchy fabric and allows it to snap back against your skin.

“It’s a real pretty dress. I like it,” Nick murmurs, making a point of giving your body a once over. “I like the way you look in it.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and a subtle heat thrums between your thighs. The room suddenly seems to spin as you’re overwhelmed with excitement from just a few simple words. Nick’s admission is all it takes for you to gain back every ounce of confidence you’d come stumbling in here with. You rock forward onto the balls of your feet and boldly place your palms against Nick’s torso, just above his firm abdomen. As your hands glide over the soft material of his shirt and venture towards his chest, you implore your brain to come up with something clever to say.

“What do you like about it?” you ask in your best seductive voice.

Nick would be impressed with your audacity if not for the timid way you refuse to look at him now. Something unrighteous in him gleans great pleasure from seeing you struggle with what you want, with what you’re too afraid to ask for. He knew you’d be easy to manipulate, he just wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. Knowing what a vulnerable spot he’s got you in, he perfectly executes the next step of this iniquitous game of push and pull.

His strong hands wrap firmly around your wrists, the warmth pleasant and favorable until he applies more and more pressure. Nick squeezes your joints with bruising force, tutting at you as if you’ve done something wrong. He uses his grip on your arms to yank you off balance, gathering the limbs in one of his large hands to hold you against his body as he leans close to your ear.

“You want a man’s approval so badly…is that it, little girl?” he taunts with a mean-spirited whisper. “Just crave their attention.”

Shame ignites a fresh wave of heat in your cheeks upon hearing Nick’s cruel response. It isn’t the first time he’s implied that you have a desperate need for acceptance from the men in your life. On occasions when he’s being especially malicious, he’s even gone as far as mentioning that maybe if you were better behaved and more compliant, perhaps your father would not have abandoned you and your poor, innocent mother. Nick knew that particularly savage barb would only make you more malleable to his wishes and it’s a tactic he’s learned to use sparingly though strategically. 

Nick studies you as your wavering fortitude crumbles to bits and your eyes gloss over with an abundance of moisture. He’s elated to see how much his comment has affected you. The more he plants the seed of your need for male attention and acceptance, the greater the benefit he receives from the crop it yields when you continue to prove him right. You’ll do anything just to earn his literal and figurative embrace, which is precisely what he wants.

“Well, you sure know how to get it,” Nick sneers hotly against the shell of your ear, punctuating the insult with a rogue hand sneaking under your short skirt to grip the soft flesh of your ass.

Your voice cracks around a soft moan that is muffled by the fingers buried up to the knuckles in your mouth. No matter how hard you press your tongue against the intrusive digits, Nick merely applies more pressure to the slick muscle, shoving his fingers even further until you audibly gag around them. He keeps you settled in his lap with your head tipped down so your watery eyes remain on him. You can hear the sound of his other hand working furiously around his cock, which is exposed through the fabric of the slacks that hang open around his trim hips.

Saliva coats the length of his fingers and the slender digits slip and slide against one another as he pumps them into your open mouth. A flood of drool dribbles down your chin as your jaw hangs open and a thin stream begins to trickle across Nick’s wrist, running along his sinewy arm and creating a dark splotch on the bunched sleeve of his shirt. You struggle to breathe through your nose with your stepfather’s hand practically stuffed down your throat, gagging until tears spill from your eyes. Nick clicks his tongue, eyebrows furrowed piteously as he slowly drags his whorled fingertips over your taste buds.

You manage to draw in a much-needed breath before sniffling and coughing harshly. Nick’s fingers glide over your lower lip, pulling it down and letting it flop back in place before his thumb sweeps through the moisture on your chin. He collects most of your residual spit on his fingers, then drops his hand to his lap to smear the saliva along the tip of his cock; the reddened flesh already shiny with pre-cum as he switches hands to viciously fuck his wet fist, inadvertently bouncing you in his lap with each jostling movement of his hips.

With the hand previously wrapped around his length, he reaches up to grab your face, his palm still overly warm from the friction. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth puckers and he chuckles at how stupid you look. Stupid and absolutely debauched given the thick splatters of cum that cling to the tip of your nose, your brow, and your cheekbones from when he’d jerked off over your pretty face earlier.

Evidently, Nick hadn’t taken too kindly to being slapped and called an asshole in response to his teasing if the ensuing events were anything to go by. You ended up on your knees, under an onslaught of insults and degradation as Nick pleasured himself above you; being taught a lesson you’d surely not forget. He had every intention of stopping things there before it went too far, but when he saw your hopeful excitement as his cum spilled across your skin and coated your features, something in him snapped. There was no hope of holding himself back from showing you precisely how you could earn a man’s approval.

“Are you my good girl?” Nick rasps as his fingers gather the sticky white remnants from your heated skin.

Your eyes light up as you nod eagerly and he half expects you to start panting with your tongue lolling out like an over-excited puppy. Tapping his knuckles against your mouth, he raises a single brow and you obediently part your lips. He shoves his cum-slathered digits inside and — without even having to be told — you seal your mouth shut around his fingers and suck; your tongue sliding between each one to slurp his seed enthusiastically. When he tries to pull his hand away, you’re quick to wrap both of yours around his wrist, keeping his arm in place so you can lick and suck at his salty skin.

All the while, Nick still pumps his cock rhythmically. The slick friction created by the lubrication of your saliva is rapidly sending him hurtling towards another orgasm. He tips his head back, teeth digging into his lower lip and eyes hooded as his thighs spasm beneath you. You don’t know what comes over you, but you find yourself scooting closer and closer to Nick, fitting your pelvis above his and tilting your hips towards the sizable erection in his hand.

You take his long fingers even deeper until your mouth is stretched painfully around the thick digits and you’re salivating uncontrollably. Each time you whimper and suck harder against his fingers, Nick grunts in response; his abs tightening and rippling under his gray shirt as his orgasm fast approaches. He’s so caught up in imagining how your lips would feel wrapped around him that he misses the way your weight shifts then disappears altogether as you slide off his thighs and drop to the ground between his feet.

The sheer length and girth of Nick’s cock is daunting from this perspective, but you’re determined not to let that deter you. Not when you’re this close to what you were after. Your eyes are locked onto Nick’s strong hand, entranced by the way his tanned fingers tug up and down the smooth skin of his erection. Your mouth waters. 

Licking your lips in anticipation at the sinful sight, it’s torture to watch Nick slide his fist along the thick shaft that bounces only inches from your face and do nothing about it. With yet another uncharacteristic rush of bravery, you lean in and sweep your tongue over a prominent vein that runs the length of Nick’s straining shaft, not caring when his knuckles catch your sensitive lip and pinch it against your teeth. The moment the tip of your tongue makes contact with Nick’s member, his eyes whip open and he curls forward, immediately wrapping a hand around your throat to force you backwards.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, fingers pulsing against the delicate length of your neck as he shakes you slightly then pulls you close enough that the sharp tip of his nose brushes yours.

“Please,” you mewl pathetically, putting on your best puppy dog eyes as you beg.

The wavering, pleading tone of your voice nearly brings him to his knees. Any chance he had of stopping this runaway train before it derails and lands you both in trouble flies out the window. You shatter every remaining bit of his self control with a single whimpered word, although he has no plans of allowing you to maintain that power.

“Did you want something, sweet girl?” Nick coos, the soft and sympathetic tone he uses belying the angry, sinful fire in his crystalline eyes.

He slides his wide palm along your neck until it cradles the back of your head and your stomach flips with excitement, believing that Nick is finally going to allow you to take him into your wanting mouth. You arch forward with cautious eyes, craning your neck until you’re inches from his crotch so there can be no doubt about what you want. Your tongue has barely snuck past your shiny lips before Nick takes himself in hand and slaps the hot flesh of his cock across your cheek.

“Stupid little thing…doesn’t even know how to use her words,” he barks as he drags the weeping tip along your lips, holding fast against your skull so that you cannot possibly get close enough to suck his dick. “So fuckin’ impatient, you could barely even wait for your mother to leave the house. I know you were upstairs creaming those girly little panties just thinking about how you were gonna get your own stepfather to touch you, hmm? Thought you’d flaunt your ass a little so you could get some attention, is that it?”

Through his tirade of humiliating words, you’re still fighting against his grip to get your mouth on him. You don’t even care whether or not his insults are true, the only thing on your mind is tasting him. And besides…he’s the one who flirted with you, otherwise you wouldn’t even be here. You hope your stubborn antics entice Nick…make him appreciate your need to please him. All you can focus on is satisfying him. All you can think about is making him feel good. Isn’t that enough to earn his affection?

When your lips touch Nick’s hand and nearly brush against his length, he shifts one leg and plants the sole of his sneaker squarely against your chest. He extends the limb, his strong calf muscle bunching and bulging beneath his pants as he sends you toppling onto your back. Your elbows knock against the wooden floor with a resounding thud and the air leaves your lungs in a dramatic rush.

“Look at you, you’re pathetic,” Nick observes nastily as he stands from his chair to tower over you. He leans over and grabs your chin firmly, yanking you up onto your knees so that he can slap his cock against your cheek again, then slide the pulsing tip between your lips. “This what you wanted? You wanted daddy in your mouth, huh?”

With your lips stretched wide around his girth and your tongue immobile beneath the weight of his cock, you can only hum in confirmation. The way he speaks to you makes you squirm in the most disgraceful way; a stark reminder of how wrong this is and how dirty you feel behaving this way with your stepfather.

Nick thrusts his hips and his length reaches the back of your throat with such force that tears begin to seep from your eyes. The moan that escapes around the appendage stuffed in your mouth causes Nick to inhale loudly, the air hissing through his perfect teeth as his length twitches against your tongue.

“You look so good down there,” Nick pants with a rare show of genuine praise. “Exactly where you belong…on your knees like a worthless whore, choking on daddy’s fat fucking cock.”

He grows painfully hard as you whine around him and desperately fight to breathe, battling your gag reflex to take every inch of him without choking. You swallow him down in earnest; licking, slurping, and gagging as you do your best to impress the dominant man. Your display of unabashed corruption threatens to make Nick explode then and there, something he has no intention of doing without first being buried deep inside you.

Crouching down, Nick grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back at an extreme angle that forces you to lose your balance and topple over. He comes with you, bracing one hand beside your head as he hovers threateningly over you. When he settles between your legs, his bare cock rubs deliciously against your panty-clad mound and you suck in a breath. The friction is enough to wreak havoc on Nick’s nearly non-existent restraint, but when he glances down, the sight he’s met with makes his head spin: a wetness darkening the crotch of your innocent-looking cotton panties that unleashes something feral in him. 

Nick wedges his huge hands under your armpits and drags you up with him as he stands back up. As dreadfully heavy as his balls are with the need to bury himself in your pussy as soon as possible, he’s not going to fuck you on the floor like some horny, overzealous teenager. The squeak you let out as he drops you heavily on his desk and the plastic cap of a pen digs into the softness of your ass is adorable, but that’s not what Nick is thinking about. His entire attention is focused on shoving the fabric of your dress up and out of his way, the harsh tugging of your clothing making you shoot your hands out behind you in order to remain upright. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look how wet you are,” Nick spits through clenched teeth, scolding you as if you’ve done something offensively wrong.

Now your cheeks are positively melting with a blazing inferno of shame and you turn your head away, too embarrassed to watch the way his eyes focus between your trembling thighs. Nick is breathing laboriously above you, fingers trembling with the need to rip away the thin scrap of material that hides you from him. If he isn’t buried deep within the tight heat of your pussy right now, he fears his head may explode — both of them. He can’t possibly hold back any longer.

You flinch slightly at the first rough contact of Nick’s knuckles brushing your sensitive folds as he yanks your panties to one side. His pupils swallow the remnants of his cold, blue irises at the sound of your breathless gasp and the sight of your soaked cunt. He paws mindlessly at his pants which still hang loosely at his hips, shoving them lower along with his boxers so that his skin is exposed to mid-thigh.

Suddenly you’re panicking while Nick situates himself between your thighs and forces them open to make room for his large body. His cock bobs between you, bouncing dangerously close to your center. Sure, you’ve given this plenty of thought, but it was nothing more than a fantasy; never in your wildest dreams did you imagine it actually becoming a reality.

Though you shuffle awkwardly along the slippery surface of Nick’s desk, he’s quick to latch his large hands around the underside of your thighs as he squeezes the soft flesh and pulls you back to the edge. Your heart skips a beat when he bends at the waist, his lips only inches from your pulsing core. The thought of his mouth devouring and pleasuring you has you panting and quaking, the warm wetness of the saliva he spits forcefully against your pussy has you gulping loudly. Hips wriggling and restless, your mouth suddenly grows dry with unease when Nick stands at his full height and shoves you until you’re forced to take your weight on your elbows while he angles your pelvis up towards him.

Typically, Nick would warm his girl up and at least prepare her a little, but he simply doesn’t have the patience to do that for you. So desperate and ready to take you — to make you take him — after seeing you behave with such depravity. Your eyes widen and your jaw falls slack as his cock sits heavily atop your pubic bone and the silky firmness drags against your own flesh as he fits the bulbous head directly over your throbbing clit. 

The heat of his massive appendage sears you, sending bolts of lightning through every inch of your body as you prepare for the initial discomfort of his length breaching you. You expect Nick to take his time and slowly push into you considering how large he is, but he doesn’t allow you that courtesy. Offering no concern for your pleasure, Nick shifts his hips and inserts the blunt head of his cock into you, though he has no intention of stopping there. He doesn’t think you deserve to be treated with care, he knows you don’t really want to be.

You’re certainly wet enough to ease the entrance of his thick member, however without first stretching you out, your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that he can’t fit more than an inch or two inside. He proceeds without pause, not giving you a moment to adjust and you whine in protest; a sound which Nick takes as beseeching encouragement.

“My needy little girl,” he murmurs. “You wanna be stuffed full…don’t you, baby? Just want someone to love you, poor thing.”

Although the words are cooed softly, they’re teasing, taunting, and heavy with condescension. Ignoring your whimpers of objection, Nick seeks to give you just what he’s accused you of wanting. With several pointed thrusts of his hips, he manages to feed you a few more inches until you’re crying out with the aching pressure between your thighs. He shifts and leans even more of his weight into you, causing you to groan in a way that has him smiling wickedly. He’s decided he’s waited long enough to have you.

Paying no mind to any discomfort or pain it may cause, Nick slams his hips forward and with one swift and fluid motion, he’s bottomed out. The intense burning stretch prompts a howl to part your lips and your head slams into the surface of the desk when your arms can no longer bear your weight. Before you have a chance to recover from Nick’s harsh filling of your tight pussy, he attempts to pull out, your rippling walls making it somewhat difficult for him.

“Tight little snatch doesn’t wanna let me go,” he puffs hotly, strong hands digging fervidly into your waist as he drags his cock slowly from your body.

Unable to handle another forceful drive like the last, you squirm beneath Nick and try to wiggle away from the pulsating dick that rests just within your clenching channel. He merely smirks at your distress and fails to hold back a ridiculing scoff. The hands braced along your torso journey upwards towards your breasts, then under your body where they curl around your shoulders from behind. Nick takes one long inhale before he digs his fingers into your skin and slams your hips into his, forcing your body to accommodate his incredible girth.

Your mouth opens on a silent scream and tears trickle from the corners of your eyes. Though Nick’s brutal treatment is overwhelming, your ears are ringing with how inexplicably good it feels. With your pussy squeezing and oozing around him, you know it won’t take much for you to explode regardless of how rough he’s being with you. The stimulation against your clit from the coarse hairs at the base of his cock as he presses as deep as he possibly can has you clawing your nails into the wood beneath you. Your body shakes uncontrollably and you circle your hips, not sure if you’re trying to escape the sensation or scramble closer to it.

Nick repeats the motion until he’s so deep it hurts and you feel as though your muscles are cramping. The pain and pleasure wash over you in equal and immense waves, rendering you incapable of coherent thought. Your body moves mindlessly when you reach out to brace your palms against Nick’s stomach in a wordless bid for him to back off and the stinging slap across your cheek sends you hurtling right back down to Earth.

His face is worryingly angry now and it makes you want to cower. With nowhere to go, all you can do is mewl helplessly when he yanks one of your thighs around his pelvis and shoves the other leg towards your chest. The position has you completely exposed, your leaking pussy on full display as he splits you open with his cock. A jarring soreness blossoms from where his swollen cock stabs persistently against your tender cervix. Your damp palms slap noisily against the hard surface beneath you as you try to drag your body away in search of some relief.

“You wanted this so bad, don’t run from it now,” Nick hisses, pinning your hips down as he begins to fuck into you savagely. “What did you expect me to do when you came in here batting your eyes and practically dripping on my floors? If you didn’t want daddy to fuck you like a little tramp, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

Nick pounds into you so hard that your tear-filled eyes roll back and you’re moaning in the most unbecoming way. Your throat is dry and raw and you know you’re moments away from what is beginning to feel like the best orgasm you’ve ever had. When your eyes return to their rightful place, they clash with Nick’s and your brows furrow as you’re met with staggering pleasure at the passionate, lustful heat that burns there. 

As he pounds into your sweet, slippery pussy, Nick tries to ignore how your face is crinkled in ecstasy as you watch him with blatant adoration. Admittedly, the pornographic way you’re responding has him hardening noticeably, but that doesn’t matter. Staring into your wide and doting eyes, he doesn’t want you to think he gives a shit about your pleasure. This isn’t special to him.

Crashing a clammy palm against your cheek, Nick forces your head to the side with jolting swiftness. He wrangles your legs while still fucking into you and manages to skillfully flip you over onto your stomach. With your thighs pressed together in this position, Nick feels impossibly large and the sensation of unbearable fullness has drool trickling from your parted lips.

“Please...oh god,” you choke out, the words slurring out from your slack mouth. “I can’t, daddy. It hu—.”

“Hurts?” he barks, cutting you off. “It hurts? Good. That’s good, baby. That’s what you need.”

As your hands scramble for purchase and your upper body slides across the desk with each punishing forward motion of Nick’s hips, you scatter the stack of papers he had so neatly gathered earlier. A sheet clings to your sweaty palm and another slips under your face as you rest your burning cheek against the cool wood. With tears flowing and drool dribbling steadily from your lips, pools of liquid gather and begin to smear the black ink of the presumably important document you lay upon. You shove the paper away from your sticky face and Nick catches sight of the smudged type, slamming a palm down on the ruined document.

“You’re making a fucking mess of my work,” he growls, lifting and then shoving your head so that your skull thunks against the desk. “Maybe I should make a mess of this pretty pussy. Huh? Should I?”

All you can do is whine pitifully in response; you’re too scared of angering Nick further and given the way he pins you in place and buries his cock all the way to the root, you’re utterly mindless. With a sharp slap on your ass and a powerful thrust, you’re finally hit with a rattling orgasm that forces you to lose control of your body. Your arms flail wildly at your sides and your knees shake and buckle as your pussy spasms with release. 

“Nasty slut…creaming all over my cock like that,” Nick grunts, revealing his own wavering control as he grits the words through clenched teeth. “Such a bad, bad girl.”

His words embarrass you and you wonder whether you are a bad person for getting off on this. Tears spill rapidly and you sniffle as you choke back a blubbering cry while Nick still grinds unwaveringly against your backside, fucking you through your orgasm until you grow horribly sensitive. All the while, he continues berating you, shaming you for letting him fuck you and for finding release on your stepfather’s cock.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you stutter pathetically, your broken sobs only fueling Nick’s hunger to destroy you wholly.

Another swift slap halts your warbled words as Nick palms your face and presses it firmly into the desk, forcing your cheek into the puddle of drool you’ve left beneath yourself. You try to squirm out of his hold and away from the cold, slick mess, but he’s relentless and easily keeps you in place. Following a whine of protest, Nick leans in to spit harshly in your face. The hot saliva slips over your nose and lips before joining yours on the desk below.

“Lick it up,” he demands, pressing more intently on the hand braced against your face. 

Your jaw vibrates and lips quiver as you begrudgingly open your mouth and the tip of your tongue peeks out. Nick grows impatient and slaps you once more, prompting you to obey his orders more quickly. He watches with rapt interest as your tongue sweeps through your combined saliva. The obscene sight finally halts his gyrating hips and he tucks his pelvis snugly against your own as he sees you obediently lapping at the puddle.

“That’s it, there you go,” he purrs, his cock retracting with surprising ease until he’s nearly slipped free from your soaked pussy. “Maybe your real daddy would have stayed if he knew what a good girl you can be.”

“Nick, p-please,” you beg as you twirl your hips in search of more friction; seeking out the feeling of him buried back inside you. 

You’re so close and — with all shame long forgotten in the heat of your neediness — you want nothing more than for the man who serves as the only father figure in your life to make you cum. It’s undignified and it’s sinful, but you are far beyond caring. Nick answers your unspoken question with both force and fervor, slamming so deep and hard into your depths that your pussy produces an embarrassingly wet squelch and your juices splash against your thighs and his.

“Guess you couldn’t make him stick around by showing him what a well-trained whore you are, huh? But you had no issue trying that shit on me. Thought that would fill the void, didn’t you? Fucking your own goddamn stepdad,” Nick rambles, growling and mindless as he stuffs and stretches you to your absolute limit. 

His hands claw at your bare shoulders until they both eventually find purchase around your delicate throat. Angling you up, he crushes your smaller form to his firm chest, his hot breath brushing past your over-heated cheeks as he pants rapidly against the shell of your ear. Sweat drips down his forehead and lands on your collarbone before trickling along your cleavage. His warm lips brush your sensitive earlobe when he snarls his next words.

“Tell me…is there anything fatherly about the way I’m giving you this cock?”

The sound that erupts from your chest is that of a wounded animal; distressed and bleating. Seemingly fueled by your agonized noises and the sheer wrongness of his own words, Nick pounds harder into you with a renewed vigor as he brutishly slams your chest forward and pins you against his desk once more. 

He plants his feet beside yours and practically climbs on top of you as something animalistic and carnal blooms within him. Nothing matters to him except the rabid desire to overpower you and fill you full of his seed. The very thought of watching his thick cream drip from your used body has his head spinning and his dick swelling so much you squeal with discomfort. 

Your pelvis bumps painfully into the sharp edge of the desk and though you know the soft flesh will surely bruise, you can’t focus on anything but how full you feel. Before you have a chance to beg Nick for mercy, an oppressive heat begins between your legs and your stomach lurches. 

“F-fuck, I think I’m gonna—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish the statement before Nick is preventing the words from emitting from your lips. He slams a heavy palm over your mouth, fingers digging into your cheekbones as he leans in close.

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care,” he grunts. “Don’t wanna hear you…don’t wanna hear your fuckin’ mouth. Just wanna hear how fucking soaked this pussy is. She wants my cock so fuckin’ bad…just stay still for me and take it.”

He punctuates the notion with several determined thrusts which fill the room with the sound of your wetness and the deplorable smacking of colliding flesh. With your fingers and toes curling along with your arching spine, a blinding orgasm overcomes you. Your legs shake as your core constricts until Nick can barely move, though that doesn’t prevent him from trying. 

Among a litany of loud curses — his voice sharp and strained — Nick fucks into you with harsh but shallow movements; your trapped moans further dampen his sweaty palm as he muffles your pleasured exhalations. His cock spears your sore cunt, every ridge and vein lightning your nerve endings on fire with each drag of the hard flesh. 

A garbled sound claws its way up Nick’s throat and you know what’s about to happen. You try helplessly to shift away and force him to pull out, although when he snatches your wrists and pins them against your lower back with both of his hands, his full body weight laid over top of yours, you know it's of no use.

Every pulse and twitch of his cock has you inching towards another orgasm as each muscle in your own body tremors with exertion. Just when you’re about to tumble over the precipice, Nick ceases moving altogether. All you can do is lie there and take it while Nick explodes with an echoing roar, his engorged cock throbbing as he floods your sopping pussy and drenches your womb with ropes of his hot cum. You begin to writhe beneath him, uttering a hoarse whine that quickly morphs into a cry of desperation. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, almost in tears.

He continues releasing into your pliant body, a shudder coursing through him as his cock jerks, still buried balls deep in your messy cunt. You manage to free your wrists from Nick’s grip, but he refuses to let you up. Even picking up on the distant sound of the front door opening then rattling shut, he won’t move. Your blood runs cold when you hear your mother’s swift approach, her keys jingling loudly with every determined step. 

A sigh of relief escapes you once she passes and detours towards the kitchen, however that moment of calmness is short-lived as Nick ruts insistently against you. Although his cock softens within your silken walls, it remains swollen enough to stimulate you with every pump of his hips. Your peep of surprise prompts his over-sensitive cock to jump and he grinds into you with purpose. He swore not to care about your pleasure, but he longs to watch you fall apart for a third time. He needs you to cum for him again.

“Better be quiet, little girl,” Nick warns, curling over you and inserting three long fingers into the moist recess of your mouth as he humps weakly against you. “Unless you want your mother to come in here and find you…see you being used like a sloppy whore by your stepdaddy. I don’t think she’d be very proud knowing what a slut she raised.”

Nick’s vicious words send a burst of ashamed heat racing through your whole body, although the burning sensation only seems to gather directly between your slick thighs. Your clit pulses with every harshly spoken syllable and that combined with the hot, sticky stimulation from his half-hard cock — lazily fucking your cum-filled pussy and rubbing you just right — sends you over the edge.

Without warning, your entire body stiffens and you do your best to subdue your pleasured groan as you suck the digits stuffed between your lips. Your cunt is aching and tender, but still manages to ripple and clench so forcefully around Nick’s length that he slides right out of you; a warm rush of your juices and his abundant cum pouring out in thick rivulets which collect messily in his pubic hair and drip to the floor between your bare feet. 

Before you truly have an opportunity to revel in your release, Nick is interrupting the euphoric moment by yanking you upright and spinning you round to face him. You tip your head up to meet his chilly stare, struggling to focus your bleary eyes on his attractive face. A face which displays none of the discomposure you feel in your current frazzled and fucked-out state. Nick smiles in a way that makes your skin crawl, the sight of his gleaming white teeth more predatory than affectionate or comforting.

“Get on your knees. Suck me clean,” he utters with false patience, the infernal spark in his eyes simply daring you to say no.

Gulping audibly, you grip the edge of the desk to stabilize yourself as you drop to the hard floor with shaky legs. Your knees settle uncomfortably on the unforgiving wood and the musky scent of sweat and sex surrounds you. Nick studies you unflinchingly, his eyes boring into you as you observe his flaccid cock, still smeared with your combined fluids.

As you lean forward, you swear you can hear Nick gasp shakily. For once, you feel as though you have the upper-hand. You move with calculated delay as you walk the tips of your fingers up his muscular thighs before wrapping them around the waistband of the disheveled pants that hang loosely from his hips. Another tense moment passes. You can feel him growing impatient and choose not to push your luck. You want to be good for him, after all.

The flavor that assaults your taste buds as your tongue flicks out to tentatively lick the soft flesh presented to you has you eagerly wrapping your lips around the head of Nick’s cock. He groans at the wet heat of your mouth and you groan at the balmy, silky weight of his length against your tongue. You suck gently, admiring the way you taste together; Nick’s sweat and cum are salty and potent, your own juices more subtle and sweet. The perfect amalgamation; mingling in a heady and complimentary mixture, but each distinct in their own way. 

You can’t get enough and you engulf Nick with your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you suckle determinedly. His cock feels heavy and strange in its lax state, but you swallow him skillfully nevertheless. The pulsing suction of your greedy mouth prompts Nick to plant both of his hands around the back of your skull and pull you forward until your face is buried in the thatch of hair at the root of his length and cum smears along the bridge of your nose and your cheek. 

“Such a sweet thing,” he murmurs, his words encouraging you to bathe him in your saliva until all that remains is the untainted taste of his flesh.

When your swirling tongue brushes the delicate skin of Nick’s now-empty balls, he yanks your mouth away; his cock twitches at the thought of you slurping obediently there and he knows just how risky that will be with your mother and his wife merely a room away. Instead, he hastily shoves himself back into his boxers, fixes his pants, and plops into the previously vacated leather chair. He adjusts the bunched sleeves of his tee and smooths his hands over the open lapels of his shirt. You remain perched on your knees — disheveled and expectant, your dress a wrinkled mess — awaiting some sort of acknowledgement from your stepfather. 

Nick leans his elbows on the surface of his desk and begins to rifle through the stack of confidential papers he’d fucked you over, annoyed at the stains of sweat, spit, and tears. He returns to his work like you’re not even there. Your stomach drops and your eyes mist over with a sting of disappointment. Though you know it is childish to have expected him to praise you or hold you after — not to mention dangerous if you hope to protect the secret you now share — you can’t help the hope you have for him to at least say something to you. Rather, he proceeds as if nothing has happened between you.

“I have work to do,” Nick informs you coldly, not even sparing a single glance in your direction. “You should go get cleaned up.”

Seeing no movement from you, Nick finally offers his attention. The emptiness in his blue eyes makes you shudder and the way he curls his lip in what can only be described as disgust finally prompts the tears gathering in your eyes to spill forth. Of course you were stupid to expect any sort of affection or appreciation from the wicked man. He’s acting as if nothing has happened because it hasn’t…not for him anyway. You were nothing more than a fuck to him. A hole. A means to find release.

With that in mind, you rise clumsily to your feet and scurry with haste towards the door. Deep down, you’re still hoping for Nick to call out to you, to say something that will let you know this interaction meant anything to him the way it had for you. But the silence you’re met with hurts more than any of the nasty, insulting things he’d said to you earlier. 

The skin of your thighs sticks together as you make your exit, a cruel reminder of how callously your stepfather has used you. You swipe agitatedly at your face, smearing your tears and the drying cum from your skin. Though you fight to bury the sobs that bubble up from deep in your chest, one sad and strangled sound escapes you. And it makes Nick smile when he hears; satisfied with his efforts, knowing he has you right where he wants you yet again.

Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

[beardrabbles]

invitation.

characters: GN!reader, claude, mentions of GN!byleth

warnings: none

word count: 2,814

notes: posted this on ao3 ages ago and totally forgot to post it here too :’) got into the fandom late, like alwaaaays! but i have an enormous claude / golden deer bias and wanted to write some fluff with him.

You forgot sometimes that this peaceful spot tucked between the trees wasn’t yours alone. You shared it with another from time to time, but it had been so long since the last time you both stepped foot in the clearing that it startled you to hear footfalls crunching at the grass behind you. Pushing yourself up halfway, eyes blinking blearily, you spotted the richly dressed prince with his hands planted on his hips.

“Napping without me?” Claude clicked his tongue, and you quickly replied with a roll of your eyes.

“I can’t nap here on my own?” You fell back again, letting the soft grass cushion you. A soft, content sigh escaped through your nose as the sweetest of breezes barely brushed your skin. It smelled of flowers and damp leaves, dense soil and a distant storm. There was no zing of hot iron or blood, and it was a relief.

“I thought it was our thing.  .  .”

You felt him sit beside you, taking up his usual position to your left. The tiniest flutter tickled the inside of your ribs, his nearness nearly making your head spin. “Before I came along, it was just your thing, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better this way.” Claude leaned back on his hands, eyes up towards the greying sky. It had taken fighting a war to bring back their usual glimmer, but it was there in full. Bright, hopeful, determined. Laying there, gazing up at the unsuspecting prince, it was almost as if you were looking at the man from five years ago — the cunning, clever and sometimes troublesome man that you had fallen head-over-heels for and had continued to painfully pine for.

“Me too.” You dared to smile, his gaze shifting to you. Adoring him hurt, but no amount of hurt would have you appreciating his presence any less.

Claude returned the smile, and the gesture sent your heart slamming against your chest. But just as quickly as it came, the smile faded. “I spoke to Byleth.”

You sat up in an instant, concern etched into your face. You were aware that he had gone to meet them, but he had failed to tell you why. You equally failed to push the subject, as it wasn’t your place to disrespect a man in his position. Curious as you might have been, you assumed it was best not to ask and only hope that he trusted you enough to confide in you later. Seemed you were right, though you acknowledged to yourself that it was a rare thing.

“How did it go?”

“They’re disappointed I won’t be here for the coronation. I can’t blame them. After everything we’ve been through together, I should be here for them. I want to hope they understands. They always have.” He exhaled sharply. “But, hey, I got to see them smile again! I think as long as they’re here, Fódlan will be in good hands. If they keeps smiling, if they keep breaking down the walls that were built up, I can go home and do my part there. I trust them.”

You shifted, feeling uncomfortable in your envy.

“So they’re not coming with you to Almyra?” You wondered. Claude shook his head.

“No, and I didn’t want to ask. Fódlan needs to be taken care of. It needs a parent that will hold its hand and lead it in the right direction. It’s gonna stumble around like an infant walking for the first time, but that’s why they’re the best person to lead. They’ll know what to say and do to help this little baby along.”

You screwed up your face and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You really like talking about babies.” You pointed out. Claude’s cheeks and the tips of his ears darkened a fraction, but he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle.

“I guess I do. I wonder why that is.” He trailed off, voice soft but nowhere near as confused as his words would have lead you to believe. You had long ago resigned yourself to never truly understanding him, so you shrugged. Trying to pick through his mind was like attempting a hedge maze without a map.

“Does that mean you’re going to be heading back soon?”

“I can’t stay for long. There’s so much I need to do if I’m going to see things through, but there’s something important I need to do here before I can go home.” There was sharpness to his eyes that you recognized and deeply adored. He was planning something, and you felt your curiosity rise again.

“What is it? Can I help?” You were always so quick to offer him aid. Usually, he gently denied it, stating time and time again that most of his schemes were for his mind alone. Things often worked out for the better that way. The fewer people that knew, the less chance they could commandeer the plan or ruin it. Yet you still asked just in case he needed you.

“Maybe. Before that, can I ask you something?”

You frowned. “Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“You’ve been saying that since we met. Is it really true?” Claude smirked and raised a single brow, only for you to shove him harmlessly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You eyed him for a moment, worry mounting. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

The prince shook his head, as if he were getting off track. “No. I wanted to know where you plan to go. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh! Oh.” You frowned when the sudden realization that you had no plans slammed into you. “I don’t.  .  . know. I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy supporting everyone else, doing what I can for them, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyone’s grown up. They’re all doing their own thing, starting their own lives. No one needs me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Claude’s voice was firm in your ear, and his expression was set to match. You smiled meekly.

“I grew up with all of you, but it felt like my purpose was to help you all find yours. Not that I really think I’m capable of being that helpful, but I never took the time to think about myself. I was too worried about you all reaching your dreams that I didn’t have one. I don’t have one.” You amended the last part quickly because it was blatantly clear to you that you had no direction to go in.

“There has to be something you want.” Claude pushed. You laughed.

“At the risk of repeating myself, I want what you want. I want you to succeed.” You opened your mouth again, but were quick to clamp them shut when another thought arose. I want to be with you.

It was lovely to imagine, but you had lived with the fact that any future with him was left solely to your imagination. You met him as an heir, and you knew him now as a prince. The differences in your status was vast and hard to ignore. Claude had his mind set on making those differences unimportant, but you doubted that he could find room in his heart for you. He had a country to take care of and love, not to mention you two had been friends since the start of your time at the academy. Too much time had passed since then, and while your feelings had grown deeper and more troublesome, you were sure he had none to begin with. No, as students, he had been too preoccupied with tormenting you. Teasing, poking, taking up your time with nonsense and rarely giving you a moment to yourself.

Despite him being a brat at times, you loved him. And even if he didn’t reciprocate, you were grateful to have known him at all.

“So you’re not bound to Fódlan?” His voice shook you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“Do you have any obligations here in Fódlan?” His gaze was so intently set on you that it made you squirm, the feeling ten times worse since coming out of your own head.

“No, not that I can think of.” You couldn’t recall making any promises.

“Right, so you could leave.” Claude hummed thoughtfully and got to his feet. Once upright, he dusted the grass from his clothes and offered you a hand. Confused, you took it and let him pull you into standing.

“I guess I could, but where would I even go? I don’t know anyone outside of Fódlan.” You felt something subtle was being said, you couldn’t catch on. Some days, you could. You had learned him just as he had learned you, but he was always several steps ahead. You could read him, but only the pages he allowed you to see. In this case, the pages were written on, but only in bits and pieces.

Claude gave you a pointed stare and a gentle, encouraging squeeze to your hand. When you failed to understand, he raised both eyebrows and pointed to himself. No words were needed. His gestures and odd line of questioning were like a clarifying slap to the face. You reeled, giving him a wide-eyed stare while sputtering idiotically.

“Wh——”

“That took you while. I was starting to worry I’d have to spell it out for you.” Claude put on a convincing pout. “Unless this is your weird way of telling me you don’t want to come with me.”

“No!” You leaped too soon, your eagerness prompting a smirk on the prince’s face. You fell silent again, worried that saying anything more might reveal all of what you had been trying to hide for over five years. “I’m not saying that.”

“What are you saying?” He purred cunningly, hand still holding tightly to yours. You didn’t resist when he to eased you closer, your heart screaming in your chest. Cheeks red and breaths shallow, you could hardly think. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

I’m still napping, and this is just another stupid dream.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Vague.”

“Ah-ah,” chided the cheeky man, “you’ll have to address me as Prince Vague now.”

You scoffed and gave him another shove. When your hand pressed to his shoulder, he trapped it there with his own. Even closer now, Claude lowered his head until your noses nearly touched. You sucked in a breath and found yourself unable to move away, attention trapped in his bright, beautiful eyes.

“You want to know what I’m asking you?” He lowered his voice, tone growing tender and warm. You nodded. “I’m asking if you’ll come home with me. I want you to meet my parents and my people, and I want them to meet you. I want them to love you as much as——”

He choked for a moment, a rare flicker of pure emotion startling him.

“As much as what?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Claude calmed himself with a shaky breath and tilted his chin down, lips barely ghosting the curve of your cheek. His eyes fluttered half closed, while a single lock of his dark hair tickled at your cheek. When you didn’t shy away, he spoke again in honeyed tones. “I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“You can’t mean that.” Your entire being felt numb with glee, but you couldn’t process his confession without a little doubt. He met your doubt with a chuckle, so you persisted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you felt the compulsion to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. You had done so many times before, letting the gentle touches calm him during his bad days, but there was new meaning behind it now. There was an honest love behind it as your dragged your fingers through the strands, pushing them back and away from his darling face.

“There were so many others.  .  .” So many people wanted his attention, his affection. You were but one in a thousand that longed for him.

“I didn’t care. I dreamed of many futures, and all of the best ones had you standing there beside me.” He muttered into you, the softest of kisses resting just under your eye.

“We argued so much.” You shuddered, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“You kept me grounded. How can anyone expect to be a decent ruler if they’re always agreed with?” He countered. You huffed and tried to think of another argument.

“You used to tease me all the time.” You muttered.

“I’ll admit that was dumb of me, but it felt like the only way to get your attention.” His lips found the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t contain a snicker. “You looked so cute when you were embarrassed, especially when you wrinkled your nose. I couldn’t help it.”

“Why do I feel like you still can’t help it?” You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and let your fingers follow the path of his facial hair. He was putty in your hands, cheek pressing to your hand.

“It’s part of my charm.” Claude flashed his usual smile, then took a step back. The lack of closeness left you feeling a little colder, but the distance let you appreciate him fully. Tall, handsome, commanding. You were exceedingly proud of him, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again. But before you could think to speak, he started again. “You don’t have to answer me right away. I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you the time you need. I’m leaving in two days. Meet me at the——”

You didn’t allow him to finish. Your heart was too full and on the verge of bursting, and it seemed silly to you that he didn’t know what your answer would be when he was so skilled at predicting you. Rather than let him wonder, you removed your hands from his and took his face between them. You gathered your courage, mustered with his help, and pulled him down for a soft but silencing kiss.

Claude wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he supposed he didn’t mind being put in his place if it meant your lips fitting against his as perfectly as they did. Unfortunately for him and the heat radiating throughout him, you didn’t let the kiss last long. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and crush you against his chest like he’d long to for years, but you parted from him too soon for his liking.

“Where are you going?” He took chase, but you placed your hand over his mouth. Claude stilled and arched a brow.

“I’ve had my answer for years, Claude. I’m with you in every possible way. But if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?” You uncovered his mouth, but his silence told you more than words would. “How long have you, uh.  .  .”

“Cared for you? Admired you? Wanted to kiss you the way you just kissed me?” Every question he posed in response to yours made your heart thud and your cheeks burn. “A long, long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was never given the chance.” He answered so surely that you wondered if he had those words prepared. You couldn’t pester him about it — too many things had gone horribly wrong during your time at the academy, and it didn’t make sense to plant seeds in dead soil. There would have been no guarantee that it would bloom and flourish, but with the land starting a slow recovery, you hoped that what you two started here would become lusher and more far-reaching than any forest in Fódlan.

“It’s alright.” You giggled giddily and granted him another kiss, this one to the corner of his lips. “We were given our chance, and you took it.”

“Does that mean you’re going home with me?” He asked.

“I told you——”

“I want to hear you say the words.” Claude softly pleaded. Weak for his doe eyes, you melted in his arms and relented.

“I’m going home with you, Claude. I want to meet your parents, and I want to get to know your people. And for as long as I’m there, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to get to know you better.”

A soft sigh tinged with relief escaped the man as his head came to rest on your shoulder. His grasp on you tightened, and you felt his heart beat against your chest.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and embraced him. “Don’t thank me. Just take me home.  .  .”

[miss-smutty]

hii i just discovered ur blog and whew wow- tumblr is severely lacking some daddy hemsworth fics so tyyy

idk if your taking requests rn but could i please request something with thor or chris where he’s had a rough day at work or something and is very angry so he’s really rough in bed with you that evening and you love it! also could it include lots of dom!thor/chris and dirty talk bc that’s my weakness

tyyy if u do this sorry if it was too detailed idk ive never sent a request lol but ty hunny <3

So first of all thank you @mysticbonkoperavoid , I'm so glad you like my fics ❤️

And secondly thank you so much for your amazing request, I literally got lost in this filth 🥵🥵 I hope you like it 😘

A/N- This is just pure filth, so consider yourself warned 😂🥵🥵 strictly 18+ only. Dom!Thor literally had me ✨ clenching ✨

Summary- Thor's had a tough day and nothing you do is helping until you let him take out his frustration on you and become his little slut.

Word count- 3,243 of pure filth

Pairing- Thor x reader

Warnings- Smut, filth, dirty talk, rough sex, swearing

18+ only!!!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud

Posted: 22nd Feb 2021

⚡A Push Too Far ⚡

Thor had come home from a mission in a foul mood, you'd tried everything to cheer him up. You'd made him his favourite snack, put on his favourite show and even massaged his big, worn out feet. Nothing was working and you were exhausted with the effort. You selfishly couldn't stand the negative atmosphere and just wanted to know how to make him feel better. If he wouldn't tell you what was wrong how could you help? You were so used to him being overly enthusiastic about everything and hated when he was in one of these moods. Something pretty bad must've happened to dampen his mood this much.

"Just tell me what's wrong and I can help" You huff.

"Will you please just forget it? I don't want to talk about it" Thor said, pushing you off gently when you try to touch him. 

"I want to know what's happened to put you in such a sulky mood." You said teasing him, trying to get his attention. If you couldn't get him to talk to you then you would just have to help him take his frustration out in the best way he knows how.

"Please Y/N, stop talking about it" He says exasperated, you're pushing the last of his nerves and you know it. It's exactly what you want, you know what he's capable of when he's angry.

"Make me." You say, seeing the switch in his eyes as his jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his neck straining against the skin. You backed away from him slowly, knowing all too well what was coming.

The ground shook around you as bolts of lightning flew from Thor and his eyes glowed brightly making you shield your own eyes from the sudden glare. Immediately knowing you'd pushed him too far. You were frightened but more than that you were massively turned on, your pussy clenching with ferocity. You knew he'd never hurt you, well never more than you could handle but still, angry Thor was a feast for the eyes. Delicious.

"You better shut that pretty little mouth of yours before I put it to work" He bellowed, his eyes still glowing and his jaw clenched together tightly.

"Is that a promise?" You say under your breath, watching Thor through your eyelashes as he towered over you.

"On your knees" He commanded, with the power of a God, making you weak as his voice rebounded from the walls of the large, almost empty room with a dramatically high ceiling. 

"But..." You start before he cuts you off.

"Did I stutter? do as you're told" He urged, looking down at your petite frame before him. His powerful demeanor making you do exactly as you were told. Looking up at him with innocent eyes as you knelt on the hard, wooden floor.

He circled around you, like a wolf and his prey, taking in the sight of you kneeling like a victim. Purposefully not touching you, the anticipation of when he would strike making you hold your breath. Your panties are already soaking wet and the buldge in his pants is straining against his trousers.

Thor moves to stand in front of you, his legs planted a foot width apart while he gazes down at you, a slow, wicked smile appearing on his lips. Tortuously, slowly unzipping his trousers and pulling out his lofty length, gripping it firmly with his two hands.

"I think that pretty little face deserves to be fucked" oh fuck, Thor, now you're talking. Now was your turn to smile devishly at Thor, ready and waiting for him to feed your slutty little mouth with his fat cock.

He disappears behind you, you try to turn around to follow him with your eyes but he grabs your hair, pulling you back. It made you ache but not your head, it made your pussy ache. 

"Don't move" He whispers into your ear, still pulling your hair back so you're looking up at him. Pulling a hair tie from his wrist and wrapping it around your hair at the nape of your neck. Wait a minute, where did he get that from? It dawns on you that he's had this planned since the minute he'd got home, the only way he knows how to take his frustration out. Probably knowing you wouldn't be able to take his silent treatment and push him too far in the end anyway. Oh you sneaky man, Thor. 

It feels like a painstakingly long time before he's finally back in front of you, his trousers and boxers now discarded on the floor behind you. Taking in the sight of his thick, muscly thighs and his long, thick cock have you licking your pouty lips. You want to reach up and pull his t-shirt off too but he grabs hold of your wrists as they snake their way up his torso. 

"Ah ah ah, are you going to be good? or am I going to have to tie you up?” He asks in a gruff tone making you put out your bottom lip as you sit back on to your ankles. Your knees beginning to ache from the hard floorboards.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, watching you whince with a satisfied look on his face "Do you want a cushion?" He says in a teasing voice while you nod your head with pleading eyes.

"What do you say?" Bending to pick up the cushion from the couch and holding it out of arms reach, smiling sinfully.

"Please" You say sweetly, more than happy to play his game. Your whole body aching with need. At last he pulls his t-shirt over his head, his biceps flexing as he does, your heart racing at the sight of his ravishing nakedness. That perfect body is all yours.

"Strip" he says seductively looking you up and down, throwing the cushion on the floor by your knees and pulling you up and against his rock hard cock. A squeel emits from your mouth, his hands gripping your cheeks firmly.

You look at him for a second, dumbfounded. You're used to him taking the lead and ripping your clothes off in a heated frenzy, this is new.

Elated with the fact he's allowing you to give him a show for once, you drape the straps of your dress over your shoulder, pushing him down on the couch with a hard shove to the chest. Watching that slow smile spread on his lips and his cock bounce, satisfyingly, with the impact.

Pulling the dress down to your feet and stepping out of it, standing proudly in your lacey underwear. Cocking your eyebrow at him as you hook your thumbs into the side of your panties, pulling them down a fraction. You stop to move closer to him, reaching your hands out to touch his bare skin.

"No touching or I swear I'll tie your hands" He says nonchalantly, his eyes hungry with lust, you pout at him, disappointed you can't touch him.

He watches you intensely as you finish taking off your panties and bra, holding in a giggle when you throw them at him and they hit him square in the face.

"You smell, delicious" He surprises you when he licks his lips, no hint of a smile on his face just that deep intense glare of a predator. The word 'delicious' rolls of his tongue, delectably. The way he stares into your soul, taking in every inch of your nude body, makes your stomach clench, your pussy dripping with arousal.

"Now back on your knees" He says, standing back Infront of you, his cock eye level.

Grabbing your ponytail with one hand and guiding his cock to your mouth with his other. You open your mouth instinctively, widely, like the good little slut you are.

Thor takes no prisoners and rams his cock deep into your mouth, making you gag instantly. Your lips wrap around his cock, the length and thickness filling you up. He yanks your hair backwards so your looking into his eyes while he slams his cock in and out of your mouth.

"Look me in the eyes while you take my cock" oh for the love of God... and Thunder. your pussy is dripping, aching for it. "Good girl" 

He pushes your head down on his cock, as far as you can go. You can feel the tip hitting your tonsils and the shaft throbbing in your mouth. You're gagging, spit dribbling down your chin in a disgusting manner. Your eyes brimming with tears as he rams his cock to the back of your throat. 

"Choke on it" he groans, his head hanging back. You feel the confidence to reach out and cup his balls, knowing he wouldn't chastise you when he's too consumed in the ecstasy of your lips and tongue wrapping around his cock.

"Is that better? Are you satisfied now you've got my full attention?" He looks down at you, a deep hunger in his eyes. You were nowhere near satisfied yet, not until you felt his cock stretching your walls but you couldn't tell him that, he'd just tease you for even longer.

"Mmm" you mumble around the length of his dick.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" he scolds huskily, his voice filled with lust.

You hold onto his firm cheeks while you suck his dick, letting your tongue do the work, running over the full length and teasing the tip. Sucking on the tip, hard, while you grip the base with your hand. You can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, amazed with how hard he is. You know he's struggling with restraining himself, just as much as you, he'll just never admit it. 

Thor lets out a deep growl, thrusting his dick into your mouth one last time before sharply pulling out with a pop. You were actually upset he'd stopped you, you were enjoying sucking his fat dick. He pulls you up to stand before grabbing your cheeks in his hands and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him.

You want to kiss him so bad. You hang on to him as he pushes you back against the wall, hard enough to leave a bruise. The feel of his cock thrusting against you has you mewling as he bites hard on your neck. Shivers travel through your entire body, finally feeling his lips against your skin and the thrill of his teeth biting against your neck. The fine line between pain and pleasure being well and truly explored.

You're lost in the feel of his teeth against your skin and muscle, moaning loudly, you barely notice when he sets your feet back onto the ground. Sucking loudly on your neck, your head hanging to the side giving yourself to him freely.

"Im gunna leave marks all over your skin so everybody knows you're mine." He says breathlessly against your skin, his breathe tickling your neck making your hair stand on end, your pussy clenching, agonisingly.

Thor pushes his forearm against your throat so you're locked in between him and the wall, no where to go. Staring into your eyes, making you blush as he pushes two fingers into your mouth without warning.

"Suck" he commands, his voice gruff and deep, oozing authority. You know his fingers are going to delve into you and you can't wait, sucking eagerly on his legthy, stocky fingers.

Before you have time to draw breath, he thrusts his fingers into your opening. Immediately curling them around to find your G-spot. Satisfaction plastered on his face when he hears your moaning, knowing he's got you right where he wants you. 

"You love this, don’t you? Let me hear how much you love it.” He whispers into your ear, his arm still pushing against your throat. You can barely take anymore, his sultry words and his thick fingers making your head spin. Nothing else in the world matters right at this moment, he fills you with narcotic desire. Like a drug to you, you can't get enough, always wondering when you'll get your next fix. If you could get away with making him lose his temper on a daily basis, just so could feel this amount of pleasure, you would.

You moan for him obscenely, you're eyes pooling with desire and hunger. His fingers repeatedly hitting your spot, harshly, bringing you over the edge. Your mouth hangs open, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your pussy clenches around his fingers.

"Does that feel good" he asks captivatingly, holding is arm against your throat and fucking you with his fingers.

"Amazing" You say breathless, the huskiness of your voice surprising you. His face is so close to yours and your senses so hightened that his masculine scent hits your nostrils. His otherworldly fragrance. The smell you long for on those long nights he's away. It hits you and you're consumed by it, your legs starting to shake as your mind loses control. The orgasm rushing from your core.

Then it's gone, just like that. You open your eyes, noticing they're about to burst with tears. You were so close!

"I don't care how good it feels, don't you dare come yet" he says venomously, you honestly feel like your about to start crying. The build up was so intense and then it was just gone and you still feel that deep need. Thor is looking pleased with himself and if you weren't so turned on by the look on his face, you would've slapped him straight across it. Cocky shit! 

You were about to protest, but he saved you from the punishment when he stuck his fingers into your mouth again. Your slickness coated all over them.

"Now see how good you taste, how wet I make you" you looked him in the eyes resentfully and for just a moment you saw his eyes soften. Only a moment before they're filled with fire once more and he's pulling you to the bedroom across the room. Still fighting the urge to finally have his way with you, taking his precious time to tease you beyond your limits. To show you who's the boss around here. As if you ever had any doubts.

Throwing you onto the bed and pushing your knees open with force. You can feel your pussy throbbing with anticipation knowing it's not long until he finally gives you what you've been craving from the start.

Thor effortlessly clamps both of your wrists above your head in a vice like grip with his big, manly hands, leaving you writhing, like his prey, on the bed below him. You breathe a sigh of relief when he finally reaches down to kiss your lips, biting on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Keep your hands here" Emphasising 'here' with a squeeze of your wrists. You try to stay perfectly still while he moves down your body, straining your neck to watch what he does next.

“What a perfect sight, you, all spread out for me to do whatever I want to” he says, positioning himself in-between your legs. Seeing you in all your glory, your pussy dripping wet making him lick his lips.

You gasp when his lips latch on to your inner thigh, so sensitive to his touch. Biting and sucking all the way down each thigh, your going to be covered in hickies come tomorrow morning. You know that's his plan, he loves to see the remnants of the night befores dirty sessions. Even if no one else can see them, he knows they're there, a reminder that you're his.

"Just marking my territory" he reminds you, confirming your suspicions.

"I know exactly what you're doing" you say through gritted teeth, the pain and pleasure unbearable.

"Let’s find out how much you can take before you're begging me for my cock.”

All you can do is nod your head while you bite down on your bottom lip, afraid how shaky your voice will be if you try to speak. 

The sudden slap to your pussy makes you shout out, completely unexpected but hot as fuck all the same, sending shockwaves throughout your whole body.

"You like that?" He slaps you again, hitting your clit with his fingertips and making you convulse uncontrollably. You can see the restraint on Thor's face, the vein protruding from his neck and the tightness in his jaw are the tell tale signs. You know he's about to burst.

"I love to see you squirm now I want to hear you moan" he grabs onto your hips and turns you over, pulling you on to your knees. His movements getting sloppy and desperate now, the lust taking over him.

You inhale as Thor presses the tip of his cock to your opening, brushing it up and down and gathering your wetness. Your legs threaten to give way as he teases you with his cock, you can't stop yourself from pushing yourself back onto him.

"Do you think you deserve my cock?" his voice was heavy with desire. 

"Yes, Thor... Please" you plead, more than worthy after the torture he's put you through.

Thor eases himself in gradually, while you push yourself backwards, no more patience left in you. Holding on to your hips and exhaling, the satisfaction of finally feeling your walls clamping around him. You whince as he slams himself into you with full force, his balls slapping against you. The sounds of sex filling your ears in a glorious way.

"You won't... be able... to walk... after I'm done... with you" he says between every thrust, knocking you forward with every slam. Your orgasm is building already, you can feel your walls tightening, trying to push him out as he holds on to your hips relentlessly.

He grips hold of your ponytail, yanking it backwards, so your head is as far back as it can go, your neck straining. He squats above you, dipping his dick into you, so deep you can feel it in your stomach. This position is fucking everything, he knows you're about to come and sends a slight electrical charge straight through your core just as you release around him. It feels fucking amazing! 

Thor reaches forward and hooks his finger into your mouth, pulling your cheek back as he continually pounds into you. Orgasm after orgasm gushing all over his cock, dribbling out of your aching pussy until you're kneeling in a puddle of your arousal. Your screaming his name, your pussy throbbing, squeezing against his cock. You know he's struggling to restrain when he inhales sharply.

"Dirty fucking slut" he says venomously.

"You fucking love it don't you?" His voice is breathless and deep, you can't take much more. The power of your come is pushing him out, making you ridiculously tight. You can feel his cock twinging as his powerful come shoots into you, he roars so loudly the bed shakes around you. You finally collapse into the bed head first, your knees giving way as he rests against you with his cock still inside of you, twitching and convulsing.

"Are you ok, baby?" Thor asks sweetly, his frustration finally dissipated, rubbing your ass cheeks tenderly.

"More than ok" you say breathless and tired, rolling over onto your back underneath him and pulling him down on to you.

Finally his lips are on yours, passionately, forcing your mouth open and stroking your tongue with his. Kissing you like his life depended on it, making up for the hours spent without the feel of your lips on his. A deep feeling of satisfaction washed over you, he's yours and you're his and you can fuck like animals but still collapse into each other arms lovingly afterwards.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" You tease, making him laugh a great big belly laugh as he pulls you over on top of him.

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?��� You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[writer-panda]

Hit on the groom and what became of it - chapter 1/I will keep missing you (if you don’t stop running)

Disclaimer: I don’t own DC or Miraculous. I’m just playing with some crazy concept. 

Chapter 1 (here)  -|-  Next

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

Ladybug landed on top of the Eiffel tower with practiced grace. An agitated worry roiling in her chest about the message Chat Noir left her. The urgency was one thing, but he sounded… pained. Like the weight of the world dragged him down type pain. 

Marinette knew Chat’s home life wasn’t perfect. Skilled at hiding it, maybe, but details leaked through the cracks. An offhand comment here, a muttered accusation there, a sour face yet again here. He lived in pain and tried so hard to work through it. 

She tried to help him whenever she could, both as Ladybug and Marinette. She may not return his feelings, but she always listened. For months during their third year as heroes, she left food on the rooftop when Chat’s suit revealed too many ribs. She wasn’t sure the reason and didn’t dare to ask, lest she learned too much, but she did try to help. There were times she thought she imagined the pained looks, and thin frame, and thinly veiled comments; maybe overexaggerating the situation in her mind, as she often did. After all, he always acted so cheerfully.

Then, Lila happened. 

The first strike landed swift, almost deadly, but she survived. It was what followed that made her reconsider. A prolonged fight, where Marinette chose to retain a cheerful mask to hide the pain. Along the line, she considered confiding in her parents. But what could they do?  Maybe take her from school, but that would mean Lila already won; the Liar would rule unopposed.

Which left Adrien, her last bastion of friendship. 

She still harbored a bit of a crush on him, but it was justified! Like a knight in shining armor, he stood, always ready to defend her. He always ensured her inclusion in class activities and saved her from several catastrophes. 

She still stumbled over her words with him, but when it’s minor stuttering or not talking to anyone, she forced herself to adapt. It was nowhere near as bad as it used to be. 

With the ability to spend more time with Adrien without acting like a spaz, Kagami also appeared more often, and proved to be a good friend. Marinette found a home with the two awkward rich kids ridiculously clueless and unaware of how the real world functioned. In the end, she even grew to accept Adrien might not be destined to be hers but chose to support him nonetheless. 

“My lady?” She was broken out of her musing by a familiar voice.

“Hello, Kitty-cat. I got your message… what’s wrong?” She turned to see Cat Noir slumped over the railing, with his ears tweaking nervously. She didn’t even know he could do it. 

“I… I’m sorry my Lady, but I can’t… I can’t continue to be your partner,” he declared.

“What?!” she squeaked. “What happened? What’s the matter?” 

“I’m… I’m getting married,” he announced, his ears drooping and tail tucked between his legs.  

Oh, that’s… not what she expected to hear. “Married? Congrat…” she drifted off, noticing his sour face. “Chat? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s… I… My…” He struggled to figure out how to say it, but ultimately remained silent for a moment. “There is nothing to be happy about. It’s a… business marriage,” he spat, his eyes narrowing.  

“But… those are illegal!” Ladybug protested.

“Not when you make it look like a love match. Especially if you insinuate at a scandal.” He sneered, jumping off the railing and pacing along the empty rooftop. “My father holds all the cards and I… I’m in no position to oppose him.”

“I’m sure we can…”

He sighed, walking over to her. “Please… M’lady. Don’t try to give me hope. I accepted what I must do.” With that, he reached for the ring, but she stopped him.

“Chat. We can try… You’re my friend. You can’t… We will figure it out. Together.” In all they’d endured, suffered, and triumphed - Marinette had never seen him this despondent… this broken. 

He sighed, his eyes flat and dull. “There is nothing to figure out,” he said, forcing the ring off his finger. 

The transformation fell, leaving Adrien Agreste materialized in place of her long-time partner. Plagg’s sharp cry cut off, as he’s sucked into the ring the second he popped out of it. She stood there, too stunned to notice the blond boy pushed the ring into her palm and closed it. 

Marinette wasn’t sure what thoughts decided to rampantly rage through her head, but the train of thoughts probably broke the collective speed limit everywhere in the world at the same time. 

“M’lady?” Adrien’s soft voice brought her to earth when she was one step from panic.

“A-Adrien?” She choked on the word.

“You heard about me?” He looked dumbfounded. Ladybug, too shocked to say a word, gestured over to the building line. Even from so high and far away, his most recent billboard advertisement stood visible. “Ah… right.”

“Who… who’s the lucky girl?” Inside her mind, she wondered if Kagami right now faced a  similar problem. It was the most logical…

“Lila Rossi,” Adrien admitted, his shoulders hunching. 

Marinette.exe stopped working. 

A moment passed.

Another.

“Um… M’Lady?” The boy tried to prod his ex-partner to respond by waving his hand in front of her face.

“That… that lying…” Ladybug saw red. This could not be happening.

Adrien nodded, the despondent look on his face growing worse every second.“My father deemed her a suitable heiress to the Gabriel brand… I tried to warn him she was a liar, but he… I think he actually admires her skill…” Tears built in his eyes, and Adrien covertly tried to wipe them away. 

“Maybe… maybe you could… I don’t know!” she screamed in frustration. Marinette had several ideas about what Adrien could do, but none of them would help. 

Running away would be a problem. Leaking the story to the press would lead to his home life growing even worse. After dealing with Gabriel Agreste’s parenting, she held no illusion Adrien could win a court battle. The rich too often got away with whatever they desired. She could try to sicc Uncle Jagged on the case… or maybe Clara Nightingale… Nadia Chamack would probably love the news-breaking story, but it would all put Adrien in danger. Who knows what would happen before they could obtain results or protection against Gabriel’s extensive reach. 

Adrien sighed as if knowing exactly where her thoughts took her. Chat was no dummy, he probably scoured over his options more times than he could count. His resignation, the last resort in a long line of failed plans.  “I appreciate you trying, but I already told you I accepted it. Just… take me down, please. I… I didn’t really plan the location well…” He let out a weak chuckle. 

“Fine… I’m sorry kitty...” She grabbed hold of him and swung to the ground. Despondently she watched her best friend, her partner, walk away into the night; resigned to a life of suffering and isolation. 

There must be something she could do, she thought. She closed a gloved fist around the ring. She was Ladybug, and if she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.  

-----------

A week later the press learned about the upcoming wedding. Adrien and Lila both left school for home-school. The press and the general public ate up the news story about star-crossed lovers that met in school and became inseparable. It didn’t help that the class kept commenting about how good they were for each other. 

Marinette resisted an urge to gag whenever she caught the sound of the vicious lies and propaganda.  She was asked for comment only once but chose to refuse. It didn’t earn her any popularity in class. Luckily, she convinced Nadia to stop a nasty side-story about her jealousy from being published. 

No closer to a plan, she despondently continued to push through her life without her friend. She, unsurprisingly, hadn’t received a single text or call. Marinette didn’t blame Adrien; his position couldn’t be easy. A month after Adrien departed from her class, Marinette convinced her parents to also home-school her. Without a single friend, the school became a burden. Of course, her reasoning to her parents leaned into her focus on her fashion business. Which wasn’t untrue. It was starting to pick up. 

The only upside to this whole debacle was near-lack of akuma attacks. It seemed Hawkmoth found a hobby. Maybe he wrote poems? 

Nah. Not his style...

Two months after the announcement  Marinette woke to surprise guests: Adrien, his father, and Lila knocked on the bakery’s doors. The bride-to-be in an especially sour mood, as much as she tried to hide it. Gabriel appeared to be devoid of any emotions, as usual.

She seated them on the couch and asked if they would like a drink. She didn’t bother to offer food, not wanting to waste good cake on the likes of Lila and Gabriel. Although, Adrien’s thin cheeks and haunted eyes made her regret the decision. 

All of them declined the drink.

“Madame Marinette, I assume you have heard of the Wedding?” The capitalization clearly discernible in his voice. 

“Yes… Yes sir!” she corrected herself. Trying desperately to mask her disgust behind a layer of nervousness. She couldn’t risk a glance at Adrien, even if this was the first time she’d seen him since that night on the roof. Making it through the meeting would be hard enough without watching him suffer.  

“While initially, I planned to prepare the dress and suit myself, my son convinced me to give a chance to someone else to shine.” Clearly, whatever it was Adrien said, it didn’t include a polite request. “I have seen the dress you made for Rock Star Jagged Stone’s wedding, as well as the suit worn by Nadia Chamack.”

“They are designs I’m particularly proud of, sir.” 

Play the part. Play the part. Don’t send him to the hospital. Papa and Maman would be disappointed. Well, Maman would probably join me… 

Her homicidal train of thought ended as she forced a smile to appear on her face. Contrary to Lila’s stretched thin lips;  Marinette’s smile shines bright and could’ve been mistaken for genuine.

“Indeed… I’ve come to commission you to design and make the gown and the suit for the sweet couple.” He announced like it was the highest honor, but there was an amount of bile in his words Marinette used to think was reserved only for Nino.

“I… I’m… I’m honored, sir!” She beamed. The excitement only half-forced. Her moral compass told her even entertaining the proposal was wrong, but at the same time, her brain furiously flitted crafting possibilities. 

Gabriel nodded imperiously as if her acceptance merely added to a foregone conclusion. “Good. My assistant, Nathalie, will sort out the details. Lex Luthor agreed to pay for the pieces as his wedding gift, so do not be afraid to ask for full price.” He informed her t as if he believed she would give him a discount. 

For a moment, a singular reckless moment, Marinette entertained the temptation to voice her thoughts about Gabriel being cheap. 

She sighed, no, there would be another day for career suicide. The group rose to leave, and Marinette finally glanced at Adrien; his model-trained smile paper-thin. He caught her eyes, and if he radiated sadness two months ago, it didn’t hold a candle to the devastation swimming in his eyes. The exchange broke when Lila gripped a hand tight around his arm and dragged him to the door. 

Gabriel handed her a card, and the group departed. Marinette collapsed onto the couch, the makings of a headache building in her skull. 

This would be awful.  

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

A week later Marinette held a separate meeting, consisting of Nathalie, Lila, Lila’s mother, and Adrien’s aunt. And her, obviously. 

She first asked what kind of dress Lila wanted.

Lila’s eyes lit up in an unholy glee; and she started talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

After the long and painstakingly thorough description, Marinette felt faint. Several reasons contributed to that, although the most prominent were the materials, the design, and the way she spoke. Obviously Lila had feelings, the kind likely to trigger an oncoming Auma attack if Hawkmoth hadn’t pranced off to who knows where, about Marinette designing her dress. 

Marinette was happy Adrien’s aunt pointed out the request’s complete madness, but Lila’s mother waved it off, quick to declare only minor adjustments to the request would be needed. 

In the end, Marinette presented several dozen designs, both hers and foreign to have a basis on which she could work. Lila, of course, chose the one that would be hardest to make.

“I’m sorry none of your designs were good, Marinette…” The liar cooed with faked sorrow. She hid a smirk the designer could clearly see. 

The notion was born because it was a picture and not a sketch. 

Marinette smirked, and rose from the couch, ignoring Lila’s irritated scowl at her non-reaction.  

She liked it even less when the girl brought in the ready-made dress. 

“I made it as the first design for Penny Rolling’s wedding, based on Uncle Jagged’s suggestions. I should’ve known Penny didn’t approve of his idea, but…” she waved it off.

Lila, now actively glaring at her, sat back on the couch. All of which was mistaken for amazement by the adults.

Marinette ignored the girl’s dramatics, it was the only way she’d survive this meeting intact. “Of course, there still needs to be several adjustments and personalizations. I will also need to order the amber you requested. And the platinum thread. And the white gold. And probably an industrial-grade 3-D printer… Is that covered by the expenses?” She looked at Nathalie, who nodded. “Great! I will need just a moment.” 

The women watched as Marinette practically leaped at her notebook and added in adjustments to the sketch. Fifteen minutes later, when she presented a new design, impressing them all (sans Lila, obviously) with the flowing lines and intricate details. They praised her talent (even Natalie), and Marinette played the bashful young designer role to a tee. The liar kept glaring though. She couldn’t back away easily, since she already made a scene about wanting that specific dress. Marinette informed them beforehand she would need to know about her specific wishes before she made any adjustments. 

The final design looked pretty much exactly what Lila wanted though, but she didn’t want to give her nemesis the satisfaction. Her entourage did enough of this. 

Under the cover of being too emotional, they ended the meeting. Nathalie remained to finish the deal and sign the contract. 

After all of them left, Marinette collapsed onto her chair. An hour later a notification from her bank came. She received the first half of the payment. When finished, the dress would officially be the most expensive wedding dress to date. Blessed be Lex Luthor and his deep pocket. She chuckled, remembering how much the billionaire got kidnapped because of his money.

Then, an idea shined in her head.

Oh. 

Oh...

She took off her earrings and dismissed Tikki, promising she needed a quick chat with Plagg about a new potential holder. When Marinette put on the ring, the Kwami of destruction popped back into existence. 

“So… figured out how to help my chosen?” he asked. 

What Tikki didn’t know was when Marinette said she intended to discuss potential holders for Plagg, they really worked on a way to save Adrien. It was their secret since Tikki would most likely disapprove. They didn’t want to risk her disappointment in them. Not until they crafted a fleshed out full-proof plan. 

She nodded. “I have an idea. Let’s hire someone to kidnap him!” 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Did they hit you on the head, pigtails?”

“No. But look, the problem is whatever we come up with, Adrien ends up blamed or we land ourselves in jail, right?” The Kwami nodded. “So… if we make sure it’s a very public kidnapping and he disappears, we can stash him away until the heat dies down. After we dye his hair and apply fast-tan, he will look different enough no one will connect the two. I’m pretty sure I could get my hands on fake documents if I tried hard enough…” she trailed off thinking of all the minutiae to coordinate to pull this off. 

It would be hard. 

But it would be worth it. 

Plagg slowly nods. “Okay… Somehow, that both makes no sense and seems perfectly legitimate. It’s also your most chaotic plan to date, Pigtails. Let’s do it!” The Kwami cheered, happy to be soon reunited with his chosen kitten. “But what about the costs!”

Marinette already had an answer in mind for that question. “Even after I subtract the costs of materials and other supplies, the payment for the dress, together with my savings, will be more than enough. Now… let’s go wake Tikki up.”

That… ended with the Kwami of Creation vomiting a pile of handcuffs and other police gear at Marinette. 

“Um… Why?”

The little red Kwammi placed her paws on her hips. “Because you should familiarize yourself with those if you plan on going to prison for that plan. It’s no longer just a phone theft, Marinette! You’re talking about breaking more laws than I can count!” She dropped to the pillow below, bemoaning about where she went wrong. 

Marinette scooped up her wayward friend and tried to reassure her. “I just need to be careful. I’m pretty sure I can do it without detection. Maman taught me how to not be seen on the internet. Or in general. Come on. I need to order a secure laptop.”

“I will help!” Plagg offered. “I can cataclysm the internet after you do your thing.”

“What?! No! Think of the cute cat pictures!” Marinette protested. “And video games.” 

“Relax! It’ll just remove any trace of you doing anything online in the several hours or so…” He calmed her.

Tikki trailed after them, a bundle of nerves and worry. “Plagg! It’s irresponsible! You can’t possibly…”

“Pigtails and I have it all under control. What’s the worst that could happen?”

---------

Turns out, a lot. 

Before Marinette put out the hit (kidnapping, she made sure that it was plain as day), she needed to set a price. That one was harder. It wasn’t like you could Google how much you needed to charge to kidnap a celebrity. At least, not without attracting a lot of unwanted attention. 

She asked her mother, under the guise of pure curiosity. It was a normal question any teenage girl asked her mother. How much does it cost to have someone killed, how much cheaper/more expensive a kidnapping is, how to acquire fake documents, that kind of stuff. Not suspicious at all. 

So absorbed in her rant, she missed a merry glint in Sabine’s eyes. She also didn’t question how her Maman knew those prices. 

Finally, she needed to fill the form. 

Assignment: Acquisition and Delivery

Asset(s): Adrien Athanase Agreste

Value: 

Here, Marinette paused. 

Her mom gave her a lengthy lecture about pricing and all. According to her, a professional would take up to fifty thousand dollars for kidnapping and bringing the target to her. Marinette decided, since Adrien was a celebrity, she should double the price. More risks involved, more reward, right? 

But, she also wanted to ensure she hired the best of the best. Compare her work to Gabriel Agreste’s, she came to the conclusion ten times the price was reasonable to ensure only the best in the field would take the job. 

Then, there was the matter of safety and so on and so on. By the end, she settled on two million dollars, as her asking price for one Adrien Agreste. Plagg sagely nodded, agreeing with her assessment. Tikki didn’t comment, as she wasn’t speaking to the two, but also seemed more accepting after spying on Adrien and Lila’s home life. Not that she revealed that tidbit to either of them, lest they drop the plan and directly go at Gabe and the Liar. 

After a few more details and boxes in the form Marinette filled until she came to the end. Only one more detail remained: 

Sponsor:

Marinette stared at the word for a moment. After a quick race of thoughts, she typed slowly. 

Sponsor: The Seamstress

Perfect. Nothing about this could go wrong.

Of course, how could she predict just how big of a mess she would make? 

----------

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 23

TW: Brief smut

Words Count: 2.5k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 24

“I can’t believe I’m engaged now. Can you believe it? A whole week before he kept annoying me and all of a sudden he brought me a ring.” Irene rolls her eyes. The two of you met for lunch nearby the company. You haven’t seen her in a while and it feels nice to catch up with everything. Irene is one of the few of the very little friends you have.

Her longtime boyfriend had finally proposed to her. You almost scream finally when Irene broke the news to you. You genuinely feel happy for her.

“So, guess that’s it for today’s catch up session.” She grins at you.

“Um.. actually do you mind if I come up for a moment?”

“Uh duh~ of course not! You miss him already?” She teases.

You try to stifle a smile. “A little bit.” You do miss him a little.

When you reach your old desk, Irene excuses herself to the restroom. Feeling excited, you head towards Jimin’s room. But that feeling dampens quickly when he’s nowhere to be seen. Pouting, you head back to your old station.

You’re about to text him about his whereabouts when you see him comes with a woman next to him. They stand not far from where you are but you don’t think they notice since you’re slightly hidden behind the wall.

They stand there for a moment as they talk and you wonder who the woman is. You don’t think you’ve encountered her before back when you’re still working here.

They laugh about something and she briefly touches your husband’s arm. If Jimin’s somehow uncomfortable with that, he’d done a perfect job hiding it. You feel your inside boiling, perhaps just a little.

While they’re still talking, you head into Jimin’s office. Storming into the room, you huff, feeling furious.

But then something catches your eye.

Taking a few step towards Jimin’s table, you notice the name plaque with his name written on it, the one you made. Drawn to it, you move closer and reaches for it, heart fluttering a little.

And then you notice the picture frame next to it. It looks strangely familiar so you move around the table and there’s no mistaking that it’s the portrait you made. The portrait looks so out of place in his sleek and modern office that you suddenly feel like laughing.

The picture next to it does a little something to your heart. It’s your wedding picture but it’s just you, smiling brightly.

How are you supposed to be mad at him when he does this?

You pout.

And then suddenly the door opens. Jimin enters and immediately sees you but he only frowns for a moment before gesturing the woman in.

Your eyes narrow slightly.

It would all be fine, really, because you’re a professional, only if she keeps her hands off your husband.

Jimin then gestures her to sit across him. She bows, her neck a tad bit too exposed. You notice Jimin looking away for a split second, working hard to hide his uncomfortable expression.

The way her skirt is too short and the way she crosses her legs, you can see through it all.

Well, Mrs. Park to the rescue.

Biting your lips, you walk over. She finally notices your presence when you come near. You hold a hand out to her.

“You are..?” She asks.

“I’m Mrs. Park.”

For a fleeting second, you see her face registers surprise as she shakes your hand. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Park. I’m Jinah.”

Jimin’s arm snakes around your waist as you take your place beside him.

“And you’re here for..?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m here to discuss about a new publishing project that us as Glory Publishing is currently positively reviewing. You might be aware that Mr. Park is planning to acquire Glory Publishing.”

Oh, you knew about this one. Jimin told you this before. His company had been looking for potential publishing companies to branch out and Glory Publishing is one of them. But they didn't make the cut. Yet here they are trying to convince Jimin that they're looking at the next big project.

Your husband has made it clear that their company didn't make the cut but they're very persistent. You briefly wonder why he still accepts appointments with their party. Perhaps out of goodwill.

You clear your throat. "I thought our representatives had made it clear on this issue. Your company has issues with ethical problems and we’re doing our best to avoid future problems.” Perhaps your confidence is boosted a little with Jimin playing with your hair behind you.

Jinah seems flustered, perhaps not expecting you to address the issue. She tries to have a look at your husband but you immediately covered him.

And he just grins behind you, lips caressing your hair because he swears he loves you so much when you’re protecting him like this.

“If you don’t have anything else,” you look at your watch, “unfortunately the time is up. I have to ask you to leave because my husband is very booked and busy. If there’s any further issue, I hope you can contact our representatives instead.” You hold a hand out to her and she takes it, although her expression is furious. Without another word, she storms out.

As soon as she left, you let out a relieved sigh, suddenly not believing you just did that. Jimin tries to stifle a smile at your reaction. You got up and move towards Jimin’s desk and he follows you from behind.

“I have a very good secretary it seems.” He whispers to your ears, making you gasp. He then stands in front of you.

You gulp. Too close, too close.

He sits on the edge of his desk. “And how should I reward you for that?” He smiles.

Suddenly, he pulls you onto his lap and you let out a squeak.

His eyes fell to your lips and it looks so, so dangerous.

Oh no. “Jimin, it’s the office.”

“So?”

“You can’t do anything to me.” You try to run.

“It’s my company.” He catches your wrist effortlessly.

Your eyes widen. “It’s gross.”

He quirks one eyebrow. And you catch his off guard moment to run away. Pretty sure your husband’s laughing at you now.

A grin appears on your lips when you’re reminded of that evening’s event. Jimin really has a gift of making your heart rate spike up. You have no idea how to handle when your husband’s being flirty. You’re in the kitchen, having just finished washing the dishes. You set to make a cup of coffee for Jimin and then heads to his study. You softly knock before entering to see him talking through a phone call. He glances up upon your entrance and mouths a thank you as you put the cup down in front of him.

You look around his study for several moments, briefly remembering the first time you’re in here and your husband has just come up with the marriage contract with you. You smile fondly at the memory. It feels so long since then. And look at where the two of you are now.

You’re just about to dismiss yourself when something catches your attention.

Something’s weird.

You think as you stop and stare at the vast painting before you. It looks strangely familiar. You think hard for a while but is still unable to remember the source so you resolve to thinking that perhaps it’s been hung there from the start.

“You remember this painting?” Jimin suddenly asks as he comes to stand beside you.

And suddenly it all clicks in your head. It’s the painting you both saw at the art exhibition. The Isle of Sorrow.

You feel like you’re in a sort of treasure hunt today with everything that you found.

“I bought it the day we saw..” he says carefully.

Your heart starts to race. “I didn’t wanna scare you.. so I kept it hidden.. I didn’t know why I bought it back then.” He laughs at himself then smiles sheepishly. “Perhaps I was already in love..”

You don’t think you can control the pace of your heart anymore.

Especially not when his face is inching closer and closer to you, closing the proximity between the two of you.

And then he takes your lips by surprise although you’ve been anticipating it. It’s slow and languid but it’s enough to suck the air out of you. You think you’ll always marvel by how soft his lips are against yours. When he pulls back, you’re all sorts of breathless.

“Y/N.” He says firmly.

You look up at him expectantly.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you straight in the eye.

“I love you.”

It takes a moment for your brain to process and to make sure you didn’t mishear it. And your eyes water immediately.

“I think I’ve fallen for you since back then.. even before.. you said you love me. But I wasn’t sure what it was back then and I tried so hard to deny what I was feeling.. you were constantly on my mind.. I keep on worrying when you’re not in front of me, I feel so angry even at the thought of another guy touching you, I want to destroy anything or everything that hurts you the slightest.. including me.. because I know I’m the one that hurts you the most.. and it almost cost your life.. for me to realize that I burn for you.. my day and my nights.. that I’m actually in love with you.”

And the tears run down your cheeks. It’s all so overwhelming and something that you can’t describe because you’ve been waiting for so long for him to reciprocate your feelings and then he finally says the words but you both had been through so much and it just somehows feels like a very long journey.

A tear escapes Jimin’s eyes too but he’s quick to inhale a breath and recomposes himself. He then wipes your tears and gives you a moment to recompose.

“There’s something I want to do.” he says, eyes staring at you seriously. “I.. I know I’m a lot to put up with.. and I know I’ve done.. worse things. But I want to do this.. I want to be.. with you.”

And suddenly he takes out something from his right pocket and kneels down in front of you. You gasp as you watch him with widening eyes.

“I promise to love you, cherish you, honor you, and to hold your hands always in times of good and bad. I vow to stay faithful, loyal and honest till we both grow old. Will you... start this marriage anew.. with me?”

Your heart beats even faster, tears almost threatening again when you realize he’s reciting the wedding vow six months ago, except that this time it is full of sincerity.

And your heart continues to thunder against your chest when he opens the small velvet box, a ring with a simple crystal centrepiece encased in it.

And it suddenly dawns to you that he’s the only man that you’ll ever love in your life.

So you nod. With your eyes glistening in tears.

Jimin gives you a full smile. And then he takes the ring out and gently put it on your fourth finger. That’s when you realize he already puts his on, one that matches yours on his finger too.

When he raises to his feet, you don’t waste another second to pull him into a hug.

You love him.. with all your heart. Is all you could think.

When you both pull back, he looks at you fondly.

“I just thought that you deserve a proper proposal..” he grabs your hand and guides you to his study desk. You watch in confusion for a second as he bents down to pick up something from behind the desk and your eyes widen when you see a bouquet of red roses. “Hearts..” he says as his finger points to his heart, “and flowers.” He hands you the bouquet.

He smiles as you remain speechless.

“I.. honestly I’ve had this for a long time, ever since you’re still in the hospital.. and I tried to find the right time but I don’t know.. I gave up trying to find the right time because I think there’s no such thing as the right time.. but I want to do this..”

You raise your fingers to cup his chin tenderly. “It’s.. perfect.”

You watch as his eyes lit up from your words. And then his face inches closer. You know he’s about to kiss you again but this time, you’re ready.

Your eyes flutter close as his lips finally meet yours and it’s as if your lips are made for him when they moulded perfectly against his.

He tilts his head slightly and this time he pulls you even closer. His lips presses against yours more deeply, drawing a whimper from your throat, a sound that causes him to grunt.

The kiss escalates quickly, growing more and more intense, making your feet curl against the plush carpet.

His hands move downwards from your neck towards your shoulder. And when one of his hand brushes against your breast, you let out a squeak in surprise.

Jimin pulls away immediately, eyes finding yours. His expression concerned, perhaps wondering if he’s gone too far from your comfort zone.

“I’m sorry.” He says quickly, still a little out of breath.

You bite your bottom lip. You don’t want him to stop. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just.. I’m not used.. I’m.. I’ve never.. I’ve never done this before..”

He looks at you softly. “I know. And I promised you to take it slow. So I’m not gonna do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?”

You nod. He smiles and releases you and suddenly you’re afraid he’ll go away so you grab his shirt quickly.

He raises his brow at you.

“We.. we can.. we can continue.. to kiss..” you say and you feel like you’re going to die from embarassment.

Jimin smiles wickedly, almost wanting to clutch his heart physically because he finds you too adorable. “Wow okay. Kiss me then.” He says playfully.

You look up at him, eyes round in determination and he finds it so adorable it takes everything in him not to initiate the kiss first.

Closing the proximity, you tiptoe slightly and press your lips firmly against his.

You feel him smiling against your lips and you can’t help but smile too. This time, you try to take control.

Your fingers card his hair as you pull him tight against you, deepening the kiss. A moan escapes his mouth and you’ve never heard something sound so sinful before.

It almost kind of sparks something carnal deep inside you.

And then your hands are on his chest, deftly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands are on each side of your waist, palms flat against your skin, not making any move to explore anymore and you want to change that.

You want him to know that you’re ready.

So you press yourself against him and practically grinds against him, making him groan.

“Baby-” he says but you cut him by taking his lips again. Tongue fervently exploring his mouth.

“Jimin-” you call him, breathless. “Take me to bed, please.”

A/N: *fanning myself* im actually blushing aaaaaa yall know what's coming in the next chapter ;)))

on the side note, I am having mixed feeling right now. I can’t wait for this story to end and show it to you guys but at the same time I’m sad that it’s coming to an end because there’s really not much chapter left 🥺

Buy me a cup of coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 24

Posted on 210607 9:00PM

[bxngchxn]

friends don’t || h.jisung

This is a re-upload from my old blog, @ethereal-bang ! I’ll be uploading most if not all of my old works every once in awhile. Hope you like it!

Characters: Jisung x female reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Type: Friends to Lovers, fluff, smut, college!jisung

Warnings: unprotected sex (always use a condom!), oral (female receiving)

This is intended for mature audiences. Do not read if you are under the age of 18.

Y/N: hey sungie i have to make a run to the grocery store, do you want to go with me?

Jisung: well i was supposed to meet up with Changbin

Y/N: oh, okay, that’s fine then

Jisung: you didn’t let me finish

Jisung: he can wait, did you want me to head over now?

Y/N: yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you soon!

Jisung: be there in 10 :)

You put your phone into your pocket and smile. One of your favorite things to do was run errands with Jisung. Whether they were yours or his, just spending quality time with your best friend was the way you relaxed. You’d been doing this ever since the two of you moved to off campus apartments your second year of college. What started as him going grocery shopping with you because you needed someone to carry in the heavy essentials, turned into something you did at least once every two weeks. The ride to the store is always short but filled with laughs and conversation.

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed.

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met. Shy smiles exchanged in lecture turned into study sessions in the library, and before you knew it, you were thrown into a new group of friends with the surprisingly noisy boy from your chem class. Always down for a crazy adventure, Jisung had pushed you to try things you normally wouldn’t, and you were grateful for all of the experiences.

You came to notice, though, that there was something bubbling in your chest every time Jisung would get a little too close at a party, the two of you a little drunk. Like that one time, the two of you giggling at an absolutely hammered Seungmin who is trying to beat someone at a b-boying competition in a bar somewhere downtown. The smell of his cologne and the heat of his body so close to you that you lose all track of thought. When a hand on your waist that leads you through a crowded room, just making sure he doesn’t lose you sends fireworks up your chest.

You know that this is something that just friends don’t do, something that just friends don’t feel. The scary part was that you weren’t sure if you were just imagining things, or if there was actually something there.

Jisung insists on riding in the cart while you push it through the store, and though you complain about how heavy he is, you do it with a smile on your face the entire time. You opt for piling your groceries on top of him instead, hoping that the weight of the bag of apples you put on his stomach urges him to get out of the cart and actually help you.

And eventually he does, after some complaining that you buy too many heavy things. Jisung helps you carry all of it regardless.

Jisung is absolutely whipped for you. Pretty much anyone can see it, and when he first gets teased about it by Seungmin, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Thinks that, you know, everyone spends as much time as they can with their best friend. It’s normal for the two of you to plan future vacations, future holidays together, right? Right?

It hits him late one night that maybe his feelings are more complex than he thought. You had called him, at 2 in the morning, unable to fall asleep. “I just wanted to say hi, and hear your voice I guess,” you tell him, and his heart melts. Your voice is soft, and sounds like you really could fall asleep any second. It makes Jisung smile, and while he’s talking about how his day is going, and the songs he’s been working on with Chan and Changbin, he can hear your breathing even out on the other end.

Quietly saying your name, he confirms that you’re asleep when you don’t answer him. He feels that familiar feeling creep up, the one he gets when he’s always with you, and thinks to himself: Is this what being in love with someone feels like? The feeling is so soft and familiar that he really hadn’t realized it all those times before. Maybe the guys were right, and you two definitely weren’t just friends. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe.

Everything comes to a stop when the two of you attend a house party together. The music is loud and fast, and Jisung can’t help but let his eyes roam over your body as you dance with a girl from your history class. The smile on your face is the brightest he’s ever seen, and it makes him feel a little dizzy, more than the small amount of alcohol he’s had tonight ever could. When the song changes, and the beat turns sensual, Jisung decides that he’s had enough of beating around the bush. He was going to tell you just how he felt about you, and he’s praying that it’s reciprocated.

Jisung walks up to you, cool and confident with his red solo cup in his hand. You look up at him, and blush when his hand lands on your waist. “My turn for a dance.” he says, and you oblige. To your surprise, Jisung turns you around and his grip on you tightens.

“Jisung, what are you doing?” you giggle when he leans down to answer you, his breath tickling the skin below your ear. “What do you think I’m doing?” he asks. His hips start to move against yours, on beat with the music. The hand that’s holding his drink takes one of yours, resting it on the hand on your hip. He feels warm, and the feeling of him behind you makes you feel small in the best way possible.

His lips trail down to your neck, and you almost moan at the feeling. “You can’t tell me,” he begins, kissing your neck softly between every word spoken, “that you don’t feel whatever this is between us,”

He gets a little more confident when you turn to look at him, and in an instant his lips are on yours. It’s soft, but full of need. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, fully turning around in his hold and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. You have to tiptoe a little too reach his lips, and the realization makes Jisung laugh.

When you pull away, you look at him. Lips swollen, hair a little messed up at the nape where you decided to thread your fingers through it. You felt fireworks go off when you looked into his eyes. You were right, the two of you definitely weren’t just friends.

“Let’s head home, yeah?” you ask him, and you’ve never seen him move so fast. Taking your hand, he leads you through the crowd. You say your goodbyes to whoever you can find, most of the guys off somewhere in the party. The two of you miss the look Seungmin gives to Jeongin at the sight of your hands intertwined, and Jeongin groans as he pulls $5 out of his wallet.

_____________________________

By the time Jisung leads you into your own apartment, the excitement has built up so much that you feel like you could burst. Pushing you up against the door once inside, Jisung can’t keep his hands off of you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you like this..” He says as he presses another hot kiss to your lips. You make a move to lift his shirt, and he lets you. You’ve seen Jisung shirtless a hundred times, but looking at him like this, you were absolutely sure that there was nowhere you wanted to be more right now, than underneath him.

You’re surprised at your own boldness as you push him towards the direction of your bedroom. He gets the hint and grabs your thighs. “Jump,” he says, and you comply. He lifts you up and carries you through the apartment, hands roaming your thighs and your ass as he tries to navigate the apartment with your lips on his neck.

Setting you on the bed softly, Jisung is immediately on top of you. His hands are all over you, trying to get you out of your clothes as fast as possible. Once your shirt is off and your skirt is pushed up, he fumbles with the zipper in the back and groans when notices the matching lavender set you’re wearing. Purple was never his favorite color until this exact moment.

The feeling of his hands on you, warm and safe and protective, sets a fire in you that had been long overdue. You arch your back when his hands move to your breasts, fingers roaming over the fabric and looking up at you for approval. You nod your head and he takes the piece of clothing off. His lips attach to your nipple and you have to hold in a whimper at the sensation.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, I swear on my life,” he mutters, and your cheeks blush at such a soft compliment in such an intimate setting. Your mind is already going hazy, the soft touches he’s giving you are good but nowhere near enough.

“Jisung please..please touch me,” you ask. He looks you in the eyes and grins, slowly making his way down your body. “I thought you would never ask,” he says as he licks a long line up your slit. Your hands fly to his hair, feeling the soft tresses in your fingers as he takes you somewhere you’ve never been before. “God, Jisung s-so good,” you say in between moans. It spurs him on, enough to insert a finger into your core. The added friction makes the knot in your stomach tighten, and before you know it, you’re desperately begging Jisung to make you cum.

He adds another finger and his lips find your clit, sucking on it as if his life depended on it. His fingers hit a spot inside of you that makes your vision go white, and the only thing you can think to say is his name as your first orgasm rushes over you. Once he’s made sure that you’ve ridden out your high, he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, licking them clean.

Jisung comes back up and kisses you harshly, full of passion and lust. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth. You pull on the belt of his jeans, realizing he hasn’t taken them off yet.

Pushing him onto the bed, you climb on top of him and help him with his jeans. The sight of you on top of Jisung has him unbelievably hard, and he’s sure he’s in heaven when your hands make contact with his cock. Putting your hands on his chest, you watch as Jisung helps you align his cock with your entrance. You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling. He stretched you in just the right ways, and you can’t help but think that this is the way it’s always supposed to be. The two of you, together.

“Fuck, I love you,” you say without thinking, and Jisung pauses. The look in his eyes is definite: Absolutely sure and absolutely in love. He pulls you down and holds you close as he begins to move inside of you. His lips find your neck, whispering sweet nothings against you as his pace begins to pick up.

Before you know it, Jisung is fucking up into you at a wild pace, a clear contrast to the praises he’s saying in his ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby.. You were made for me. I love you so much.” He says, and that’s enough to feel the coil tighten in you for the second time. You push your lips against his, effectively swallowing every noise you make as you reach your high. Jisung is moving even faster, if possible, and the grip he has on your waist is so strong you’re sure it’s going to leave bruises in the morning. The only thing you can think of is the way Jisung is saying your name, desperate and wanton.

The sensitivity from your second orgasm has you clenching around Jisung, and that’s when he loses it. One hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you into a kiss filled with every emotion he ever needed to feel. You feel him fill you up and sigh, warm and content.

The two of you stay there for a moment; relishing in the way you feel wrapped around each other. You roll off of Jisung to lay beside him on the bed, and his arm wraps around your waist, not wanting to be away from you for even a moment. You giggle at how messy his hair looks and take a piece of it between your fingers.

“You know, I meant every word I said to you,” he says softly as he looks into your eyes. “I know you did. And I love you. I love you so much, Han Jisung,” you say. He sighs almost in relief, and he can confirm that this moment, right here, is the happiest that he’s ever felt. After years of all the unspoken words, ghosting touches and what ifs, you were finally his. “I love you too. More than anything.” he says as he pulls you close.

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed. And that next morning, when you do wake up and see Jisung laying next to you, the feeling is magnified by tens of thousands. The way the sun is catching on his face makes him glow, and when he pulls you into him with the promise of “5 more minutes,” you don’t refuse.

[internalsealpanic]

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary:  Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror.  Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there. 

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric. 

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap. 

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare. 

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more  concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure.  “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.”  You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction. 

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4  and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,”  you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look.  “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,”  you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes.  “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that.  “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?” 

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app- 

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He  whispers an indiscernible  ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.  

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle. 

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine. 

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim. 

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow. 

You laugh, he’s sure this time. 

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click. 

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course. 

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you 

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right? 

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it.  There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass. 

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?” 

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging. 

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack  of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else. 

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs. 

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming. 

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded.  He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo.   He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually. 

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta  keep it realistic, yanno?”  Steph and Duke keep bickering. 

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says,  clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm.  Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue. 

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor. 

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering. 

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.  

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush. 

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve. 

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is  louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a  wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile. 

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers. 

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck. 

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted. 

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?” 

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation.  Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge. 

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder. 

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed. 

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is. 

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right.  “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.  

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume. 

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face. 

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of  a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on  the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you.  “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this. 

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?" 

"No!" 

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick. 

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn. 

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass. 

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands)  at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child." 

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!" 

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair. 

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side. 

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle. 

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes. 

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest.  "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything. 

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced. 

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest.  You all follow his movements with interest. 

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head. 

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering. 

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be.  Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work. 

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn  from an irate Damian. 

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares.  Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.” 

“Why would you trust a clown?” 

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively. 

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently. 

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph.  Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests. 

 You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!” 

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses. 

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you.  “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers.  Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand.  “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests. 

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.” 

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs.  “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie. 

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head. 

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs. 

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner. 

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?" 

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes. 

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers. 

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad. 

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in  contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary." 

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn. 

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll  get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat." 

"Dick…" 

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?" 

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice. 

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd." 

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!" 

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES." 

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning. 

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests. 

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion." 

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick. 

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?" 

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers. 

"Chum, you're not even a teenager." 

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout. 

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol." 

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder. 

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.  

"That was one time, you assholes!" 

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?" 

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough. 

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!" 

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach." 

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one." 

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?" 

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off.  “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.” 

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her. 

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair. 

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”  

  Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[candychronicles]

boo // d. kaminari

A/N: this is my take on the horror, haunts and halloween bnharem server collab! 

CHARACTER PAIRING: Denki Kaminari x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,315

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, car fucking, some extremely mild spooks

SYNOPSIS: who knew a little bet between friends could turn into so much more?

Want to see what other spooky, scary stories await? Click here to find out !

“boo!” 

“damnit Kaminari, you scared the hell out of me!” you screeched, whipping around to smack your friend on the shoulder. “besides, you should save all of the screams for the house tonight!”

he shrugged his body, clearly not bothered by your comment before proceeding to the men’s dressing area, makeup already adorned on his body. he was performing tonight as a sort of scary chainsaw man with bloodshot eyes and a dark streaked face. despite the outwardly appearance of his costume, he was, at least to you, a funny and extremely attractive guy. you two had spent your whole fall flirting and teasing in between hallways and sets, having fun and making people scared at the same time. 

you never meant to work at a haunted house, but you needed the money, and it seemed much more exciting to get paid scaring people and dressing up in cool costumes over working a seasonal retail job. due to your ability to at least fake a scary and eccentric personality, they hired you immediately, along with a few other people your age. you figured it would be a good way to meet new people and have fun but you were certainly not expecting to fall in love with the dorky yet extremely talented kid with the cool hair and outlandish jokes. 

your time in the dressing and makeup room didn’t take too long, adorning a creepy maid outfit with sunken black eyes and a wicked bloody smile. twirling the braids adorning your head, you skipped out of the room, ready to get into character and have another night of spooks.

“hey, let’s make a bet tonight, hm? make it a little more interesting?” Kaminari offered, sliding in beside you like he had been there all along.

“sure, what do you propose?” 

“let’s see who can get the loudest scream of the night. we’ll both be generally near each other, so no cheating or lying because i’ll be able to tell!”

“how are we going to measure that? what if it’s really close, what are you going to do about that?”

“rock, paper, scissors?” he countered, flashing his hands and gesturing the game with a devious smile.

“sure, why not. what do i get if i win?”

“anything you want, sugar.”

you attempted to ignore the comment, though your cheeks heated up and your eyes grew just a bit wider.

“how about you owe me dinner tonight?” you joked, flashing your own toothy grin.

“that all, dollface? i’d do that any day.”

“oh boo, that’s boring. make him wear your maid costume or something!” Kirishima shouted from across the hall, seemingly butting into your increasingly heated conversation. 

“now that’s an idea,” you teased, laughing along with Kirishima as Kaminari’s face turned bright red. 

“that’s nothing! i’d do that any day,” he claimed, quickly moving on, “but i say if i win then you owe me dinner. easy enough?”

you nodded your head in agreement, shaking on it and pressing your pinkies together for extra emphasis before heading towards your separate destinations, ready for the challenge.

the night started off easy, you both earning screams of varying levels, but every time you got one, he shot right back with yet another. your jaw clenched and eyes grew dark, not backing down from the fight.

the whole evening and late through midnight did you two fight back and forth, tooth and nail, bringing out your nastiest and scariest tricks, doing everything you could to jumpscare and creep out the people of the attraction, but it seemed that neither of you were a clear winner. you, however, were not going to let him get the satisfaction of saying he won.

the final group of the night came through and you managed a loud, shrieking scream from the guy in the front, a wicked smile on your face as you waved at Kaminari down the hall. he retaliated with his own scare but, at least you thought, it didn’t quite live up to your own haunt.

“i totally won, i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” he shrieked, shoving fries in his face with a huff, waving his arms around in a display of anger.

“my scream was louder and you know it. just admit it, i was better than you tonight!” you argued back, leaning forward to look him directly in the eye, challenging him to keep up the fight.

he looked away, cheeks tinged pink at your sudden closeness, before crossing his arms and looking back at you. 

“fine, i’ll pay for the food, but i still don’t think you won. i can make anyone scream louder than you.”

“oh yeah? why don’t you prove it?” you challenged, eyes unwavering and boring straight into the side of his face. 

he took a moment to ponder, unsure of what you meant, before he looked back, pupils blown wide in shock.

“waiter, i need the check please.”

it took all of thirty seconds after leaving the dingy late night restaurant before his mouth was on yours, hot and unwavering, hands tangled deep into the back of your hair, digits pressing roughly into your scalp.

“where to?” he asked in between kisses, walking backwards as you trailed after him, hands grasping his shirt like it was your only lifeline. 

“whatever’s closest,” you whispered back, feeling him hit the car with the back of his body.

he quickly whipped around, fishing frantically for the keys in his pocket before shoving the shiny object into the lock and twisting, whipping the door open and gesturing you sweetly into the car. 

before you had barely sat down, he slammed the door, rushing to the other side and opening his own door, sinking in and turning the vehicle on, haphazardly buckling his seatbelt as he peeled out of the parking lot towards his apartment.

the bad part about working at a haunted house was that it was in the almost middle of nowhere. there was a small town with a couple restaurants and stores, but most workers came from the college town over, meaning you two had a small drive before you made it back to either of your apartments. 

Kaminari gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles turning white from the pressure of trying to drive safely while getting there as fast as he could. his teeth ground into each other, face set in a harsh frown, stress permanent on his face.

“relax, we’ll get there eventually. you’ll kill the mood with your sour face,” you teased, reaching sideways to place your hand on his thigh. his body jumped at your touch, briefly turning to face you before veering off onto the side of the road, seemingly finding some close down parking lot with a few trees surrounding the area.

“i’m sorry, you’re just driving me crazy. you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted you, since the day i first met you. you were so cocky and confident in your interview, ready to have fun and be crazy in your acting, but the moment you stepped away, you became so sweet and kid, always greeting everyone with a smile and a wave. i couldn’t get enough of your duality, enamored in the way you could switch that smirk on like it was nothing. seeing you in that dainty little maid outfit you’re wearing doesn’t help all that much,” he confessed, wringing his hands together as he attempted to calm himself down. “truth be told, i don’t want to be that shitty guy who you think is only using you for sex, but after that little stunt you pulled in the restaurant, i don’t think i can wait any longer to fuck you.”

you blinked once, twice, three times, trying to process what he was saying before unbuckling your seatbelt and veering towards his body, chests pressed together as you managed to climb into his lap, attacking his lips with your own, relishing in the way he practically melted under your touch, eager to feel you on him once again.

“backseat. now.”

you climbed back without hesitation, flashing him a bit of your ass as you wiggled your way onto the seat, patiently waiting for him to come back. he followed without waiting, immediately pulling your legs onto the seat and hovering over you, hands on either side of your head.

“are you sure you want to do this?” he confirmed, brushing away a couple pieces of hair that was scattered across your face.

“yes, i’m sure. please fuck me.”

he wasted no time before attaching himself to you once again, lips finding purchase on your own, against your neck, your collarbone, unbuttoning the front of your costume to nip at your breasts, leaving marks that would surely last for days. despite the cramped position you two were in, you still felt slick pool in your panties, thighs rubbing against the side of his body as you attempted to create some friction to relieve the tension building up.

you whined, begging for more, but before you could speak up to ask him for something, anything, he had already obliged, reaching down to rub the pad of his thumb against your clothed nub. you moaned in response, the need for him only growing by the minute.

“please, Kaminari-”

“Denki, call me Denki,” he corrected, nipping at your throat as his fingers moved under the skirt and around your panties, “and don’t worry baby, i’ll take care of you tonight.”

with that final statement, he pulled your panties aside completely and pushed one finger slowly into your waiting body, shivering at the feeling of your wet insides sucking him in, greedily begging for more. your breaths became uneven and labored, but you remained patient, enjoying every feeling he pulled from your wanting cunt.

he continued his assault on your neck and chest as his fingers pumped in and out of you, adding one, two more fingers, stretching you out until you were sopping and begging for his cock. he paused for one moment, hastily pulling his pants down as best as he could. before he could get to his boxers, however, you reached past his hand, pulling them down and stroking his dick, admiring the way it twitched in your hands, swollen and leaky, wanting to be inside of you just as much as you need him. 

you pulled him back down by his shirt collar, kissing him fiercely as he adjusted his body once more, you aligning him to your entrance, legs hiked up around his body as he caged you in. he sunk in slowly, not holding back his moans as he appreciated the way your body sucked him in, like he was meant to be there all along.

you moaned with him, a string of curses and praises flowing out of your mouth like a siren’s song, luring him into your lair one word at a time. 

“Denki, fuck, you feel so good. please don’t stop.”

he bottomed out in your, laughing when you shifted your hips, whining as you tried to get him to move. he pressed a chaste kiss to your head before rolling his own hips back, shivering at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he continued his pace slowly, rocking in and out of you, watching the car steam up from your breathy moans and sweat covered skin, feeling the car move in tandem with your bodies.

you arched your back and wrapped yourself around him as best as you could, dazzled by the feeling of his cock pistoning in and out of you. he was so close, his breath against your ear, and you relished in the way he moaned and sighed, feeling just as good as you were in that moment. 

he felt himself getting close much quicker than he wanted, but in that moment, he didn’t care, too enveloped in the way you squeezed around him, nails biting into his back and eyes screwed shut. he moved one hand back down in between your bodies and found your sensitive bundle of nerves, pressing down and swirling around, moaning as he felt you compressed around his cock, the new sensation overwhelming for you.

“fuck, baby, i’m so close,” he moaned, settling his head into your neck, biting down softly into your shoulder.

you only nodded back in response, too worried about chasing your own high that was emerging quickly with the combined pleasure of his cock and his fingers.

you arched your back and squeezed your thighs together as white hot lava shot through your lower stomach, cumming intensely on his cock. the feeling of your velvety walls pulsating around his own quickly brought him to his own high as he slowed his pace down, shooting his load into you.

you both laid there, breathless and sweaty, before you looked at him and erupted in giggles, wiping some of the sticky hair off his face. 

“i really liked that,” you confessed, biting your lip and smiling shyly despite the position you two were still currently in. 

“me too,” he agreed, kissing your forehead before slowly pulling out, sitting up and reaching forward into his console to grab a stack of napkins, cleaning you and himself up as best as he could.

you sat up after him, dizzy from pure elation, before a smirk came across your face.

“so you’re saying i won the bet, right?” 

“i feel like i won the lottery tonight so yes, i’ll say you won the bet.”

“good,” you affirmed, reaching forward to grab his face in your hands, squeezing slightly before bringing him closer to you, “remember what Kiri said? i think i’m going to take his words to heart.”

he looked at you confused, shrugging, but as you stared at him, his eyes grew wide once more as he realized what you meant.

“you get to wear the maid costume next.”

Taglist: @redbeanteax​ @softforshigi​ @katsuki-bakugous-lady @secondhand-trash​ @freiyalight​ @crystal-lilac​ @khemz1312​ @runrabbitrun3​

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[ethereal-bang]

friends don’t

Characters: Jisung x female reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Type: Friends to Lovers, fluff, smut, college!jisung

Warnings: unprotected sex (always use a condom!), oral (female receiving)

This is intended for mature audiences. Do not read if you are under the age of 18.

Y/N: hey sungie i have to make a run to the grocery store, do you want to go with me?

Jisung: well i was supposed to meet up with Changbin

Y/N: oh, okay, that’s fine then

Jisung: you didn’t let me finish

Jisung: he can wait, did you want me to head over now?

Y/N: yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you soon!

Jisung: be there in 10 :)

You put your phone into your pocket and smile. One of your favorite things to do was run errands with Jisung. Whether they were yours or his, just spending quality time with your best friend was the way you relaxed. You’d been doing this ever since the two of you moved to off campus apartments your second year of college. What started as him going grocery shopping with you because you needed someone to carry in the heavy essentials, turned into something you did at least once every two weeks. The ride to the store is always short but filled with laughs and conversation.

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed. 

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met. Shy smiles exchanged in lecture turned into study sessions in the library, and before you knew it, you were thrown into a new group of friends with the surprisingly noisy boy from your chem class. Always down for a crazy adventure, Jisung had pushed you to try things you normally wouldn’t, and you were grateful for all of the experiences. 

You came to notice, though, that there was something bubbling in your chest every time Jisung would get a little too close at a party, the two of you a little drunk. Like that one time, the two of you giggling at an absolutely hammered Seungmin who is trying to beat someone at a b-boying competition in a bar somewhere downtown. The smell of his cologne and the heat of his body so close to you that you lose all track of thought. When a hand on your waist that leads you through a crowded room, just making sure he doesn’t lose you sends fireworks up your chest.

You know that this is something that just friends don’t do, something that just friends don’t feel. The scary part was that you weren’t sure if you were just imagining things, or if there was actually something there.

Jisung insists on riding in the cart while you push it through the store, and though you complain about how heavy he is, you do it with a smile on your face the entire time. You opt for piling your groceries on top of him instead, hoping that the weight of the bag of apples you put on his stomach urges him to get out of the cart and actually help you.

And eventually he does, after some complaining that you buy too many heavy things. Jisung helps you carry all of it regardless.

Jisung is absolutely whipped for you. Pretty much anyone can see it, and when he first gets teased about it by Seungmin, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Thinks that, you know, everyone spends as much time as they can with their best friend. It’s normal for the two of you to plan future vacations, future holidays together, right? Right? 

It hits him late one night that maybe his feelings are more complex than he thought. You had called him, at 2 in the morning, unable to fall asleep. “I just wanted to say hi, and hear your voice I guess,” you tell him, and his heart melts. Your voice is soft, and sounds like you really could fall asleep any second. It makes Jisung smile, and while he’s talking about how his day is going, and the songs he’s been working on with Chan and Changbin, he can hear your breathing even out on the other end. 

Quietly saying your name, he confirms that you’re asleep when you don’t answer him. He feels that familiar feeling creep up, the one he gets when he’s always with you, and thinks to himself: Is this what being in love with someone feels like? The feeling is so soft and familiar that he really hadn’t realized it all those times before. Maybe the guys were right, and you two definitely weren’t just friends. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe. 

Everything comes to a stop when the two of you attend a house party together. The music is loud and fast, and Jisung can’t help but let his eyes roam over your body as you dance with a girl from your history class. The smile on your face is the brightest he’s ever seen, and it makes him feel a little dizzy, more than the small amount of alcohol he’s had tonight ever could. When the song changes, and the beat turns sensual, Jisung decides that he’s had enough of beating around the bush. He was going to tell you just how he felt about you, and he’s praying that it’s reciprocated. 

Jisung walks up to you, cool and confident with his red solo cup in his hand. You look up at him, and blush when his hand lands on your waist. “My turn for a dance.” he says, and you oblige. To your surprise, Jisung turns you around and his grip on you tightens. “Jisung, what are you doing?” you giggle when he leans down to answer you, his breath tickling the skin below your ear. “What do you think I’m doing?” he asks. His hips start to move against yours, on beat with the music. The hand that’s holding his drink takes one of yours, resting it on the hand on your hip. He feels warm, and the feeling of him behind you makes you feel small in the best way possible.

His lips trail down to your neck, and you almost moan at the feeling. “You can’t tell me,” he begins, kissing your neck softly between every word spoken, “that you don’t feel whatever this is between us,” 

He gets a little more confident when you turn to look at him, and in an instant his lips are on yours. It’s soft, but full of need. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, fully turning around in his hold and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. You have to tiptoe a little too reach his lips, and the realization makes Jisung laugh.

When you pull away, you look at him. Lips swollen, hair a little messed up at the nape where you decided to thread your fingers through it. You felt fireworks go off when you looked into his eyes. You were right, the two of you definitely weren’t just friends.

“Let’s head home, yeah?” you ask him, and you’ve never seen him move so fast. Taking your hand, he leads you through the crowd. You say your goodbyes to whoever you can find, most of the guys off somewhere in the party. The two of you miss the look Seungmin gives to Jeongin at the sight of your hands intertwined, and Jeongin groans as he pulls $5 out of his wallet.

_____________________________

By the time Jisung leads you into your own apartment, the excitement has built up so much that you feel like you could burst. Pushing you up against the door once inside, Jisung can’t keep his hands off of you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you like this..” He says as he presses another hot kiss to your lips. You make a move to lift his shirt, and he lets you. You’ve seen Jisung shirtless a hundred times, but looking at him like this, you were absolutely sure that there was nowhere you wanted to be more right now, than underneath him. 

You’re surprised at your own boldness as you push him towards the direction of your bedroom. He gets the hint and grabs your thighs. “Jump,” he says, and you comply. He lifts you up and carries you through the apartment, hands roaming your thighs and your ass as he tries to navigate the apartment with your lips on his neck. 

Setting you on the bed softly, Jisung is immediately on top of you. His hands are all over you, trying to get you out of your clothes as fast as possible. Once your shirt is off and your skirt is pushed up, he fumbles with the zipper in the back and groans when notices the matching lavender set you’re wearing. Purple was never his favorite color until this exact moment.

The feeling of his hands on you, warm and safe and protective, sets a fire in you that had been long overdue. You arch your back when his hands move to your breasts, fingers roaming over the fabric and looking up at you for approval. You nod your head and he takes the piece of clothing off. His lips attach to your nipple and you have to hold in a whimper at the sensation.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, I swear on my life,” he mutters, and your cheeks blush at such a soft compliment in such an intimate setting. Your mind is already going hazy, the soft touches he’s giving you are good but nowhere near enough.

“Jisung please..please touch me,” you ask. He looks you in the eyes and grins, slowly making his way down your body. “I thought you would never ask,” he says as he licks a long line up your slit. Your hands fly to his hair, feeling the soft tresses in your fingers as he takes you somewhere you’ve never been before. “God, Jisung s-so good,” you say in between moans. It spurs him on, enough to insert a finger into your core. The added friction makes the knot in your stomach tighten, and before you know it, you’re desperately begging Jisung to make you cum.

He adds another finger and his lips find your clit, sucking on it as if his life depended on it. His fingers hit a spot inside of you that makes your vision go white, and the only thing you can think to say is his name as your first orgasm rushes over you. Once he’s made sure that you’ve ridden out your high, he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, licking them clean. 

Jisung comes back up and kisses you harshly, full of passion and lust. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth. You pull on the belt of his jeans, realizing he hasn’t taken them off yet. 

Pushing him onto the bed, you climb on top of him and help him with his jeans. The sight of you on top of Jisung has him unbelievably hard, and he’s sure he’s in heaven when your hands make contact with his cock. Putting your hands on his chest, you watch as Jisung helps you align his cock with your entrance. You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling. He stretched you in just the right ways, and you can’t help but think that this is the way it’s always supposed to be. The two of you, together. 

“Fuck, I love you,” you say without thinking, and Jisung pauses. The look in his eyes is definite: Absolutely sure and absolutely in love. He pulls you down and holds you close as he begins to move inside of you. His lips find your neck, whispering sweet nothings against you as his pace begins to pick up.

Before you know it, Jisung is fucking up into you at a wild pace, a clear contrast to the praises he’s saying in his ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby.. You were made for me. I love you so much.” He says, and that’s enough to feel the coil tighten in you for the second time. You push your lips against his, effectively swallowing every noise you make as you reach your high. Jisung is moving even faster, if possible, and the grip he has on your waist is so strong you’re sure it’s going to leave bruises in the morning. The only thing you can think of is the way Jisung is saying your name, desperate and wanton. 

The sensitivity from your second orgasm has you clenching around Jisung, and that’s when he loses it. One hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you into a kiss filled with every emotion he ever needed to feel. You feel him fill you up and sigh, warm and content. 

The two of you stay there for a moment; relishing in the way you feel wrapped around each other. You roll off of Jisung to lay beside him on the bed, and his arm wraps around your waist, not wanting to be away from you for even a moment. You giggle at how messy his hair looks and take a piece of it between your fingers.

“You know, I meant every word I said to you,” he says softly as he looks into your eyes. “I know you did. And I love you. I love you so much, Han Jisung,” you say. He sighs almost in relief, and he can confirm that this moment, right here, is the happiest that he’s ever felt. After years of all the unspoken words, ghosting touches and what ifs, you were finally his. “I love you too. More than anything.” he says as he pulls you close. 

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed. And that next morning, when you do wake up and see Jisung laying next to you, the feeling is magnified by tens of thousands. The way the sun is catching on his face makes him glow, and when he pulls you into him with the promise of “5 more minutes,” you don’t refuse. 

Masterlist

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.5)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Robbery, Smoking

The smoke from the three burnt out blunts fogged the car. Erik’s head hung low as he tried to focus on the topic of discussion. Looking to his right he watched as Durk sparked a lighter to light up the fourth one and started a new rotation. Taking it from his hand Erik put the blunt to his lips and pulled. He had to admit that he was feeling high but yet nowhere near done with the session.

It was a Monday morning. Almost ten am to be exact. They were parked in Erik’s car in front of Frank’s Auto Garage. To a normal person it look like a regular place of business but it wasn’t. Durk used the shop to clean his money so he wouldn’t have anything tracing back to him. Erik glanced up and watched two corner boys walk out with a backpack each before getting into their vehicle and driving off.

“Aye man I appreciate you for coming through with this assignment. Once I get this nigga Shawn out the way I could finally do some business with the new connect.” Durk spoke before inhaling the blunt.

Nodding his head Erik slouched in his seat.

“I told you it’s nothing. Just don’t forget I’ma need one person to come with me. Someone who can watch my back.”

After going into almost two years without doing a job Erik felt a little rusty. He wanted to be certain that he could bring someone with him who could look out. Someone who he could trust that had to be skilled enough to keep up. The last thing Erik wanted was for this to go wrong and he end up in prison or even worst, dead.

If it was any other person coming to him to offer him work Erik would decline them with a quickness. This wasn’t something that he wanted to be a part of anymore. He had aspirations to become a better man. And with that, that means he had to give up the lifestyle to live a better one. But it was Durk. The man who had the opportunity to gun him down right in front of the trap house when they first met five years ago spared him. Gave him a second chance.

Erik witness Durk do way worst to people who didn’t do nearly as half as much compared to what Erik was going to commit that night. So he felt in a way obligated to come through for his best friend. There was no other option. He owe him his life.

“No doubt. Actually I got this one associate that’s in debt with me. Told him I could use his help whenever I needed him to pay me off. Heard he a shooter that don’t miss. Anybody who have your back I think it’ll be him.” Durk grinned confidently.

Erik nodded his head absorbing the information. Trusting his brother with whatever choice he went with he continue to ask him where the drop would be.

“Okay so what about this nigga Shawn. You got an address.”

Durk pulled out his burner. Going to a text message he clicked on it and passed the phone over to Erik.

He read over it. 4523 Lanely Rd. Pulling up his notes icon Erik typed in the address and saved the information. He gave the burner back to Durk. Realizing the area that it was in Erik shook his head. Nice suburban area where it was mostly Caucasian which amount to one thing. Nosy ass neighbors. It was a risk but he would just have to deal with it.

Hearing Durk sighed he studied him. His hands was rested over his eyes as he was leaned back in the chair. His boy looked stressed.

“You good?” A genuine tone came out.

“I think my sister fucking around with someone but I just don’t know who yet.”

Erik’s eyebrows lifted up. Glancing up to the ceiling as he listened carefully.

“I just really hope it’s not one of these fuck niggas. I might need yo ass for another job after this. We could rob this nigga together.”

The two chuckled.

‘Damn I can’t rob myself.’

Erik thought to himself before engaging back in the conversation.

“What makes you think she fucking with someone?” Erik curiously wanted to know. It would give him an advantage on what he should not be doing.

“Well the other night I walk in the livingroom and there she was sitting there with her titties all out, make up done like she was getting ready for a dick appointment or sum shit.” Durk replied in a stressful tone.

Daydreaming at the ceiling, Erik’s memory jogged back to her outfit from that night. He could still see the way her cleavage appeared in front of him as she sat across from him in the diner. The soft flesh looking at him. He had to control himself multiple times that night from staring at them so much. But he couldn’t with the way they would bounce a little every time she laughed.

Speaking of her smile. Erik adored that about her the most. He love how her lips curled up showing off those pretty white teeth. The way her lipgloss color made her lips appear more fuller than what they already were. The same lips that drove him crazy from the softness. If he could sit in the booth kissing her all night he would have. That was enough to satisfy him. Erik sucked in his bottom lip as if he could still feel hers on his. She just had to let him get a taste.

‘Why she let me do that?’

Erik berated himself with that question as he shook his head about his lack of self control. He felt guilty. He was the nigga who his best friend was worried about hurting his sister. Right now he was feeling like a pussy. It was like he didn’t have the balls to speak up and tell him the truth. He was feeling Amiyah.

“Why you don’t like her dating anyway? I get you trying to protect her but I mean she is 21, you can’t stop her from living bro.” Erik wanted to sound reasonable but without suspicion.

“I know she got a life to live but the fact that mine is tied up with hers don’t help.”

“What you mean?”

Durk paused glancing at his phone. “ I mean besides you I can’t trust none of these niggas man. What if whoever she talk to know that she my little sister? No telling what they’ll do to her just to get to me.”

Erik listened understanding his perspective.

“I done did some foul shit out here that I’m not proud of, you know this. This why I am what I am because if I don’t get them first then I know for damn sure they’ll try to get me. I’m just worry about Amiyah getting caught in between.”

To Erik it seem like Durk just wanted was best for his sister. To him family came first. It was important to him. He valued it and would do anything to protect the ones he love. Erik comprehend this.

“You worried she won’t be able to know who and who not to trust?”

“Every-fucking-day. That’s why I don’t want her going anywhere besides home and work. I just want the best for her.”

“You should that’s your sister. Just trust her. She not gon let you down.”

Durk looked at Erik, who gave him a sincere look. If there was anybody else he could trust with his life aside from Amiyah it was his friend. His brother. Erik.

____________________________

Amiyah leaned against the register as she wrote down her completed work assignment. Blowing the air out of her mouth she let the pen fall from her fingers and on to the counter. She was exhausted and ready to clock out and lay in her bed. Her mind began to wonder about the events that transpired over the weekend.

The last time she spoke to Erik was after he dropped her off. He sent a text asking if she made it in safely and that was it. Nothing else since then. His on and off again of inconsistency irritated her. She wanted him to be all about her just as much as she was for him. Of course under the circumstances they had to be cautious but he didn’t have to go another two days without hitting her up.

Checking the time on her Apple Watch she had an hour left before she was up and out of the boutique. She started cleaning certain areas and rehanging the merchandise back onto the racks to make time go by faster. Hearing the sound of the bell ring brought her back to reality.

“Welcome to Bella Ella’s.” She greeted them without looking up and only focusing on her task out of habit.

“Thank you. Hey girl!”

Peering in the direction of the voice she saw Alexis. She was going through the dress section. Amiyah sighed inwardly before walking over to her.

“Hi welcome back. Can I help you look for anything?” She faked a smile.

“Yes actually, I’m looking for something the same as last time just not too revealing this time. I want to tease him. You know?” Alexis sent her a smirk as she walked in front of one of the mannequins observing the clothes.

Hesitant but curious Amiyah asked her. “For another date?”

“Uh you can say something like that. It’s a surprise.” Alexis eyed her up and down.

“Well we have this ruched bodycon dress. It’s an off the shoulder long sleeve lace type of look. I think it’ll fit you. Check it out.” She handed her the dress.

Alexis put the dress up to her frame. Looking in the mirror she smiled at the choice of clothing. Shaking her head she grinned pointing her finger at Amiyah.

“See girl you get me. It’s crazy. Almost like we like the exact same thing.”

“You can say that again.” Amiyah whispered under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh I was just talking to myself. If you’re ready I can ring you out.”

They walked to the counter. Amiyah logged in and scanned the dress. Folding it up and putting it a bag she heard Alexis speak.

“Girl how do you do it?”

“Do what?” Amiyah answered confused.

“Work a nine to five. I mean don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just that I personally wouldn’t do it.” She smiled.

“ I like working honestly. I get to meet new people. I have fun here sometimes. This is where I met my best friend and I get to get away from home.” Amiyah shrugged her shoulders as she spoke truthfully.

Alexis nodded slowly. “Right. So are you seeing anyone? Anybody caught your attention?”

Laughing lightly Amiyah shook her head. “No. I met this one guy and gave him my number but nothing popped off yet.” She was talking about Cane.

“Hm if that don’t work out you should let me hook you up. I know a few niggas that’ll blow ya back out and then pay ya bills after.” Alexis grabbed her bag and started to walk away.

Before she could stop herself the question came out faster than she expected. “Is that what you do?”

She stopped midway before turning back around. Her face was contorted. Sizing Amiyah up as she stepped in front of the counter.

“Bitch I do whatever the fuck I have to do to get what I want. Even if it mean that I have to fuck around here and there. It keeps my bills paid and my nails from getting dirty. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.” She gave her one last look before she strutted out the shop.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. Taking a ‘How to get a man’ class from Alexis was the last thing on her list. Girls like her and Amiyah don’t mix too well. She just couldn’t understand how you could trade in time spent on a fake relationship just to get what you want with true happiness.

Her shift was finally coming to an end. Amiyah sent her brother a text fifteen minutes early just so he would be on time to pick her up. Looking towards the entrance her coworker Kacy was coming in to relieve her.

“Hey Kace, it was pretty much a slow day so there’s not any go-backs that you have to do. I would just try to act like you’re cleaning up. Look busy because you know Rhonda be watching the cameras.”

They both laughed.

“I know. She think she slick but go ahead and get out of here. Enjoy the rest of the day. See ya Amiyah.”

Waving goodbye Amiyah exited the boutique. There she spotted her brother waiting outside in his all blacked out Audi A4. She strolled in his direction and got in.

“Wow it’s been forever since you’ve been here on time.” She teased fastening her seatbelt.

Durk kissed his teeth as he pulled off driving to their home. “How was work?”

“Boring I do the same thing everyday.”

“So quit.” He took a quick glance at her.

She sighed irritated. “I’m not quitting my job Durk.”

“You the one who said it’s boring. Just quit.” He laughed.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. “Why? So you can keep your eyes on me 24/7. You always trying to babysit me, damn.” She snapped at him. The mood changed instantly.

Durkio’s jaw clenched as he turned looking at her with his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Babysit you? Where the fuck you get me trying to babysit you from telling you to quit-“

“I know that’s what your intentions are! Not that you care about me not liking my job but because you just want me to have to depend on you and ask you for everything!” Amiyah’s voice kept getting higher with every word.

“Miyah you already depend on me. That two thousand dollar bed that you sleeping on I brought that. Your whole bedroom set, I brought it. The apartment that you living in comfortablely without worry about having to pay one muthafuckin bill, is because of ME!”

Durkio’s hand gripped the steering wheel tightly as he parked in front of their building. He could feel his breathing began to spike as he felt himself get more agitated and angry. Getting out of the car he headed towards the entrance to avoid going any further with her.

Amiyah jumped out and followed closely behind going inside. The elevator ride going to their floor was quiet and tensed. Amiyah tried her best to not argue with her brother but she had more to get off her chest that she didn’t want to go unheard.

“You know you’re a fuckin control freak.” She slammed her purse and jacket on the couch one they made it threw the door.

Durk paused his steps from going into his room.

“How? Tell me what I do Amiyah.” He walked leaning against the counter with his hand folded over the other waiting for her to talk.

“Durk stop playing dumb. Everything that I do you have to be a part of somehow. Like the time I couldn’t take the job offer from the mall because it was ‘too far’. Or how whenever I want to hangout with Kelley you think I’m going to fuck some man-“

“That’s because you are! I know Saturday night you ain’t go out with no fucking Kelley dress the way you were. I’m not fucking stupid Amiyah.”

Amiyah got in his face. “Why would I go fuck someone and I’m still a virgin Derrick. I’m not dumb. I’m not just sleeping with any and everyone.”

Her eyes burned with tears threatening to fall.

Durk used his forearm to move her out of his space. It triggered him whenever someone would walk up to him with disrespect. He knew he would never put his hands on his sister but he didn’t want to feel the urge like he would so he gave her a light push.

“Miyah back the fuck up.” His jaws were tensed and his nostrils became flared out.

“So you can speak your mind but I can’t? I’m not your girl Durk so stop putting rules and regulations on me like I am. I wish our parents were still here so I wouldn’t have to be in this shit hole of a place you call home.”

Amiyah’s blood was boiling. She spoke without thinking. She let her emotions get to the best of her before she could calm down to try and talk to her brother like the young adults they were. But it was too late. She’d gone too far.

Durk shook his head before releasing a dark chuckle.

“You an ungrateful ass bitch, you know that?” His voice spoke lowly but loud enough for her to hear.

Amiyah looked at him in disbelief as the tears came down her face.

“I had to put my life on hold to take care of you. I put myself at risk everyday just to make sure you’re taken care of. So that you won’t have to go out there doing anything you didn’t want to do just to put food in your mouth and clothes on your back. And this how you show some fuckin appreciation?”

He looked at her confused.

“Durk I do appreciate-“

“Get the fuck out my crib.” His voice spoke coldly.

“What?” She unfolded her arms before she walked towards him.

“You heard what I said. By the time I get back you better be gone. Good luck supporting yourself with that weak ass job.”

With that being the last thing spoken to her he brushed past her shoulder and left. Amiyah waited in the same spot hoping that her brother would come back and just tell her to forget this whole argument. But he didn’t.The tears that she thought she had control of were now cascading down her face nonstop.

“What the fuck did I just do!” She scolded herself as her hands covered her face.

She walked to her room. Pushing her door opened her eyes scouted around the room taking in all of her belongings. Where would she go? What could she take? How much could she take without having a vehicle of her own?

Walking over to her bed she sat in silence. She had to think. She had to find away to get her out of the mess that she put herself in. Picking up her phone she dialed the number of the only person she could run to without judgment.

“Hey, Kelley.”

_______________________________________

Erik rolled up to Frank’s Auto Garage. It was time for him to go on the mission. His attire was all black to make himself easily invisible in the shadows. Getting out and walking to his trunk he popped it opened and lifted his secret compartment befor grabbing a duffel bag.

Closing the trunk behind he locked it using his key fob and walked to the front door. He banged four times doing the code knock before he was invited in. One of Durks look out men opened the door.

“Oh shit, what’s good E. You working tonight?”

Giving a silent head nod of approval Erik dapped him up.

“Ok. Well boss is in management. I don’t know what’s going on but he definitely not in the mood. Tread lightly man.”

Taking note Erik walked to the room where Durk was. When he reached it he saw him sitting at his desk talking to someone that he never seen before. Erik tapped lightly on the door making his presence known.

Durk eyes shifted up. “Erik what’s good? Why you knocking? You my brother, you know you ain’t gotta do that.”

“Didn’t wanna interrupt. What’s good? How you doing?” Erik gave him dap with a hug. When they pulled apart he looked in his eyes trying to find an answer. Durk was hiding something.

“Yeah I’m straight. But I want you to meet the person who gon be going with you tonight.” He replied quickly before walking back to his desk.

The guy that sat there quietly got up from his seat. From Erik’s view he didn’t look too much younger than him. He seen his attire matched his as he seen that the young dude already had some leather gloves and a ski mask rested on his head.

Erik gave him a fist pump. “What’s up, I’m Erik.”

“Cane. Nice to meet you bro.”

Durk watched the two interact before interrupting.

“Alright it’s almost 3am. Just got word that nigga Shawn was at the club,which should be closing now. If y’all make it to the address before him-“

“That’ll give us time to find an area to stakeout and then bum-rush him. Catch him off guard.” Cane spoke.

Durk turned to look at Erik before smirking giving him a ‘I told you’ look.

“Exactly. Listen just make sure y’all get the M and dip.” He was referring to the million dollars stashed away.

“I know how this go. Just make sure this nigga straight before we go out there. You know what you doing lil nigga?” Erik questioned Cane.

He kissed his lips. “Look man this ain’t my first rodeo and if I didn’t know what I was doing I’m sure ya boy wouldn’t be calling me.”

“Whoa nigga you owe me a solid. Don’t act like I need you.” Durk stepped in to check him.

Cane waved the two off.

“Aight I trust ya judgment Durk but if shit hit the ceiling, you bailing me out nigga.”

Durk laughed. “Nigga get fuck and go get my money.”

They dapped one last time and Erik left with Cane trailing behind him. He went up to a shelf that had multiple sets of keys sitting on it. Erik grabbed one before walking to the back. There were five different cars out there. He hit the unlock button on the key fob that led him to a dark burgundy Toyota. It was the getaway car for the night. Erik never used his own when he had to do jobs.

He opened the back door and place the duffel bag in the bag. It had two Beretta M9’s, an Ak-47, as well as a roll of duck tape and rope in case the situation went left. Erik got in the driver side. He heard Cane slipping in the passenger seat as he place the address in. It would take them 37 minutes to get there.

Glancing at the clock it was now 2:24 am which gave them plenty of time to find a place for a hideout. Entering the highway Erik and Cane rode in a comfortable silence. Cane every now and then giving Erik a quick glance over before turning his head.

Some time had past when they noticed that they were arriving in the neighborhood of the house where Shawn stayed. The houses were a few yards away from each other but Erik knew that they would still be able to hear the sound of a gun if one went off.

“If you park on this side that bush will be a blind spot. That nigga won’t be able to see us when he pull up.” Cane pointed to the area.

Erik shook his head in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Pulling into the spot Erik parked the vehicle and shut it off. The light from one of the houses landscape slightly shined in the car to make it possible for them to see each other as they waited.

“So you the infamous Erik I heard about. Ya name got some clout to it with all them licks you did when you was coming up.” Cane broke the silence.

Ignoring his comment Erik reached in the back unzipping the duffel and taking out one of the Berettas. He began to load the clip.

“I never thought I see the day where I would be doing a job with you. Heard you was one hard ass nigga”

Chuckling Erik stopped to face Cane. “What you want an autograph or something. Damn nigga you sound like a fan.”

Cane smacked his lips and then laughed.“Aight you got it. But nah I’m just showing respect to an OG.”

“I don’t look that much older than you.”

“Still one of the OG’s.” Cane showed him respect.

“I appreciate the courtesy. I heard some good things about you as well.” Erik was referring to his previous conversation with Durk.

Cane shrugged. “I do a lil sumn.”

Reaching in the back Erik pulled out the Ak-47 and handed it to him.

“So then you should be able to handle this then.” He was testing him.

“What! This is personally my favorite. This thing could make any nigga dance.”

Erik laughed watching the thrill of excitement in Canes eyes. He reminded him of himself when he was first getting started. Ready and down for everything.

The headlights of a Cadillac SUV caught their attention. It was Shawn pulling up. They watched as he hopped out the driver side.

“Heard this nigga keep one on him. You think he gon try and pull it.” Cane took the safety off of the AK. He was talking about his piece.

“I don’t give a fuck what that nigga got. He better not flinch.” Erik pulled the mask over his face. He watched Shawn walk to his passenger side and opened the door.

“Oh shit! This nigga got a bitch with him.” Cane blurted out.

“Plans don’t change. It is what it is.” Erik spoke truthfully. He had to get the job done.

Cane nodded his head and pulled his mask down. They watch Shawn walk to the front door with the girl following close by. Three minutes later the couple went inside the house.

Erik and Cane exited the vehicle making their way onto the front lawn. Staying away from the security lights they crept on the side. There was a side door that they found that lead right into the kitchen. Peaking through the crack of the blinds Erik spotted the two in livingroom sitting on the couch facing the opposite way.

“Let me pick this lock.” Cane bent down to eye level with it. It took him nothing but a minute to get it open.

Quietly Erik turned the knob and entered. Both him and Cane slowly tipped toe to the livingroom putting a gun to both of their heads. Erik had Shawn and Cane had the girl.

“If you want you and your girl to make it to see another day I suggest you to comply with my instructions and not try anything stupid.” Erik threatened as he cocked the gun.

Shawn froze in his seat as the girl next to him started to scream. Cane hopped over the couch and snatched her up by the arm.

“Bitch shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in yo head. You know what get against the wall and stare at that muthafucka.” He pushed her towards the wall.

“Y’all niggas know who I am?” Shawn finally spoke up.

“Yeah nigga. Why else you think we here? We just want the money. It’s simple.” Erik negotiated with him. He pulled him off the couch by his shirt.

“I don’t know what you talkin-“ He was interrupted by Cane hitting him in the mouth with the butt of his gun.

“Nigga quit fuckin playing with us. Run that shit.”

Erik shook his head but smirked. This was one reckless ass dude and he liked it.

The girl screamed again. Erik could hear the terror in her voice. It sounded like she was going to cry.

“You got five minutes to give us that money or you and ya bitch die. Which one is it? Yo life or some dead presidents”

Cane started to run the show and Erik let him as he sat back and watched.

“Aight nigga. It’s in the fucking safe.” Shawn spit the blood out of his mouth.

“Lead the way then bitch.” Cane pushed him and followed him to the back.

Erik was left alone with the girl who was facing the wall. From behind she had a bad ass body. Gazing over her wardrobe she was Burberry down and her fire red locks fell down her back. He kept glancing back and forth between the dark hallway and her back before Erik finally heard a few words slip out of her lips.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

The moment her voice reached his ears his face scrunched up. Walking up to her he turned her around to face him. Backing up he put his gun down shaking his head with disbelief.

The bitch that Shawn had with him was Alexis.

____________________________

Please excuse any mistakes! I will edit this chapter soon!

Tag-list (If you’re not on it let me know and I’ll add you if you want to be added)

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @mymeira12universe-blog @bellanay

[sapiowoman28]

<rewrite> Chaos Part 1: A sports car

Pairing: Haechan x Noona Ally

Genre: Smut, fluff, the usual

Warnings: Sex, oral (male receiving)

Tags: @nctlover94

If there was any day to shock his friends, a couple of hours before the party of the semester was to happen was the best time for Haechan to do so. They stood at the driveway, slightly shocked, slightly awed, slightly wondering if this was real.

Renjun was the first to speak.

“You bought a car?”

“Yes, and not just any car..” Haechan said, smiling proudly, tapping against said car.

“Yeah. We can see that,” Jaemin said. “You bought an expensive sports car.”

“A very expensive one.” Jeno added, as his girlfriend tried to calculate how long Haechan would take to pay it off.

“I have a question though.” Renjun frowned. “How are you going to afford the monthly instalments?”

Haechan smirked. “I earned some money from investments.”

“That wasn’t much.” Renjun pointed out.

“Enough to pay the downpayment and three months of instalments.”

“And then after that, what?” Jeno’s girlfriend asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, I’ll find some money.” Haechan dismissed their concerned looks. “I always find a way.”

“Why couldn’t you just buy a cheaper car?” Jeno asked. Haechan snorted.

“If Haechan thinks it’d be fine, it’d be fine.” Jaemin said, not entirely convinced himself.

They were at a party at the frat house of the infamous NCT. It was a going away party for some of the seniors in the frat, namely Taeyong, Johnny and Yuta. Just about everyone was there – seniors, freshmen, even a group of former students dropped by. The house was filled to the brim, music blasting (thanks to guest deejay from another frat called Woozi), and booze flowing freely.

Everyone from the gang was there – they even convinced Renjun to come along even though parties were not his thing. He watched everything happening around him with slight disdain, matched only by Jaemin’s girlfriend’s constant eyerolls.

And that was when he first noticed what she was up to.

Her name was Ally and she was a senior from the Fine Arts faculty, so they knew of each other. They acknowledged each other’s presence by raising their red paper cups, and that was that. But as the night progressed, he noticed her stealing glances in the direction of his group.

He had an inkling who she was looking at, but he wanted to confirm his suspicions. He was thinking about doing some investigative work when Jaemin nudged him.

“Ow!” Renjun glared, as Jaemin came a little too close to him.

“That girl in the black dress… standing at the other side with Yuta and his friends….” Jaemin whispered.

“She’s my senior from Fine Arts.” Renjun whispered back, realizing Jaemin had noticed her too.

“My girlfriend and I think she’s been checking Haechan out.” Jaemin grinned.

Renjun shoved Jaemin out of his face, as his eyes continued watching her like a hawk. As Haechan left their group to join Mark and Yang Yang near the entrance of the kitchen, he saw her eyes follow him.

“ha!” Renjun smiled triumphantly. “I knew it!”

“We noticed it first.” Y/N insisted.

“No you didn’t! I did!” Renjun looked ready to fight.

“Shut up guys! She’s walking over. Look normal!” Jaemin warned.

Indeed she was, walking towards them, giving Renjun the warmest smile, except, Renjun saw through her ploy.

“Haechan. His name is Haechan.” Renjun teased as she reached him and her confident face changed.

“Wh..what?” she stuttered.

“You’ve been watching my friend for over an hour now, since you arrived. His name is Haechan. I can introduce you.”

“I just came here to say hi,” she said, clearly lying. The last thing she wanted was to look like she was worming into a group of juniors to hit on one of them.

“You don’t have to be shy. He IS cute.” Renjun teased.

She gave up.

“Is he single?” she asked.

“Very.” Jaemin assured her, looking a little too eager to pimp Haechan.

“He’s very cute.” She said, watching him as he attempted to plant a kiss on Mark who was trying to push him off as Yang Yang laughed hysterically.

Suddenly Mark walked over awkwardly, as if he had been arrowed for a task. The guys started fist pumping in the awkward way they always did, earning yet another eye roll from Jaemin’s girlfriend who didn’t think it was cool.

“Where’s Jeno and his girl?” Mark asked.

“They started making out, and suddenly they left.” giggled Jaemin.

“Listen, I’m here on a mission.” Mark said, turning to Ally.

“A mission?” she looked puzzled.

“You see my friend over there?” Mark gestured at Haechan who waved back from behind Yang Yang timidly. “He’s wondering if he could have your number, except he’s too much of a coward to ask. That’s why he sent me.”

The group broke out into laughter, excitedly telling Mark what had been happening.

Ally sighed. She had enough of it. All she wanted was to know who he was, and perhaps get to know him. The last thing she wanted was additional attention or teasing from a group of juniors. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, she strode over to Haechan who looked absolutely terrified. She was determined to end this nonsense once and for all.

“Give me your phone so that I can key in my number.” She ordered.

Gulping nervously, and still standing behind Yang Yang, Haechan passed her his phone after unlocking it. She quickly typed in her name and number and passed it back to him after locking its screen.

With an evil grin, Yang Yang moved out of the way, pushing Haechan closer towards her before disappearing. She realised she might have come across as intimidating, and relaxed immediately, hoping it’d make him look a little less terrified. He gave her a nervous smile as he slotted his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry about my friends…” Haechan fidgeted uncomfortably. The dude who was cheekily trying to kiss Mark earlier was nowhere to be found.

“It’s ok.” She smiled. “That’s how friends are.”

Haechan relaxed a little.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?” Haechan said almost heaving an audible sigh of relief when she nodded.

He took her upstairs. Typically, the upper floors were only open to the members of the frat. But he stayed over to hang out with Mark so often it didn’t matter to the other guys whenever he went up, alone or with company. They walked past 2 room doors, and when they reached the last door at the end, Haechan opened it and they both went in.

Mark’s room was neat. It wasn’t like that ordinarily of course, Before any party the boys of the frat made an effort to clean up their rooms just in case they got lucky. The last thing any of them wanted was to scare off a girl with how messy their room was.

Haechan led her in, shutting the door behind them., effectively shutting off the din from downstairs.

“So.” he said awkwardly. She giggled.

“Why are you so nervous?” she asked, stroking his cheek. “Are you scared of me?”

“No!” Haechan said, a little too loudly.

“Relax,” she said. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

Haechan felt his cock stir.

She grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him against the door.

“Noona…” he gasped, as her lips landed on his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue against hers. He had been watching her all evening, and so had she, and in their tipsy haze, neither of them wanted to waste any more time.

He started to kiss down her neck, leaving a mark on it, squeezing on her breasts through the fabric of her dress. She was grinding against him, feeling him grow harder and harder. She wanted a piece of him.

“Get your jeans off” she commanded.

He felt her hands unbuckling his belt. Clumsily he started unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down. She knelt down before him, yanking his boxers down, pulling him out. Spitting into her hand, she began stroking it slowly, looking up at Haechan’s flushed face.

“Please,” he begged.

“Please what?” she asked, though she knew what he wanted badly.

“Please suck me, Noona,” he pleaded.

She looked cheekily at him as she gave his head a few kitten licks.

“How do you like that?” she asked teasingly.

“I like it,” he said, breath laboured. "A lot."

“Do you want Noona to put your cock in her mouth?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” he gasp, as she finally relented.

“Noona!” Haechan cried out, looking down at her as she expertly used her tongue and mouth on him. After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing her head, moving his hips against her face. He felt her fingernails grazing his thighs.

Never had he had an older more experienced woman in control, and it certainly was an experience. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, and just as he felt like he was going to come, she stood up.

She hastily removed her underwear from below her dress, throwing it aside and dragging him over to the bed. Pushing him down on it, she climbed on top of him.

“You ok with Noona doing this, baby boy?” she asked in between more kisses. “Do you want to fuck Noona?’

“Yes, please, noona.” He whined, and she chuckled.

“You’re so cute, baby boy.” she said.

Slowly she sank down on him, and let out a sigh of contentment. She began moving on him, grabbing his shirt. He watched the expressions on her face in awe.

He reached out for hips, moving her faster. She let out a loud mew, as the bed creaked noisily under them, threatening to give way. Not that either of them cared.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” she gasped. “You’re so hot.”

“Me too, Noona,” was all he could muster. “Me too.”

Under normal circumstances he would have tried to change positions. But now under her spell, all he could do was watch her. He was so close… so close…

“Haechan?”

“Yes, Noona?”

“I’m close.”

“Me too, Noona. But I want Noona to cum first,” He panted, as he started thrusting his hips upwards more forcefully, earning her squeals of delight. He grabbed her head and brought it closer to him, kissing her passionately, feeling her moan against his mouth.

“Haechan,” she panted after a while. “Noona’s gonna cum.”

He reached out for her clit, stroking it. She stiffened around him, screaming his name in abandon, knowing nobody was going to be able to hear them. As he felt her contract wave after wave around his member, he too came, letting out a loud whine.

She collapsed into his arms and he held her tight, stroking her hair.

“That was wonderful.” He said tenderly. She let out a giggle, kissing his nose.

They stayed in each other's arms in silence for a while, before he broke it.

“You know.. there’s one thing..” he said, somewhat hesitantly.

“What?” she asked.

“You never told me your name.” he said. She started giggling again.

“My name is Ally,” she grinned, pinching his cheek. “But you can call me Noona, baby boy.”

[spencers-renaissance]

100

Summary: Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

Tags: library au, shy spencer, tooth-rotting fluff, flirting, coming out, spencer does not work at the bau

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Read on AO3

Spencer’s working in his favourite corner of the library by 7.35am, stuck straight into his latest research paper while Katherine bustles quietly around the bookshelves, tidying and re-ordering as much as possible before the rush of people pour through the door. She’s probably his favourite opener. She’s calm and efficient and smiles warmly at him but doesn’t engage him in pointless conversation that distracts him from his work, although that’s not to say they haven’t had a few chats here and there. It’s a quiet moment of companionable solitude; the perfect environment for a productive early morning. 

He’s vaguely aware of a gradual increase in patrons, the ambient noise level rising ever so slightly as he pours over copies of an obscure ancient philosophical text he’d obtained from the local museum, annotating furiously as he scrunches his brow in concentration. It’s sucked him in enough that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he’s tapped on the shoulder, whirling around to face probably the most attractive man he’s ever met. Immediately, he flushes red, half from the embarrassment of over-reacting, half from the intensity of the urge to jump this man’s bones. 

“Hi, I’m sorry I made you jump,” the man chuckles, taking a step back to give him a bit of space. “I can’t find any librarians around and I noticed the philosophy textbook you have on your desk and thought you might be able to help me…” He trails off looking a bit awkward and uncomfortable, clearly out of his element. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Spencer says, a little intimidated but still very eager to spend any amount of time with the Greek god he’s just so happened to encounter on a random Tuesday morning. 

“You will?” the man asks, smiling. “Great. Basically my best friend went to an intro to philosophy class at the local community college, one of her many whimsical new projects, and is now obsessed. I was told in no uncertain terms to pick up as many books on the subject as I could before work this morning.” 

“Wow,” Spencer breathes a laugh, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Well, I don’t blame her, philosophy is a great subject. I’m working on my fourth PhD in it now, actually.” 

“What, you have four PhDs in philosophy?” he asks incredulously. 

“No, no,” Spencer smiles, looking down shyly. “My other three are in chemistry, maths, and engineering. This is my first in philosophy. Sorry that was misleading.”

“Looks like I asked the right person, then,” he grins. “I’m Derek.”

“Spencer,” he replies, blushing at the warm look Derek is sending his way. “We’re actually in the classics section, this is just my favourite corner. The philosophy texts are over here.”

He leads the way through the maze of bookshelves, arriving at the little alcove that houses the philosophy and psychology books. With a vague idea of what Derek is looking for, he dives straight into the shelves, combing through the spines until he finds a few options for his friend. “She should probably start with this one: Big Ideas Simply Explained and then move on to Think, which is one of my favourites. This one, How Philosophy Works, will be best if she’s a visual learner instead, and if you want something a bit more complicated, try Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult.” He piles on a few extra as he looks around for any he missed before turning around and gesturing that he’s done. 

“This is… amazing, thank you,” Derek says gratefully. “I don’t even know why she chose philosophy, it’s a bit random for a computer nerd, isn’t it?”

“Actually about 0.58% of all US college students graduate with a philosophy degree, so it’s not as uncommon as people may think. It’s the 89th most popular major according to last year’s data, but I don’t know the statistics for people with computer science degrees or careers learning about philosophy in an official or unofficial capacity, I’m afraid,” Spencer explains, hands moving expressively as he reels off his statistics. 

The mildly impressed expression that’s been pretty permanently painted on Derek’s face the whole time he’s been speaking with Spencer intensifies as he listens intently to his statistics. “Damn, pretty boy, you really know your stuff,” he marvels, eyes wide. “You some sort of genius or something?”

Spencer blushes furiously at that, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

“No, that 100% qualifies for genius status,” Derek asserts confidently. “Not that I have any sort of qualification to rule on the matter, but in my eyes you are definitely a genius.”

“Thank you,” Spencer murmurs, blush somehow deepening at the unexpected praise from the man who will now occupy his dreams. “You seem pretty smart, too, though. What do you do?”

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Damn it. As if he couldn’t get any sexier. “Wow, that’s… impressive,” Spencer remarks. “Does your friend work there, too?”

“Yeah, she’s our technical analyst,” Derek explains, smiling fondly. “She’s amazing, you’d love her.”

“Well we’ve already got one shared interest,” Spencer points out, gesturing to the books piled high in Derek’s arms. Spencer would’ve collapsed by now, but he’s barely flinching under the weight of seven bulky philosophy texts. 

“That’s true,” Derek grins. “Speaking of work, though, pretty boy, I have to run, I’m already late. Thank you so much for your help, though.”

“No problem,” Spencer says softly, definitely not mournfully, as he watches Derek walk away to the check-out desk where Katherine smiles at him as he scans the books through, sending a discreet wink over at Spencer. He glares back jokingly before walking back over to his desk.

He continues working but he can’t help but feel emptiness sinking heavy in his stomach, the kind of a missed opportunity, of almost, of could have been. Immanuel Kant still gets his attention, but he’d be lying if he said that a decent portion of it wasn’t focused on hoping, praying that his path crosses with Derek again, that he’s not replaying every moment over and over in his mind.

⭐️

Derek is very late. He rushes into the briefing room where Penelope is already explaining the case to the team. Rolling his eyes at her pointed look, he dumps the books down on the table in front of her. “Don’t blame me, baby girl, doing your chores is what made me late,” he protests, taking a seat next to Emily. 

“Well, maybe you should have been quicker,” Penelope quips, before promptly moving on with the case at Hotch’s pointed glare. 

He barely has a moment to think about anything but double homicide until they’re mid-flight and the debriefing is finally over. Moving to the back of the plane, he looks out the window as he plays over the morning’s trip to the library. Spencer might just be the prettiest boy he’s ever met, and making him blush is probably the most fun he’s had all week. Bonus points for intelligence, of course, even after spending just a few minutes with him, he could confidently say he was a walking encyclopedia. 

On the drive from the library to Quantico, he’d thought about finding some ruse to go back the next day. Spencer seemed as though he knew the library well, like he spent a lot of time there. Maybe he could go back and actually ask for his number this time; he was gonna take that boy out on a date if it’s the last thing he does. Now, though, that’s going to have to wait.

“Alright,” Emily sighs, flopping into the seat opposite him and dragging him out of his head, “what’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?” Derek asks reflexively, feeling a little defensive. 

“Well you were late this morning, not unusual, but you’re not listening to music and instead choosing to stare pensively out the window. Plus, you barely had anything to contribute during debriefing,” she explains, raising an eyebrow. 

“Drop it,” he says, sending her a look, but it’s teasing and light-hearted.

“Oh my God, there’s a girl,” she gasps. “And not just any girl, you like her!”

“There absolutely is not,” he says truthfully, raising an eyebrow. He’s not exactly out to the team, not out of fear of how they’ll react but more because he finds coming out awkward and he’s never found the right time, really. 

“Suit yourself,” Emily teases, pulling out her phone to play online scrabble.

Derek just scoffs and looks out the window again, definitely not letting his thoughts wander back to Spencer. Definitely not. 

⭐️

Spencer walks into the library the following Monday with low expectations. He’d thought that Derek might come back in last week, if not to see him then maybe to return his friend’s books or find more for her, but his wish had been unsuccessful. Accepting that it was a chance encounter that would ultimately go nowhere, and reminding himself that Spencer Reid’s life was decidedly not like the movies, he unpacks his papers from his messenger bag in his favourite corner again and gets back to work. He’s over the moon with the headway he’s making on his paper, and he settles in for another productive morning of work. 

Just like last time, Derek creeps up on him while he’s completely in the zone, slipping into the seat opposite him, but at least Spencer doesn’t jump this time. No, he just feels his face immediately brighten, looking far too excited to see a near-stranger again. 

“Good morning, pretty boy,” he grins, laughing fondly at Spencer’s reaction. 

“Derek, you came back,” he says happily, putting down his pen. 

“Yeah, I had a case immediately after I came to the library last Tuesday and it was a tough one. We only wrapped it up yesterday so I have today off, a rare luxury,” he explains, and Spencer tries not to read into it too much, tries not to think that Derek is saying he would’ve come back sooner if he could, tries to take him at face value. 

“The exciting life of an FBI agent.”

“Not as glamorous as the movies,” Derek agrees.

“I’m, uh- glad you came back,” Spencer admits shyly, afraid of coming on too strong.

“Well, would you like to get dinner sometime?” Derek asks.

“Really?” Spencer asks, looking up at Derek with shock written across his face.

“Of course,” Derek chuckles. “I mean, I love Penelope, but if she wants more philosophy books she can get them herself. I came back to see you.” 

“You did?” Spencer’s still a little floored by Derek’s words, but slowly a warmth starts to bloom inside him as he realises what’s happening. 

“I did,” Derek smiles gently. “Now, about that date. How does tonight sound?” 

⭐️

Derek decides on his favourite Italian place to treat Spencer at and his cheeks hurt by the end of the night; he’s pretty sure not one moment went by when he wasn’t smiling fondly at his statistics or stories or blushing. He slips his hand into Spencer’s as they walk out of the restaurant, swinging their arms a bit, directing them down the street towards the 24/7 ice cream parlour.

“I love ice cream,” Spencer grins as they head inside, his cheeks red from the cold winter air and the copious red wine they’d had with dinner. 

“Who doesn’t?” Derek asks, leading him up to the counter. 

Spencer insists on sampling far too many flavours before deciding on cookies and cream with mint chocolate chip in a cone. He licks at it happily while Derek sits opposite with two scoops of raspberry ripple in a cup and forces himself to think very pure thoughts. 

“Thank you for this, Derek,” he beams over his cone.

“Oh, pretty boy,” Derek says fondly. “Thank you.”

Emily spots it the minute he walks into the bullpen the next day. “I’m guessing things are going well with her,” she smirks as she skids over on her chair, grinning wildly. 

He sighs as he sits down, looking up at her as he sets his stuff down. “With him, yes,” he confirms, smiling a little. 

She raises her eyebrows and pauses for a moment. “Wow, okay, okay,” she says. “Well, I hope I can meet him soon.” 

“Might be a bit early for that yet, Em,” he laughs, “but if things go as well as I think they will, that’s definitely on the cards.” 

(Five months later, when Spencer finally does meet Emily, she’s as annoying as Derek expects her to be but seeing his boyfriend’s face light up as he gets welcomed in the found family of the BAU is worth every drop of teasing, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.)

[ciderxi]

Deal-Wooyoung

Pairing; Wooyoung x reader

Genre: Smut, Enemies

Warnings: Smut 

Word Count: 1.4k

You looked up at him, giving him big dowey eyes as you sat on your knees in front of him. Doing your best to ignore the tent he had pitched in his pants. "Do I really have to do this?" Wooyoung continued to play with your hair as you stalled what you both knew was bound to happen. "Of course not, you could always just pay to repair Hongjoong's laptop yourself" you sighed as you realized you having a drink anywhere near Hongjoong's stuff was a bad idea in the first place, considering what a clumsy fuck you were. Quickly getting lost in thought, ending up just staring mindlessly into nowhere.

Wooyoung gently raised your chin up to look at him, biting his bottom lip as he waited in anticipation. "Or, i can just pay for in, in exchange for our little deal"

"I hate you" you whined, crossing your arms, covering your chest.

"And yet you're still going to fuck me~" lust dripping from the end of his words, caressing your check, gently nugging you to the pulsing heat in his pants.

You groaned softly, reaching to the hem of his sweatpants, and pulling it down, immediately getting slapped in the face by his springing cock. You look at it in shock, wiping precum from your cheek,

"If you're just going to stare with your mouth open, i might just half to help myself~"

You leaned in slowly, giving a short lick to his red tip. Wooyoung's body shivered in delight, gripping the wall in front of him to stabilize himself. You cocked your head back at his reaction, seeing how that little lick forced such a reaction out of him. "It's not a fucking lolipop Y/n" he growled, quickly recomposing his dominant demeanor. His fingers quickly entangled them in your hair, nugging you closer to his throbbing tip.

Hesitantly, you looked up at him, making sure to maintain eye contact, and slowly took the tip into your mouth. Letting out a low hum as you worked your way down. Wooyoung let out a soft quiet moan, his hips subconsciously thrusting towards you.

You groaned softly feeling him force his dick towards the back of your throat

This immediately gave you a boost of confidence. If he was going to make you blow him, then you were going to make sure you brought him to his knees. You pushed him back slightly, taking back control. Immediately going halfway down on his rather large dick, causing you to gag slightly "Fuck.." Wooyoung moaned, the eye contact almost driving him to the edge, almost.

With each bob of your head, you took him deeper and deeper, until you felt his tip graze the back of your throat. you choked slightly, gagging around his cock as your eyes started to water. you didn't dare stop though, Wooyoung's moans being too much encouragement to do so. "Y/n stop being such a-Arghh" his words being cut a guttural moan leaving his lips

You only moaned in defiance, sucking him harder. you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, reveling in the drawn out groan you elicited from him. wanting to hear more of that, you set yourself into work mode; you're head bobbing faster, sucking harder, moaning every now and again to send shockwaves through his body. He let out a low growl as he pulled your head away from his cock, forcing you to face him. "You think you can control me with that pretty mouth of yours, but you can't" he gave you a wink, leaving you confused as he pulled up his pants, and practically dragged you to his bedroom.

He threw you onto the bed, wasting no time to climb on top of you, removing your skirt, tossing it to the side along with your now soaked panties. "You're so wet, and I haven't even touched you. Let's see how you like it" You barely had time to register what was going on as he moved his face between your legs, tossing your legs onto his shoulders. as he fell to his knees, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He stared down hungrily t you, before darting his tongue between your drenched lower lips.

You felt your breathing hitch as the warm sensation filled you with pleasure. "Wooyo-" you words being cut off with a loud moan. Wooyoung wasted no time before immediately letting his tongue explore every inch his tongue could reach. Licking up every bit of your arousal. Your hand immediately went to tug on his hair, letting moans flow freely as his tongue moved in waves. Causing your hips to buckle in immense pleasure. " Wooyoung I'm going to cum!" you cried out in desperation, hips bucking against his tongue. Feeling your stomach churning, moments away from orgasm.

Wooyoung pulled away from your lower lips, causing you to whine desperately. "Wooyoung, please I want to cum"

"The only thing you're going to be cumming on is my dick"

Wooyoung looked at your needy expression, making slow work of taking off his pants, he wanted you to beg for it.

You watched as he slowly began removing his pants, cock springing up, ready to pound into you. "Wooyounngg, stop teasing me and fuck me"

"No please?"

"Pleaseeee" you begged, wiggling your hips, needing him inside of you

Wooyoung climbed on top of you, pressing his tip against your needy entrance. Thrusting right below it, making you you knew he was in charge. "I'll go when I say so, not when you want to~" he cooed into your ear. He slipped the tip inside, causing you to moan, wrapping your legs around you. He laughed as he immediately removed himself from your entrance, causing your mind to search for desperate measures.

"If you won't fuck me, then maybe San or Yeosang will" you teased, sending him into a rage. He cupped your face with one hand, forcing you to look at him. "You have no idea what you just did"

Wooyoung rammed himself inside of you, filling your walls mercilessly, bottoming out. Hushing your screams as he wrapped his hand around your throat.The bed creaks, the headboard knocking against the wall with each relentless thrust of Wooyoung's cock inside you, his grunts strained, the words falling from his lips both a string of incoherent moans and words, barely containing himself from moaning your name.You clench at the sound of him moaning your name, feeling every ridge of his cock drag against your walls as he's mercilessly pounding into you, his skin slapping against yours, his grunts and yours in unison filling the room. Your toes curled as you felt a churning in your stomach so soon. Your hands clawing his back as you slurred moans uncontrollable.

His hands slowly let go of your neck, slipping down to squeeze your pink buds, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. "Say my name~ let everyone know you you belong to"

You bite down on your lip, trying to muffle your moans, hearing the faint sounds of footsteps walking through the front door. Wooyoung grinned down you as his fingers pinched your nipple. Coercing a loud moan out "WOOYOUNG~" you cry out in pleasure, your hips jolting up as your eyes rolled back, squirting wildly as Wooyoung continued slamming into you. His thrusts becoming sloppy and more animalistic as he feels himself cumming, "fuck," he moaned, hips snapping against yours, the only sound in the room along with your violent moans. the feeling of his come coating your insides, filling you up causing you to wrap tightly around him, your body subconsciously wanting to keep him close.

He collapsed on top of you, the room filled with only the sound of heavy breathing as he rolled off of you, and pulled you towards him" Y/n I l-"

"Y/N ARE YOU OK-" Jongho burst into the room, followed by 6 worried idols poking their head curiously, wondering what was causing you to scream so loudly, fearing the worst. All bursting in the room holding whatever they could use as a weapon.

Jongho immediately drops his apple, mouth hanging ajar as stood the frozen, Wooyoung eyes shooting open as you both scrambled to cover yourself. "What are you looking at??" The members scrambling to cover Jongho's poor innocent eyes.

"Next time lock the door" Seonghwa mumbled as he hurried the rest of the members out of the unsuspecting porn set.

[arcanescholar]

Hard To Find The Right Words

Omori Post True Good Ending Spoilers. 

Aubrey having a tough time, etc etc. Enjoy maybe??? Might get more chapters later if I feel like it???????????? FUCK????????????

Ch 2 

On the long, long list of “shit Aubrey’s had to put up with” for the past few days…

This special, insidious sort of dizziness has gotta be a new one. Seriously, give a girl a break right? Who the fuck is able to handle this many highs and lows at once? It’s enough to make her head spin, and the hospital taking her bat away wasn’t helping matters.

The words that tumbled from Sunny’s placid, stony expression, his singular eye barely betraying the shaky, unsteady difficulty in handling recounting the story, made her stomach turn.

Shit, what a time to be thinking about what she had for lunch. If it comes back up right now she might straight up die of embarrassment y’know?

She couldn’t even turn her attention to Kel or Hero but, with the way the younger had to take a step back and struggle to find any words, and how the elder seemed to freeze like a statue, she had a feeling they were in just as bad of a spot.

“… and, that’s what happened.”

Sunny finally finishes recounting his story, and before he can say another word, Hero is already lunging, Ken barely able to snag his less-in-shape brother before he gets the chance to do whatever he was about to.

Aubrey, though…?

Years of anger, years of hatred and fury and bottled up impatience, a near lifetime of bitterness bubbles in her gut and sends her vision swimming.

Huh.

She just remembered, it was pizza.

Weird, why is Sunny getting so much taller? Kel? Hero? How come her knees started hurting suddenly-

Oh.

Oh, her legs gave out. That makes sense. God, her hair’s getting in her eyes, was it already starting to lose its color? Why is it so hard to focus on anything right now? She should be pissed! She should be picking up hospital equipment and chucking it out a window right now! So why can’t she move?! Why?!

For once, Aubrey can’t summon up her anger. For the first time in who only knows how long, she feels like the scared little girl that had to hide away when holes got punched into walls, that covered her head in her room and squeezed herself into a corner with her rabbit when the arguing got too loud. Her breath catches in her throat and refuses to let up. Is she going to die?

She can’t handle this again. Not now. She’s not strong enough, she’s not tough enough to deal with this-

….

Pap

… A hand rests against her head. That brief touch is enough to peel back the veil and drag focus back kicking and screaming into reality. She almost reflexively goes to turn and smack the hand out of the way, only to realize part way through her turn that it was just Basil’s arm, flopping out from the mattress and accidentally brushing against her head for a moment. The boy was still asleep, still a mess of injuries that made her nearly throw up seeing him in that state.

She might have bullied him, fantasized about beating him to an inch of his life, thought about crushing that bat of hers against his skull more times than she could count. She might have turned that weapon on Kel and Sunny both at least once before, but…

Seeing him like this, seeing Sunny with that eye patch, having lost sight in one of his eyes for what might be the rest of his life?

…

She takes Basil’s hand in hers and carefully stands up. Hero and Kel had been shouting for at least a minute now, she’s not sure how long it’s been since they started processing what happened in their own way. A shove is all Hero needs to finally get out of Kel’s grip, giving him time to damn near sprint out of the room, tackling the door hard enough to almost knock it off of its hinges before dashing out of the room.

Almost without thinking, Kel dips out, rushing after his brother with words that only come across like muffled noises in Aubrey’s ears.

… … …

There was a time when she confided in Mari, a time when she spoke to her about what was happening back at home, she remembered the pain in the older girl’s face, and the words she told her as she let Aubrey rest her head in her lap one quiet afternoon, just between the two of them.

“It’s not my place to say, but… If I could, I’d adopt you right now and give you the biggest welcome to the family hug I could…! Family should never hurt family. No one should ever raise a hand to a loved one and mean it, and the fact that they’re scaring you like that just isn’t right…” The older sister murmured at the time. Aubrey remembers now, Mari brushed her fingers through her hair in a really specific and special way that she almost forgot about.

It was like tracing little circles into her skin with her fingers, like trying to massage the fear from her brain, reaching in deep and grasping the wellspring of her despair and coaxing it out to let her think clearly again…

“When you get older… When things seem tough and scary and you don’t know what to do, that you feel like you’ve got nowhere else you can turn to. You might want to get mad, you might get really furious at having to deal with so much as a kid, but… Promise me, you won’t turn that anger on your friends, okay? Take a breath-”

… Haaaaahhh…

“-center yourself-”

Aubrey gives Basil’s hand a light squeeze. She can hear the hum of medical equipment and the sound of Hero and Kel’s footsteps retreating again.

“-and remember all the precious people you have in your life.”

She wasn’t the sort to pay the most attention to school, but, in this moment, a line she read in a book she had to read a few weeks back crosses her mind again.

“They asked, ‘do you love her to death’? And I said ‘speak of her over my grave, and watch how she brings me back to life’.” (1)

Funny how things dredge up in your memory at the weirdest possible moments, she thinks. For the first time, she’s starting to understand at least some of what those words really mean. 

…

After a moment, she carefully tucks Basil’s hand back into the bed, before letting loose a light huff through her nose. He’s still sleeping, if a bit more fitfully from all the noise.

“… Kh. Don’t gotta remind me like that y’know? Puts a bad taste in my mouth…” She nearly spits, trying to mask herself with bitterness.

It wouldn’t be long before hospital security came to drag Sunny back to his bed and cut this conversation short, she had to act fast.

She steps forward, and without hesitation, reaches up… and presses her hand on Sunny’s head, rubbing her fingers through his hair, tracing circles and massaging with a silent, stony expression that matches his own. She was still sick to her stomach, her balance was still terrifically uneasy, but…

“… I’ll come talk to you again later, okay?”

She pulls her hand back, and gives him a light punch to his shoulder before stepping out of the room.

“For what it’s worth…” She says, pausing in the door frame as she hears the sounds of shoes squeaking against tile flooring as the hospital staff finally approaches to do their damn jobs.

“I kinda get it. I understand it. I’ve been there. I’m not good at talking about this kind of thing, but, if you need to talk, I can give listening a try... this time.”

Sunny was going to leave after he recovered enough for the hospital to let him loose with his frankly fucking negligent mom. There was nothing she could do that would change that, but…

At least for now, at least while he was still recovering in the hospital, she could finally, actually speak to him.

“… Thanks for opening up Sunny. Give Hero a bit. That guy’s so strung up trying to be the best of us that I guess even he’s gotta snap at some point right?”

Says the girl trying to play mom-friend to the most broken-ass friend group in the tristate area. Christ, trying to be a decent person sucks. How the fuck did Hero pull it off for so damn long?

“Aubrey…”

“Yeah Sunny?”

“… thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Kh, fuck that, I almost drowned both you and Basil. If I started whining about accidents that happened in fits of rage I’d be the worst hypocrite in history, y’know?”

“…”

“Talk to Basil and let him know what happened if he wakes up before the staff drag you back to your room or something. I’ll let ‘em know you need a sec.”

With that, she carefully shuts the door.

What she says to the staff, what kind of look she gives them is growled with enough force and tinged with enough protective violence that it gives them just enough pause for the young boys to exchange an all too important smile of mutual understanding. 

Even if Aubrey never saw it, that little moment of clarity between them saved both of their lives in a way she’d refuse to take credit for helping make happen, knowing her.

A busted, crappy, cracked-screen phone buzzes to life as she walks past the staff. God, she fucking hates it here. The way her shoes hit the tiles, the way the equipment sounds, the fact that every time she’s come here, she’s ended up crying for some reason or another-

Shit, here come the water works now. Damn it Aubrey, at least make it out the door first-

A trip and a tumble nearly sends her falling straight to the floor but, she snaps out her hand just in time to snatch onto a handrail on the side of one of the hallways, her head still spinning as she sags against the floor, her phone toppling out of her jacket’s pocket and landing on its back with a loud, spinning clatter, settling in upside down to her perspective. Tear drops spatter onto the screen, distorting the light and scattering rainbow patterns across its surface. Gah. Add that to the damage. This just isn’t her day. 

Behind a call notification, her background shows the cork board in her room with the pictures she yanked out of Basil’s album after saving them from their near ruined state, mixed in with pictures of her and her other friends she made in the time that passed since. A little bubble on the screen bounces about, showing a picture of Kim flashing a peace sign with a bright eyed wink that reflects in Aubrey’s tired eyes, refracting as it passes underneath her teardrops.  “… Hhfffhh…”

She eventually picks her phone up off the ground and answers it. A hospital staffer looks about ready to tell her off for using her phone in the hallway but, lets be honest.

The kind of glare Aubrey gives off as she very deliberately swipes her finger across the screen to accept the call is the sort that would give most adults pause.

“… Hey.”

“Aubrey!!!! You finally picked up!!!”

“…”

“I was so worried when I heard about what happened! Kh, stupid hospital not letting us in…!”

“…”

“… Aubrey? Are you there? I can kinda hear you breathing so you probably didn’t butt-accept the call or something!”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m here.”

“Jeez, how come you weren’t saying anything? Did those ner-”

An audible pause. Kim clears her throat after a second.

“Sorry, uh, did those guys get out of the woods okay…? I kinda only caught the cliffnotes of you going to the hospital from that text you sent me so…”

“They’re fine.”

Aubrey steps outside the hospital’s visiting center doors and finally breathes fresh air for the first time in what felt like days.

“Or… They’re as fine as they can be. Sort of. Kinda.” She continues, stepping over to one of the benches outside and taking a seat, drinking in the sounds of chirping birds, gentle breezes, swaying trees, and the sensation of warm sunlight… It was a beautiful day, and she didn’t feel nearly good enough to appreciate any of it.

“That’s good at least yeah? Uh… Hrmggh. I’m bad at this kinda thing but… Uh. If there’s anything you need to talk about, you can hit me and the others up at any time yeah?”

Kim’s voice was surprisingly tender, tender enough that it manages to draw a sniff out from Aubrey, forcing her to bring a hand up to her eyes and rub it across them to make sure she didn’t show any tears yet god damn it-

Ugh. Where’s Kel’s Taurine soaked brain anyway. He’s better about handling this kinda energy! Does- shit, does he even like energy drinks?

“Aubreeeeey, if you keep going silent I’m gonna think someone kidnapped you y’know. Gotta pull the whole gang together, beat up on the nearest creepos till we find you! The Maverick’s got a Style Meter App on his phone that does those shouts from that one game so we’ll even get t’ have our own hype-men-”

The thought of Michael in a parking lot with a buffer sword in one hand and a phone in the other trying to do combos for a video to put on his Way Too Many Social Media accounts hits Aubrey with a second hand cringe that nearly brings her to her knees.

“UGGGHHHH!” Aubrey finally cracks, a doofy grin hitting her lips despite her audible mental suffering, slumping back in the chair and nearly sliding out of it entirely, a few tears finally trickling down her eyes as her body releases its tension at last.

“I can’t believe that try hard seriously sprung for something like that. If he tries that shit in public in front of me I’m making’ his screen look like mine.” Aubrey finally grumbles, adjusting her bow. “… Right, I left my bat at home. Ugh.”

“There we go! Now you’re talking’ again. Jeez, way to make a girl worry… Charlene was getting ready to find some flowers to give to you too, the sweetheart.”

“She’s more of an angel than Angel is…”

“Right?! Maybe we should make Angel give up on his nickname-”

“Don’t bother, Charlene’d never let him do it.”

“You’re so right it’s actually kinda annoying.”

“She’s the best of us, y’know.”

“…”

“…”

“So, can you like, talk about what happened at all now or…?”

“… Hang out spot, by the lake, be there in 20.”

“Should I bring the rest of the group-”

“Not this time, Kim.”

The call ends without another word, another ping showing on her phone’s screen showing string of texts from Kel.

JrangeOoe: hey!!!!! ;v;

JrangeOoe: sorry i left you alone with sunny and basil there, hero was having a really bad freak out

JrangeOoe: mom and dad and i are workin with him now, gonna try to calm him down will be back at hospital to give basil and sunny another visit later

JrangeOoe: gonna be honest, this is giving me a little time to figure this stuff out too so, thanks hero for the panic i guess??????

JrangeOoe: ugh no that’s not fair

JrangeOoe: anyway, if you need to chill and get some ginos later i found 10 bucks in a visiting center couch and was trying to hide it but

JrangeOoe: today’s a “spread the wealth” sorta day

It took a couple of moments of hesitation, but…

headhooligan: dinner, maybe

headhooligan: fuck this whole dumbs week

headhooligan: i got some spare cash so i’ll chip in too to get hero something if it’ll help

headhooligan: also what the fuck how are you so calm about this are your parents not trying to work you through this too or something?!

JrangeOoe: uh

JrangeOoe: no but i think hero needs it more right now!!!

JrangeOoe: i dunno how i feel, i guess i’m just to worried about everyone else to think about it?

JrangeOoe: *too

JrangeOoe: i’ll catch you later for dinner tho, if i can get hero to calm down enough to feel safe leaving him be with mom and dad

JrangeOoe: get a feelings jam up in here

JrangeOoe: pizza and ice cream or whatever

JrangeOoe: not at your place tho tbh your mom kinda freaks me out like a lot

headhooligan: >:/

JrangeOoe: what? it’s the truth!

With a roll of her eyes, Aubrey stuffs her phone away, wrenching her bike out of its lock from the hospital’s parking lot bike rack and mounting up. She takes one, final, long look at the hospital’s monolithic facade, and thinks about just how high up that building goes before shaking her head, and pedaling off.

The whole ride home, all she can do is play back today’s events again, and again, and again. Hear the same story in Sunny’s stilted monotone, again, and again, and again.

Every instinct, every trained gut reaction, every beaten in urge and desire tells her she should hate him.

He stole her from everyone, he murdered her, broke her skull against the floor like some raging animal then strung her up like a horror show for everyone to see just to avoid consequences with Basil’s help-

… But…

That panic that gripped her chest when Basil fell in the water from her shove just a few days ago, the terror at taking not one life, but two when Sunny jumped in after him, still unable to swim.

“…”

Her pedaling gets harder, more forceful, making the aging, damaged frame of her hand me down, fourth hand bike creak and groan in protest, hair billowing behind her in a tangled mess of poorly kept locks…

What should be anger gives way to an oddly calm understanding, what should be hatred and fury and violence wraps itself so tightly in its own chaotic energy that all she can do is…

…

There’s not a cloud in the sky, but raindrops spatter on concrete and asphalt where she rides, leaving a trail of sorrow four years in the making, finally given “closure”, finally released.

—-

(1) Credit to Mahmoud Darwish for this legendary line.

[tansypoisoning]

(Un)Conditional - Part 1

Truce

You didn’t remember how or why you found yourself in Ransom’s bed in the first place, but now, poor, pregnant and desperate, you had your reasons for putting up with him, and they weren’t noble. His reasons for staying with you weren’t noble either.

   Me  🤝  The Reader Insert     making stupid decisions

In which the reader is pregnant with Ransom’s baby and he sees that as an opportunity for personal enrichment. Big changes to the original plot, but Idk where this is going, so stay tuned for my brain farts, and I accept suggestions (Ransom redemption arc? Or should I make him even shittier? I haven’t decided yet!). I still want to have Benoit Blanc in the story somehow, because he’s my jam, my jelly, my peanut butter and my peanuts. This chapter is safe for anyone who hasn’t watched the movie but THERE WILL BE SPOILERS in the future.

 Chapter 2 - I Came Out to Have a Good Time and I’m Honestly Feeling So Attacked Right Now

Fandoms: Knives Out

Genre: *surprised Pikachu face*

Ships: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Smut, some light choking, some daddy kink, mentions of past sexual assault, talk of abortion, unhealthy relationships, Ransom is an asshole, a fuckboy and also verbally abusive tbh.

You were such an idiot.

Many were the times you had come home after terrible dates, or left parties in your friends’ arms after a guy tried to finger-bang you when you were passed out on the couch, and yet you still let your guard down around men you knew to be assholes. You could always tell; you weren’t sure whether it was thanks to familiarity ,or if you had a knack for reading people, but you still let terrible men in when you knew them to be terrible. Bad habits, hard to break, yadda yadda yadda. All that made for piss poor comfort when you looked at the five little plastics sticks in front of you.

Feet tapping against the ground and your phone held in between your cheek and shoulder, you typed on your laptop. Planned Parenthood. You should’ve done this sooner, way sooner, when you could get an IUD, or the pill, or the shot, or whatever the fuck else, instead of trusting your reliably unreliable partners and your nonexistent backbone. Birth control was expensive, but it was nowhere near as expensive as a baby, and you were going to get the same amount of help with either, which was to say, none.

No… That wasn’t quite true. Your brother and your friends would pitch in if you asked, you knew, but, as previously established, you were an idiot.

You knew there were people who loved you and would support you no matter what, but you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. This mess was on you, on you and…

Mailbox. Of course he didn’t pick up. He got what he wanted from you, and was now moving on to another woman who was equally as gullible and equally as “passable” as you. You couldn't believe his negging had worked on you, you were so fucked.

Deep breathes. It wasn’t over yet, you could fix this. The… the thing was still only two months, you could get rid of it, with a pill, even. But should you?

You tossed your phone to the side and opened another tab. Fetus two months. You clicked the first result that mentioned the development of the thing growing inside you and read the section entitled “Baby”. Internal organs already in place… wiggling and waving like mad? Distinct facial features?!

Your hands found their way to your mouth as a sob found its way past your lips. No way. This was some forced-birther propaganda, it had to be.

You left that shitty website and opened usually trustworthy Wikipedia, but it was of no help. It didn’t exactly contradict the information the other website had given you – the difference between “waving” and “twitches” was negligible to your addled brain.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than it was wise. You stood and began pacing, one hand over your face and another resting on your abdomen. It was just your luck to have your eggs dodge the sperm of every jerk you could get to pay child support, only for you to end up carrying the Antichrist – and the Devil could afford the best lawyers.

Damned be the day you let Hugh RaNsOm Drysdale in your bed without a condom, and damned be you for being so fucking stupid. You deserved whatever suffering that came from this, and you could accept them with some grace if it didn’t feel like you were dragging an innocent along with you.

You stopped and looked down at the row of pregnancy tests arranged over the bathroom counter, all of them positive. You couldn't do this. You regretted that one night of meaningless sex more than you regretted anything in your life, and maybe you’d regret your current decision even more but you couldn't do the thing you knew you should do.

You swiped all the tests into your arms and dumped them in your bag. You grabbed your keys and walked out of your pitiful apartment and into your pitiful car. You had barely enough money to take care of yourself, let alone a child. Abortion could be the best thing you could do as a mother, but…

You pushed the keys into the ignition and shook your head. You were emotional, that was all. If you just gave yourself a little more time you’d stop thinking of it as more than the parasite it actually was, but for now… For now you needed to get things straight with the sperm donor, no matter how much it could hurt, and you were under no illusions – it would hurt like a motherfucker.

You had been in Ransom’s unfairly cool house a grand total of three times. He didn’t like having you over, much preferring fucking at your house even if he turned up his nose at the building and everything inside it. Maybe he didn’t like having to disinfect his furniture every time it got into contact with your poor people germs.

Yeah, like he cleaned anything.

You parked in front of the contemporary building and made your way to the front door, ringing the bell four times because Ransom never answered when people rang only once or twice, and then another because you were filled with dread, and manic energy, and the powerful desire to punch him in his perfect face until it wasn’t quite so perfect anymore.

You waited several minutes but there was no answer. It wasn’t surprising; if he was inside you’d have seen him through one of the outrageously large windows that covered almost every wall of the house.

You sat down on the steps to the entrance and pulled out your phone. You were done with work for the day, and you weren’t sure when he would want to pick up your calls again. You could wait.

And wait you did.

It was two in the morning when Ransom’s BMW pulled up in front of the building, activating the motion sensor lights. He walked out of the car with the confidence of a man who knew he owned everything he surveyed.

Fucking dipshit.

“Wow,” he laughed, opening his arms then dropping them to his side again, lest he appear too inviting. “You want it bad.”

You started rummaging through your bag for the pregnancy test as not to waste your time with pointless conversation. That should tell him everything you wanted to say.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood today,” he said pulling his keys from his stupid suede coat only he could make look hot “long day, you know how it is. You can suck my cock and stay over, if you want.”

He had unlocked the door and was nudging you with his foot when you found what you were looking for and got up with a jump.

You waved the stick in the air victoriously. Even though you were the one who was the worst off in this scenario, you could at least use the source of your misery to wipe the smirk off his dumb, gorgeous face.

Done and did. Once Ransom caught on, the corner of his mouth dropped, free falling. Your life had been thrown in disarray, and the medical bills, if you chose to keep the thing, would ensure you would end up homeless in a couple of months, but at least you could rejoice in the fact you had ruined his eternal party in a spectacular fashion.

“What do you want?” He snarled. “Can’t pay the abortion? How much is it?”

You recoiled as if he had just swung a knife in your direction. This was new. You’d seen him angry before, sure, but this… the curl of his lips, the look in his eyes– it had you second guessing your decision to come see him.

You struggled to find your voice for a few seconds “I don’t… I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.”

Regret pierced you through like a lance. You knew he didn’t care about you – he didn’t “do monogamy”, he never asked you about your day, it was a struggle to get him to even buy you a coffee, and he only bothered to make you come if he could use it to feed his pride somehow – but all his disinterest in your well-being was nothing compared to the loathing radiating from him, like you were a fat dying cockroach stuck to the bottom of his nice leather shoes.

There was no reason Ransom should be able to make you feel like that. He was an absolute shitheel, a trust-fund baby who had never had a job in his life, never worked to build anything, and didn’t even have the decency to be thankful to his family for all they had done for him, and you didn’t even like him (conceding that he was attractive and you were a masochist was not the same as liking), so his opinion shouldn’t matter to you, someone with a stable source of income and an ounce of moral fiber. That didn’t stop you from writhing under his gaze.

“Get in,” he said, voice devoid of anything that could be considered charming.

You entered, waiting at the side, in fear of walking past the foyer without invitation, while he locked the door behind him.

He walked by you and went right to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, watched him grab a glass, fill it with water and down it. He didn’t offer you anything – you figured he didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re suggesting it’s mine.”

His words startled you from your stupor, and you shook in your spot by the entrance before answering. “I know it’s yours. I haven’t slept with anyone else in almost a year.”

“And you are saying that.”

You bristled at his insinuation. “We can get a paternity test, if you want.”

Ransom lifted his head and inhaled sharply. He paced the length of his high end, open concept, immaculate-because-it-was-never-used kitchen, then opened a drawer, pausing to look up at you, closed it, then moved to the next and repeating the process several more times, while you shifted from one foot to the other.

“Here’s the thing, honey,” he said, and the last word was said with anything but sweetness “I’ll pay for the abortion, and I’ll pay for you to have the abortion. If you’re not gonna do it, then I don’t want to see your dog face again.”

You knew Ransom didn’t like kids – he despised them, even – but you didn’t think he’d react quite this badly. You knew he would want nothing to do with it, but you still thought telling him was the right thing to do. He deserved to know at least, surely.

The feeling you got when he first turned on you that night was a sign; you shouldn’t have come.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered.

Ransom’s cheeks were red and wide, and it seemed as if he was about to argue when he slammed his hand against the counter then stomped towards you.

You shrunk in on yourself, but you needn’t have. He just unlocked the door and pulled it open, holding it for you to walk through. His breathing was heavy and his shoulders were tense, like he was holding himself back.

Once you had rallied your strength and crossed the threshold, you heard your name being called behind you. You turned to see Ransom, still glaring at you with the same awful expression. You couldn't imagine what he had to tell you that hadn’t already been said.

“If you try contacting me again, you’re fucked.”

And then he slammed the door in your face.

You made your way to your car, head hanging low. That had been a disaster, but at least he made it easier for you to choose one of the options.

Fucking dipshit.

You had been right; time had given you helped you think things over.

Three days later and you could refer to the fetus as a fetus without going down a depressive spiral, and the thought of abortion was more palatable to you. In a couple more days you were certain you’d be able to walk into Planned Parenthood with your head held high, get your pill, and walk out, facing the world and the potential crowds of angry protesters with confidence, then move on with your life, promising never to get involved with another shitty guy again. The scare would be enough to make you change your ways, you were sure.

You didn’t want a kid, at least not yet. You were young, living paycheck to paycheck, and any child you had right now would grow up without a father. You were still mulling it over but abortion seemed like the most responsible choice, and if you couldn't make the responsible choice now, you’d make for a terrible mother in the future.

A knock on the door made you look up at the clock. Fifteen past eleven. Maybe the old lady who lived across the hall from you needed help killing a bug or something. You stood, pulled the latch off and unlocked the door, not thinking much of it, and almost walked face first into a hard body you were far too familiar with.

Ransom was there, waiting for you, his face inscrutable. His chest was heaving, and some serious heat emanated from it. You had the urge to hug his waist and burrow into his warmth, but you resisted it bravely. You’d promised yourself you would stop chasing men like him, and you intended on keeping that promise.

“Ransom,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice even.

A flash of pain roamed his face, and then he was putting his hands on you, holding the side of your face in his large palms. You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound was muffled between your lips and his.

A kiss. Ransom was kissing you – and a second ago you were so sure he was paying you a visit just to beat you up.

He maneuvered you into your apartment, still cradling your cheeks with surprising gentleness. You knew you should’ve stopped him, but your feet followed his steps with such ease, and he was so fucking warm and you living room so cold.

As one of his hands slid from your face to the back of your neck, something inside you screamed. It told you to stop now or it would be too late, and you’d fall into the same old hole and not be able to crawl out of it. You surprised yourself by listening to it and pulling away, pushing on his chest to keep a good distance between you. You told yourself you were doing well, even though you were holding onto his white shirt like a lifeline and arching your body into his.

“Ransom, wha-” your words were cut off by another kiss, more heated than the previous.

He pushed you down onto your couch -  the creaky old thing he always complained about – and climbed on top of you you, forcing you both into a laying position.

When Ransom pulled away (only to immediately latch his lips to your earlobe) you made to question him before the weakest part of yourself could convince you to just let it happen. It was she who had gotten you into this mess in the first place. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He mumbled against your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you huffed, twisting your body beneath him in a half-assed attempt to buck him off “You told me to never contact you again. Why are you here?”

He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that had your very core thrumming. He removed his hands from you and pushed himself up by the forearms to look down at you. When you saw his smirk, you knew you were going to end up having sex with him no matter what he said next.

“I guess I couldn't keep away.”

And with that he went right back to his station, sucking and nibbling on the spot just behind your ear and running his hand across your waist and belly.

But what about the baby? What about whether you wanted to keep it or not? These questions were lodged in your throat, dying to burst out, but you didn’t want to to ruin this moment. You were so tired; you just wanted to be held, and Ransom was willing to do that for you, so what was the harm in giving in?

You lifted a leg and wrapped it around his thigh, and that Ransom took as acquiescence or defeat. He pulled away to lift your shirt above your breasts and wasted no time diving for them, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and squeezing the other in between his fingers. You planted your feet on the couch and used them as leverage push your crotch upwards and rub it against his. He was a terrible person, you knew, but he could fuck you so good when he wanted to, and right now you only had the brain space to care about one of those things.

Your hips rocked in tandem with his, driving you closer to that edge you didn’t know you were yearning for until you saw him standing on your doorstep. Entangled in his arms, you remembered your older brother’s words from that night some ten years ago when you were lying on the backseat of his car, a plastic bag filled with your vomit clutched in your hands. You saw his eyes in the rear view mirror, crinkling in a smile that was equal parts amused and concerned.

A pretty boy is going to be the end of you, huh?

Ransom pushed himself into a kneeling position, removed his dark cardigan and tossed it to some forgotten corner of your living room, his shirt receiving the same treatment soon after. For someone who was so averse to working, he sure didn’t skimp on his work outs. He was built like a god, but his smile was that of the devil.

He crashed down on top of you, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him. You sunk both hands in his perfectly coiffed hair and dragged him up until you were staring into his baby blue eyes. He leaned down to kiss you, and you obliged him. His mouth devoured your own while his hands roamed your body, hungry, desperate almost. You didn’t want to be outdone, both because he was an asshole and you didn’t want to lose to him, and because you were as starved of him as he seemed to be of you, so you wrapped both legs around his waist to pull yourself even closer to him, as close as you could get.

Ransom’s hands abandoned your body in favor of his belt, unbuckling it to shove his pants just past his upper thighs. His eyes were pointed, telling you he expected you to follow his lead. You undid your buttons with heavy fingers, and allowed him to pull your bottoms all the way off. His grin grew in size and insolence when he saw your panties were soaked through.

“You do want it bad.”

Fucking dipshit.

Before you could think of something smarter to say, he was dragging your underwear to the side and spreading your folds. You certainly weren’t going to think of a comeback now, with his fingers up your cunt and your body begging for his attention. You wouldn’t be this aroused with any other man, but you already knew you suffered from a serious case of tastelessness and dumb. Most grievously, it appeared to be terminal.

Ransom stoked the fires inside you with one hand, pulling it out periodically to smear the wetness across your lower lips while he held himself aloft with the other, his usual lazy, confident smile plastered on his face. It made a sudden wave of lucidity wash over you.

What the fuck were you doing? You knew he wasn’t worth your time since the day you met him; Three days ago he had treated you like shit after you told him you were pregnant; Just a few minutes before you were determined not to get involved with him or men like him ever again. All the signs told you to stop now, push him away and tell him to get out under threat of you calling the police, and yet here you were, panting under him and dying to feel his cock stretching you. The mere promise of dick had you going back on your word like a rat, and all you did was make excuses for yourself. You were always too weak or too dumb to resist your urges, weren’t you? That’s why you never bothered trying.

“Wai-”

The air was forcibly expelled from your lungs when his cock entered you. He wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t have to be; your body was more than ready for him. The grunt that came fro you had an air of finality to it. You weren’t going to stop him now.

The screaming part of you let out one final screech, then withered and died.

Ransom panted, rolling his hips against yours. You held onto his arms and looked up at him. This was unusual. Normally he’d be pounding into you when you were this slick, and unusual with Ransom tended to mean ‘bad’.

He brought two wet fingers to your face and tapped your chin with them.

“Get me clean.”

You parted your lips and accepted the appendages into your mouth. Nothing unusual there; he’d made you taste yourself on his fingers a couple of times. He liked to watch you lick them clean, but this was different. His smile was strained and his eyes looked past you. You turned the full powerful of your best puppy impression on him, but he still seemed to be half-there half-somewhere else.

Once you had slurped all your juices and then some, Ransom moved both his hands to your arms, pressing you against the hard surface of the couch. He should’ve started fucking you already, but he only rocked his pelvis side to side, giving you just a hint of friction, nowhere near enough to satisfy you.

You whined and bucked your hips upwards. That got him out of his trance, his eyes regaining their shine and his smile splitting into a grin. There was that asshole you knew and didn’t love.

“What’s with that face?” He asked and moved one of his hands to your neck, applying pressure, not enough to compromise your breathing but enough to leave you light-headed for a different reason “You want something?”

“Ransom,” you clawed at his forearm like you could do anything if he chose to choke you.

“You gotta ask, baby. If you want daddy to fuck you, you gotta ask.”

Your fingers stilled around his arm. The daddy thing was not new either, but you didn’t think he’d bring it up under the present circumstances. Was this intentional, or was he not even aware of what he was saying? Were you wrong to think it was weird for him to say that now?

The fingers around your throat tightened, closing your airway for a moment, then releasing.

“Ask.”

You squirmed, tapping on his arm, but all that got you was another squeeze.

“Please,” you whimpered “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

Ransom’s grin grew even wider, wide enough that light reflected off his canines. He adjusted his position on his knees, and took his other hand from your arm, reaching behind your head to pull you by the hair, further exposing your neck to him.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered against the top of your head.

He pulled his cock almost all the way out, then slammed back inside you. He pushed into you with shallow thrusts until he tapped a spot that made you gasp. Having found what he was looking for, Ransom diverted most of his attentions to hitting his target over and over again, periodically stopping to grind against it in a torturous slow pace.

You were too aroused to last much longer, and the bastard would be able to finish you off with little effort.

“You close, baby? You wanna cum?” He asked, and you nodded emphatically “Then you gotta do what daddy says. Can you do that?”

God, you’d do anything he asked of you at this point. Someone needed to tattoo ‘Sucker’ on your forehead already.

“Yes, daddy!” You cried, your words devolving into a high-pitched whine “I’ll do anything, please!”

The hand in your neck slid down across your body and delved in between your legs in search of your clit. You squealed when his fingers made contact, and whimpered when they began rubbing. You were aware of your trembling legs, but unable to do anything about them.

Ransom could always dismantle you with ease, but now more so than ever. You came in record time, with short little moans that culminated in an embarrassing howl. You were just coming down from your high when he picked up his pace, grunting and huffing above you. He gave you no warning before spilling into you, swaying back and forth and groaning as his own orgasm ebbed away. The fact that this was the least concerning thing he’d done all evening didn’t escape you.

He held you to him for a few seconds as both your breaths evened out, then rolled over, leaning against the backrest and lying you down by the outer edge of the couch. Ransom was always more tractable after sex, but he’d go back to being his dismissive self come the morning, and then you’d bitch and moan to yourself. This was a familiar dance you couldn't seem to stop repeating.

You were ready to recommence your self-pitying when Ransom spoke, interrupting the flow of your lamentations.

“I thought about what you said the other day,” he said. The pregnancy? Why would he bring that up now? “and if you want to keep it, I’ll help you.”

A tremor ran through your spine and you lost your precarious balance on the couch, falling to the carpet with a loud thud.

There was laughter – because of course there was – then Ransom was peering down at you. His lips were pressed together, as if he was still fighting to rein in his amusement.

“You… you want to help me?” You asked when you found your voice again.

He nodded. “I do.”

“You want to help me raise a kid?”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes “I thought that was obvious the first two times I said it.”

“You don’t like kids.”

“I like to think I would like my kids,” Ransom said, stretching across your couch like a lazy cat.

“Why?” You said, then, realizing that question was more for yourself than it was for him, you rephrased your question “What made you change your mind? Cause you seemed pretty sure when I saw you last.”

“And I was,” he agreed “I never wanted kids, and… And I was pissed,” he chuckled and shook his head “I don’t know who I was pissed at. All I know is I couldn't think straight. When I saw the pregnancy test… I don’t know, I could see my entire life crumbling.”

You could’ve asked him ‘what life?’ but decided against it.

“So, cut to a few days later, and I had this… Clarity. I realized there was nothing I could do if you wanted to keep it, and maybe,” he paused to take a deep breath “maybe I should take responsibility.”

You sat up and made a point of frowning at him. “Seriously, what happened?”

“I told you already. Just… boom – clarity.”

You knew Ransom was sharper than a first impression would lead one to believe, but self-awareness was not his forte. Could he have had a change of heart in such a short period of time? Did you believe him? You wanted to believe him.

“Do you seriously want to raise a kid with me?”

He laughed and threw his hands up in the air “How many times do I gotta say it?”

“Do you even know what that entails?”

“Hey, I babysat my cousins a couple times,” he said, picking at the foam peeking through a hole in the upholstery of your couch “I bet I’d do better than you.”

Being a parent had to be harder than watching children for a few hours, but as far as experience with children went… well, maybe he was onto something.

A palm emerged in front of you, rousing you from your thoughts.

“Truce?” Ransom asked. There was something about the way he looked at you gave you hope.

Earnest, he looked earnest.

You took his hand in yours and shook once.

“Truce.”

Part 2: I Came Out to Have a Good Time and I’m Honestly Feeling So Attacked Right Now