#i was going to give him furniture but i think i'm going to start him off from scratch like he gets a toilet and a shower and that's IT

[mattodore]

attilio partied so hard his family kicked him out with nothing more than the money in his wallet and a suitcase full of clothes. now he has to live in the shell of a house his grandfather built for his grandmother in the 70s and find a job.

[fir3flytv]

JASON TODD didn't want a dog. He lived in an apartment with you, with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a living room that looked like the furniture decorated in it would fall apart at any moment.

But one day, he comes home to you, sleeping in your bed with a little bull mastiff puppy on his side of the bed. He stares at the dog for a few moments, before going to take off his Red Hood outfit, as though that would make the situation disappear. When he comes back, the dog was still there. Of course.

Gently, Jason shakes you awake, giving you a pointed look. "Got anything you want to share with me, babe?" He asks, eyes trailing down to the dog, still asleep on the bed. A sheepish smile crosses your face. "I can explain?" You say, though it comes out more like a question. "I was volunteering at the animal shelter and found him. He didn't like being with the other dogs in cage but they didn't have enough space to isolate him." "So you thought the best plan was to bring home a dog that can grow to be 150 pounds?" I scoffs lightly. "No, no! I'm fostering him. Just for a little bit," You say quickly. "I thought since he's still a puppy he would be adopted quickly, right? So we won't have to make space for when he gets that big." Jason lets out a soft sigh and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before speaking again. "You're too good," He murmurs softly. You smile up at him and return the kiss onto his cheek. After a few moments, Jason clears his throat and looks down at the puppy, still sprawled out onto his side of the bed. "So where am I going to sleep?" ... JASON TODD sucks at being a foster. He's terrible, horrible, even. If you were to look up 'How to not foster a dog', they would just show his face. It wasn't that he neglected the dog. He could never. He took him out on runs, fed him good food, washed him, played with him. Everything a dog owner could do. No, the reason Jason was so bad was because his first ever foster dog turned out to be a foster failure. Every time someone came by interested in adopting the puppy, Jason would be in your ear, whispering to you that it didn't seem like they knew what they were doing, or that the puppy wouldn't like living with them. Every. Single. Time.

It wasn't till the three month mark of fostering the pup, having moved to a more spacious apartment, that Jason popped the question.

"You know," He starts suddenly while the two of you were on the couch, eating Chinese take out with the dog resting on the floor nearby. "No one here seems to be right for Buster." Buster, his name for the dog. He's used it so much he actually started responding to it. "There's someone, I'm sure," You counter, taking a bite of your food. "I know there is," Jason counters. Just as you open your mouth to tell him that makes no sense, he cuts you off. "Us. We're right for Buster." "Think," He says, reaching out to grip your hand. "For three months, we've had him, we've moved with him. He has his spot in the bed, we've worked him into our schedule. He's happy. Why ruin that?" "So you want to adopt him?" You ask, making sure you understood just exactly what he was saying. It felt too good to be true. "Yeah, I do," He says with a small smile. As soon as he finishes speaking you practically lung at him, tackling him into a hug while whispering small 'thank you's. The action makes Buster jump up and want to join in on whatever is going on, leaping onto the couch and sniffing at the two of you, his massive head bumping you both. In that moment, Jason knew he made the right choice. This felt right. It felt good. It felt like home. You, him, and your giant dog.

[muntitled]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

[futureman]

come clean

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕

Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.

His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.

Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.

Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.

So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.

“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”

He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.

"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.

"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.

"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.

"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.

"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"

"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.

"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.

"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.

"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."

“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.

“Don’t be too loud up there!”

But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.

God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.

But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.

That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.

“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.

The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.

You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.

“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”

He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.

There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.

The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”

You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.

“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”

He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.

You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.

This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.

You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.

"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”

He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.

"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."

His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.

There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.

"Well, come on in, cowboy."

Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.

You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.

You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"

Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.

He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.

You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.

"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.

He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.

“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”

You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.

He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.

You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.

You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”

The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.

For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.

You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.

You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.

He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.

You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.

His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.

Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.

Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.

He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.

"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."

You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.

“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.

"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"

For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.

His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.

Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.

The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.

God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.

There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.

"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.

His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.

"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."

And that's when his patience runs out.

He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.

"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."

You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.

Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.

Then, your patience runs out.

"Joel, move."

And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.

Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.

"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."

You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.

"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."

It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.

Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.

"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."

The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…

"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.

He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.

"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"

Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.

If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.

"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.

"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."

So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.

You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.

You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.

You recognize it now—it's hope.

"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."

He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[yanderambling]

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[a-hazbin-reader]

Can I please request a Vox x Female Childish Reader just like the meme that goes...

Random Imp: Hey! Some dude is jumping going off to the bungee swing backwards!

Vox who was currently talking to the other 2 V's: Hah, What an idiot

Female Reader: I'M GOING OFF THE BUNGEE SWING BACKWARDS!!!

Vox: Oh no...THAT'S MY IDIOT!!!

I'm up for any ask that gives Vox a headache

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think?? Cartoonish scenarios??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You are so goofy and childish and it's one of the reasons Vox actually fell in love with you

It's so refreshing to have someone who's always looking for fun things to do in Hell instead of being miserable or scared

When he first met you, he assumed you were just stupid, watching you run from a group of hungry cannibals while calling it tag

Almost considered leaving you to your fate but something about the way you squealed in excitement as they caught up to you made his heart flip

So he reluctantly saves you and you've become a thorn in his side ever since

A thorn that he's come to love and look forward to seeing every day, often wishing he could just blow off work to spend time with you

Literally does everything you want to do, even at the price of his own pride, that's how whipped Vox is for you

You wanna play the floor is lava?? He's jumping on the nearest piece of furniture and trying to knock you off your perch

You're playing hide and seek?? Fine! Vox is roping in the other V's and he's literally tearing apart everything to find your ass

How tf did you get INSIDE the couch!?!?!

He's in a meeting with the other overlords and you suddenly start a game of Duck Duck Goose, picking him as the goose???

You bet your ass Vox is chasing after you like you owe him money, the others just watching in bewilderment

You start a pillow fight?? He's going to start a pillow WAR

He wants to fucking WIN

Literally adores your childish nature but won't admit it to anyone, no matter how obvious it is

On the other hand...

You fucking stress him out sometimes, getting yourself into the strangest situations

Vox once caught you playing hopscotch with Alastor, winner gets to keep your soul

WHY DID YOU AGREE TO THAT

Relax Voxie~ I won anyways~

You get yourself into a game of musical chairs with a humongous dinosaur demon??

Vox is still having nightmares of you being squashed by that gigantic ass 😒

One of the worst things you've ever done to him is video call him while you're about to do a bungee jump

He was stuck discussing business with the other V's when you suddenly appear on his phone, immediately cheering him up

What could his cute Y/N want now~?

"Hey Voxie~! I'm about to jump off this bridge and do a flip! I want you to watch me!!"

"You're gonna WHAT!?"

Nearly short circuits right then and there, his screen glitching out from the sudden wave of stress

He zaps your way the moment he sees that you're jumping, grabbing the bungee rope and pulling you up with his own two hands

Vox ignores all your whining and pouting over him spoiling your fun, pulling you into his arms and shaking from the adrenaline rush

You are just so confused, you were only having fun...it's his fault for being so busy all the time that you get bored

He's still trying to get his breathing back to normal when he suddenly touches foreheads with you

He squishes your cheeks together and gives you a tired look

"You...are not leaving our bedroom for the rest of the week..."

"Voxie!! That's no fair!!"

I hope this is what you wanted!! I had so much fun writing it!

[purplesuitcowboy]

this is so long, my god but i love a sexy maid moment.

tw: rape (under negotiated kink and consent with coercion)

This job had not been Brittney's first choice. She'd been working at the restaurant one night when a man far to wealthy to be eating at an establishment as shitty as the place she worked had gotten her attention and slipped her his card. He'd told her that if she was ever interested in expanding her work opportunities and entering into a lucrative new field, she should give the number a call. At the time, she'd brushed off his proposition, thinking him a creep, but she never threw out his card. Of course, she'd gotten fired a week later for tardiness and after weeks of fruitless job hunting, she had re-evaluated his offer. Maybe, it wouldn't be that bad? He was pretty posh so she didn't imagine they have her doing hard labor outside or anything.

She checked her bank account and the minuscule balance helped her steel her nerves. She didn't have enough money to pay her rent this month. The leasing agency had been lenient with her thus far but she knew that eventually their patience with her late or missing or incomplete payments would wear out and she'd be out on the street. She'd called and found out that the number was for an agency that matched attractive young women with wealthy clients who needed extra assistance performing common household tasks. She'd asked the agent for more information but hadn't been able to get more out of them then vague statements about client confidentially.

She'd agreed and gone through the strangest application process she'd ever experienced. She'd never been asked to submit her measurements to a job before. She thought that maybe they just had specific uniform standards but she never received anything. The only pro about the whole thing, other then the pay check, was that it didn't take them long to match her with a client. She was sent an address, date, and time to arrive, and was told not to be late under any circumstances unless she wanted to be terminated immediately. This seemed like a lot for a job cleaning houses but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That's how she'd managed to find herself in the swankiest building she'd ever been in on an elevator headed to the penthouse. The doors opened to a small hallway that lead to an ornate door with a gold door knocker in the shape of a lion. She knocked once and stood there in front of the door. Just how rich were these fucking people? She heard a series of locks being released and then the door opened, revealing a older man with salt and pepper hair, and strong jaw. He was obviously in great shape for his age, and she struggled to find the right place to look at him so she wasn't just shamelessly ogling her employer. He had a stern look about him and Brittney was happy that she wasn't late. She did not want to what he looked like when he was angry.

"Oh, uh. Hello, sir. I'm-", she started speaking quickly, trying to introduce herself but he cut her off.

"I know exactly who you are Brittney. Please come inside," he turned on his heel and briskly walked into the spacious apartment, not bothering to check and see if she was following behind him.

She squeaked in surprise and followed quickly behind him. The door immediately shut behind her and she heard a series of clicks as all of the locks fell back into place. It was the nicest apartment Brittney had ever seen. Everything was clean and white with the kind of modern minimalist furniture that only rich people liked. The best thing about the apartment was the windows. It had the best view of the city, that seemed to sprawl out like an ocean beneath them.

"We have much to discuss so why don't you get changed into your uniform and then we'll talk."

"Oh, I don't have a uniform. I thought the company was going to provide something but nothing ever came," she told him apologetically.

"I'd certainly hope not. We have a uniform for you here. It's in the other room there. It's based on your measurements so provided you did not lie, it should fit just fine."

Brittney looked at him baffled. She waited for him to provide more of an explanation but he did not so she walked into room to get changed. It was guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. Laid out on the bed was what looked like a slutty maid costume which was odd. She wandered around the room, looking for her uniform. Upon finding nothing, she poked her head out of the bedroom door.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't see my uniform," she told him.

"It should be on the bed," he told her, which would mean that the skimpy maid costume was her uniform.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't wear that."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression on his face that seemed to communicate that he thought was was very stupid.

"Tell me, Brittney. Did you happen to read the contract before you signed it?"

Her face redden. She had looked at it but not very carefully. It just looked like a normal contract to her so she'd signed it without much thought.

"I see," he replied, voice cold." In the future, I would suggest you read contacts before you sign them and certainly before you show up at a clients house for a job. If you'd read it, you'd understand that employed in this capacity I own you - all of you. If you wish not to continue, please tell me now so I can send you on your way and we can stop wasting my time."

Her eyes widened as the reality of what she'd signed up for dawned on her. She'd figured that the job was weird but she didn't realize that it was going to be this. He was giving her an opportunity to leave and she should take it but she knew that if she did she could kiss her check good-bye.

"My apologies, sir. Please forgive me. I'll get changed right away."

She ducked back into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She changed out of her clothes and into the skimpy costume. She'd original thought that it was one piece but it was actually three. It also came with a matching choker, tights, and high heels, as well as a little metal thing shaped like a tear drop with a heart shaped jewel on the end but Brittney couldn't figure what that was suppose to be for.

The top was something like a triangle bikini top with a matching shrug that only covered her shoulders. The triangles of the bikini top covered her nipples, which had come to points in the cool air and were visible under the thin fabric of the top, but little else. The skirt, which had a white apron sewed onto it, was equally immodest. It hugged her hips well but barely covered her shaved pussy. She'd looked around for underwear but found none. Brittney tried to pull her tiny skirt down to cover a bit more of her ass but it was in vain. She hoped that he wasn't going to have her picking anything up because she'd be completely exposed. With the addition of the accessories and shoes, she was (barely) dressed in her uniform. She walked back into the main room of the apartment where her client was waiting for her, holding the small metal object in her hand.

"I'm dressed, sir," she told. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with this though."

He walked around her in a circle, looking over her body appreciatively.

"It fits you well," he told her, taking the item from her hand. "Don't worry. I'll help you. Now, I am going to tell you about this job and you are going to listen. Today is going to be unlike your other days here. Consider it an introduction to the job."

He slide the item in his pocket and with his hand free, he grabbed Brittney by the waist and pulled her towards him. She stumbled forward, landing with her hands on his broad chest. He cupped her ass with his big hands, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. Brittney gasped, at the sensation of his hands on her. This was bad. He was her boss, he shouldn't be touching her like this and she shouldn't be enjoying it. Despite her reluctance, she said nothing, afraid of pissing him off and losing her job.

"As I previously mentioned, while you work in this capacity, I own you and I mean this very literally," he told her, as he turned her so that her ass was pressed tightly against his thick cock. He ran his hands up and down her lithe body, groping her full tits and upper thighs.

"You are going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and who I tell you to do it with," he continued. With one hand, he freed her tits from the confines of her tiny top, teasing her sensitive nipples with his fingers, and the other, he sneaks between her legs to rub at her little pussy. He runs two thick fingers against her slit, coating them in her juices, and then plunging two of them inside of her. Brittney moans in response, hips bucking to take in more of his thick fingers.

"You will not talk back, and you will not make me repeat myself. Do I make myself clear?" When she doesn't respond quickly enough, he pulls his fingers out of her cunt and roughly spanks her pussy, earning a yelp of surprise from Brittney.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she replied, but she quickly learned that this was not the response that he was looking for as he delivered another series of slaps to her pussy.

"Not quite, try again," he told her, his hand hovering over her wet cunt ready to deliver another series of slaps if she fucked up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl," he tells her and she shudder's at the praise. "Now, I am a firm master but I am not unfair. It is expected that you will make mistakes but you will be guided and corrected as needed."

He slips his fingers back into her waiting cunt, scissoring them to stretch out her hole and then adding a third finger, pumping them in and out roughly. While he fucked her with his fingers, he used his thumb to rub her tender clit until her legs began to tremble. He lets her get close to the edge but denies her, over and over again. To Brittney, it feels like her pleasure stretches into eternity. She has no conception of how long they have been standing here in his living room with his devilish fingers playing with her pussy. Letting go of her tit, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the object from before.

"This, my dear, is a butt plug and it is apart of your uniform. I expect you wear it whenever you are working in this capacity. I'm sure this seems daunting now but I'm sure you'll grow to love it."

He pulls his fingers out of her cunt and pushes the plug inside, coating it in her juices. Brittney whimpers at the sensation but offers up no resistance. Slowly, he fucks her with the plug until she's close to cumming but slips it out before she can. He carefully pushes the plug against the tight ring of her anus and watches with satisfaction as it stretches around the toy. Brittney groans as her ass is slowly stretched and filled by the unfamiliar object. With the body of the plug snugly in her ass, the only thing that can be seen is the twinkling heart shaped jewel between her ass cheeks.

"That's a good girl. I think, you've earned an orgasm."

With her ass filled by the plug, his thick fingers in her pussy and against her clit felt even more intense. She came with a scream, as her legs buckled and she sagged against her employer's broad chest. She'd never cum that hard before. She felt like she'd been shot into space.

"Now that you've cum, I think it's time that you show your appreciation, huh?" he told her, as he pushed her to her knees and pulled out his hard cock.

[appocalipse]

hello! can I please request "I really, really want to kiss you right now." with steve and our shy!reader friend?!

here you go my love! hope you like it ♥ 1.3 k

The rain catches the two of you by surprise.

It pours down relentlessly, the cold droplets stinging your skin as you and Steve hurry towards his car, sadly parked way too far away from the charming flea market you had somehow dragged him to earlier that afternoon. 

Well, not really dragged exactly — Steve himself had volunteered to give you a ride the moment he heard you telling Robin how much you wanted to go and see if you could find some new furniture for your apartment, maybe even some decorations. But you felt as if you had dragged him there because, c'mon, what kind of guy thinks walking around a flea market with a friend is any fun?

And to top it off, the summer rain had come out of nowhere, sending everyone desperately running for shelter somewhere. Some lucky vendors had their tents already set up when it started, others began trying to cover their wares with tarps or whatever else they had at hand. A good number of them simply started to pack up their things to leave though, as did most of the potential customers who had been taking a look around — you and Steve included.

He had left his BMW in the parking lot of a closed store. It had seemed much closer before than it does now, as you and him run through the rain, palms over your heads to try to shield your faces from the relentless water.

You accidentally step into a puddle. Water splashes around your ankle, wetting the bare skin all the way up to your calf. You mutter a curse under your breath, deeply resenting your decision of wearing a summer dress today. "Oh, great." 

Steve chuckles, looking over his shoulder to you. Then what you can only assume is instant karma happens, and he slips and falls into a larger puddle, splashing water all over his pants and shoes.

You try to hold back, you really do, but the laughter is already building up inside of you, threatening to come out. And besides, he makes no move to get up, sitting there on the ground all wet, looking up at you like an abandoned puppy.

You giggle, which makes him laugh as well. 

"Sure," he says, "go ahead and laugh."

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you choke out, trying to hold back your laughter as you approach him, offering one hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"

But of course he is. Except for the blow to his ego, that is. And now, in addition to just being wet, his jeans are also partially stained with mud.

And the t-shirt — which is white, no less — starts to stick to his skin, giving you a view you didn't ask for but that's certainly hard to ignore.

Steve accepts your hand, but you use both hands and too much force to pull him up, so he almost collides with you when he finally stands, his face inches from yours. You both laugh, because it was supposed to be funny — his head almost bumps into yours — but he grabs your shoulders and the remnants of the laughter from before slowly die when you realize without a doubt that he's looking at your mouth.

And you at his. In the rain. Doesn't get any more romantic than this.

Except for the fact that Steve is Steve, the former King Steve, the boy who had a pretty girl on his arm every week, while you are...you.

You're not sure who pulls away first, who clears their throat, changes the subject. But before you know it, you're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's car, staring at the dashboard as lightning cuts across the darkened sky in the distance, a storm clearly brewing.

And it's worse. This feeling you have whenever you look at him or he says your name or anyone mentions his…it's somehow worse like this, in this moment, inside this car.

As if that wasn't enough, he offers you a jacket that he takes from the backseat. His jacket.

"Thanks," you murmur, taking the jacket and putting it on. It's warm. You remember the last time you saw him wearing it and resist the urge to close your eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent that still clings to the fabric. It's like a mix of laundry detergent, soap, and something uniquely Steve.

You feel a blush creep up your neck, and you look away, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

He hasn't started the car yet, you notice. Perhaps  he's considering waiting to see if the weather will get a little better? It doesn't look that bad that it's not safe to drive, you think.

“Sorry for dragging you here for nothing,” you say, when it’s clear he’s not going to say anything.

“You didn’t drag me,” Steve assures you, sitting half to the side to look at you. "And what do you mean, for nothing? You wanted to look at the furniture, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but we didn't buy anything and now you're all wet."

He chuckles so quietly you almost don't hear. "I didn't come here to buy furniture."

You think about asking what he actually came for, but that would be a stupid question, wouldn't it? A hope of hearing something that he probably won't say. He came so you could buy what you wanted. He's a good friend like that.

Still, when you turn your head to look at him, there's something different in the way he's looking back at you. You smile, hoping to God he doesn't notice the nervous edge behind it, "What?"

Steve opens his mouth. He's pretty sure he didn't give those words permission to come out, and yet they come out anyway,  hoarse and low, "I really, really want to kiss you right now."

You watch his lips move as he speaks, but it's like your mind can't process the words. 

And once you do, you blink, not quite sure what to say to that. Your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest, a wild thing thumping against your ribs. But there's something else in there too. Something warm. Something you haven't felt in a long time.

The front seats are close enough, so Steve reaches out, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your lips. "I've wanted to for a while now," he whispers, leaning in closer.

You feel hot all over, the air in the car suddenly too thick to breathe. 

Steve's fingers trail down your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip, teasing you. It's a slow, deliberate movement, as if he's memorizing every inch of your face, every second of this moment. "Do you want me to?" he whispers, and the teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flip over. 

Your mind is spinning, but somehow you manage to force out the words, "Yes." You mean it. God, you mean it.

Steve's smile grows in that charming, lopsided way he has when he's happy. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in closer, closer…and then his lips are there, pressing softly against yours. Feather-light at first, like he's testing the waters, making sure this is what you want. But when you part your lips, letting him in, he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a slow, lazy rhythm, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head, holding you to him.

And then, all too soon, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. "Was that…was that okay?"

You smile, leaning as close to him as you can without jumping over the gearshift.

"It was more than okay."

[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]

[ashwhowrites]

can i request a little bit of angst?

eddie is in his late twenties, finally got his shit together, a baby on the way with reader! and eddie’s OLDER brother shows up. he’s an asshole, exactly like their dad, tries hitting on reader, crashes on their couch, makes eddies life hell then it all comes to a head and they end up fighting!

I really love this request!!! 🫶🏻

Never proofread

I hope this is what you wanted, thank you for requesting &lt;3

Happy ending

~~~

If there was one thing in life Eddie didn't think he'd ever achieve, it was getting his life together. He never thought he'd make it out of the trailer park. And he definitely never thought he'd have a wife by his side and a baby on the way.

It took Eddie a long time to get on his feet. Selling drugs and living with his uncle was not the future he wanted for himself. He used his dirty money and got himself a shitty apartment, in the corner of the dirtiest neighborhood, but it was all his. And being on his own was something he could be proud about.

~~~

He was living in that apartment for around five years when he met Y/N. She moved into the apartment next to him, struggling to carry boxes through the front door. Eddie was happy he lived on the first floor, easily walking out behind her, trying his best to not seem creepy.

She turned around and screamed as she saw him. A hand over her chest. Eddie jumped at the scream, hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

"I am so sorry! I just wanted to see if you needed help." He offered with the friendliest smile he could manage.

Who would have thought in three years, he would have been marrying that girl.

~~~

Marriage life was the best thing Eddie has experienced, and he felt that fatherhood would be the same. He never knew how badly he craved a family until he was on the path of creating his own. He could start fresh, start a new family tree of the Munson name. A name that didn't have to be originated from prisoners, dealers, and being poor. He wanted the Munson name to be carried on through generations, with all good things behind it. Having a wife like Y/N take his name, told him he had a strong beginning.

She was around six months, her belly growing by the day. Together they made enough to buy a small home, in a safer neighborhood. Nothing too flashy, but it was their home and it meant everything. Eddie gagged at the thought of a white picket fence but he loved seeing it shine in the morning sun when Y/N watered the plants.

The nursery was nearly finished. The walls painted baby pink, and the furniture white. Eddie's favorite bands posted on the walls. He claimed their daughter needed to get her music journey started right away.

Eddie was the happiest he's ever been until an unwelcome visitor showed up at his door.

Y/N knew everything about Eddie, except his family. She knew Uncle Wayne and that was all. She respected that Eddie was private about his family and that he didn't care to share who they are.

So Y/N stood in shock when an older man stood at her door, the same shade of brown as her husband. A similar smile on the man's face, and a slightly bigger version of Eddie's nose.

"I'm looking for my brother," the man stated, looking her up and down. A tiny smirk on his face. But his smirk didn't give her butterflies, it made her stomach turn in a bad way.

She screamed for Eddie, a polite smile on her face. The longer Eddie took the more nervous she got.

"How far are you?" The man questioned, his hand reaching for her stomach.

She took a big sigh of relief when Eddie's hand shot out and stopped the man's touch from touching her. He stood in front of her. Completely blocking her view from the stranger.

"Little E, how the hell are you?" The stranger asked

"What are you doing here?" Eddie snapped. She watched as his body was stiff, she slipped her hand in his back pocket and stood on the side of him.

"Got out of jail, needed a place to crash. Wayne is going out of town and doesn't trust me alone in his place." The man rolled his eyes as he finished his sentence.

"I don't blame him since the last time you did you trashed it," Eddie said, his jaw was tight and his face was hard.

"Come on, E, help a brother out."

~~~

Eddie wasn't sure why he said yes, but he already regretted it watching the way his brother's eyes were glued to his wife.

"Quit staring," Eddie snarled, using his foot to kick him under the table.

Y/N hummed in the kitchen as she checked the chicken. Trying her best to keep her attention off of the two men at the dining table. She felt her body shudder underneath Michael's stare.

"Quite a woman you got there," Michael said, sipping on his beer

Eddie didn't say anything, accepting the silence instead.

Y/N smiled as she placed the food on the dinner table. Putting together a plate for Eddie and placing it in front of him.

"Gonna make me a plate, pretty girl?" Michael winked, his hand reaching forward to her wrist. She gulped and looked nervously at Eddie.

"Leave her alone." Eddie snapped

Michael put his hands up in surrender, making his own plate.

The three sat in silence.

~~~

Michael has been crashing on the couch for the past week, and every day he was getting on Eddie's last nerve.

Y/N worked from home and spent most of the day in her office, Eddie worked at a car dealership. He hated leaving for work and leaving her alone with Michael. He didn't trust Michael but Eddie's boss would also kick his ass for not showing up.

He kept his phone on him at all times, reminding Y/N to call the second she needed him to come home.

~~~

Michael said he found a friend to crash with and would be leaving shortly. Asking Y/N if she would help him clean his clothes and pack up his belongings. She honestly felt too scared to tell him no, silently scooping up his clothes and bringing them to the small laundry room. She excused herself to head into the shower. Eddie would be home within minutes so she felt safe to be in a vulnerable state, checking twice to make sure the door was locked.

~~~

Eddie pulled up in the driveway, bracing himself for another night of trying not to kill Michael with his bare hands. He walked in to see his house trashed, the cushion torn apart, and the cupboards all thrown open, he heard shuffling around in the bedroom. He raced to the noise to see Michael digging through their drawers.

"What the fuck? Are you trying to rob us?" Eddie asked in disbelief, Michael's backpack was filled with random items. Eddie yanked the bag out of his grip, dumping it all out on the bed.

He felt his blood boil when Y/N's ring fell out. But once his brain caught up with seeing the ring, his blood felt cold. She ONLY took it off when she was in the shower. Eddie turned his eyes to Michael, immediately shoving him against the wall.

"Where did you grab the ring?" He prayed with everything in him that she left it in the bedroom.

"She had it sitting on the bathroom counter, she couldn't see me with her back to me. Really hit the jackpot there, Eddie. Shes' smoking."

Eddie felt his stomach turn, he felt like he could throw up at any moment.

"You fucking pig. Don't talk about her." Eddie barked, twisting Michael's shirt in his grip.

"A really nice ass, I bet her tits ar-" But Eddie kicked Michael in the stomach before he could finish.

~~~

Y/N heard a commotion in the bedroom, fear in her stomach as she got covered herself in a towel and called Wayne. Racing out of the bathroom to see Eddie on top of Micahel, screaming and punching.

"OH MY GOD, EDDIE" She panicked, she knew getting in the way would put the baby in danger, but she has never seen Eddie so out of control.

The sound of her scream caused Eddie to freeze, and both men looked to see her.

"Eddie, stop," She said calmly. She placed her hand out, offering him to stand up. He took a deep breath and got off of Michael. Grabbing his bag and throwing it on him.

"You are out." Eddie snarled

Michael coughed as he tried to move his beaten-up body. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged Michael to his feet.

"I have his clothes," Y/N said, quickly running out to the laundry room.

Michael smirked as Eddie looked over at him.

"What asshole?" Eddie asked.

"I see why you knocked her up. When she was bent over that washing machine." Michael groaned, rubbing himself over his jeans.

Eddie lost it again, immediately throwing his body on his.

Y/N came back with the clothes to see Michael unconscious, but the look in Eddie's eyes was unrecognizable.

She didn't fear him, but she was worried for him.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Wayne came through the door, yanking Eddie off of Micahel.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Wayne instructed, grabbing the sides of Eddie's face, forcing his eyes to look at him.

Eddie's body was shaking, his knuckles cut open, and his breathing was quick and harsh.

Eddie locked his eyes on Waynes, allowing himself to calm down.

"I'll take care of him, hug your wife and go clean up."

Eddie listened in seconds, turning around to throw himself in his wife's arms. Allowing her to hide in his neck. She rubbed his back and cooed in his ear.

She took him to the bathroom to clean up his hands. Kissing each knuckle as she cleaned the blood.

"I'm sorry I let him stay here." Eddie sighed, he couldn't believe he was that dumb. He watched Wayne do the same thing with Eddie's dad for years, and yet he did the same thing.

"Don't be. You wanted to help and that was sweet of you." She said, standing between his legs as he sat on the counter.

They heard the front door close, Wayne and Michael officially gone.

"I'm sorry my family is a mess, this I why I never wanted you to know them." He added. His hands reached down to rub her stomach.

"Wayne is your family, I'm your family, and she is your family. That's the only family I care to know. Wayne raised the man I love and he is the only one I need to know. I have the two best Munsons in my life." She said, leaning up to peck his lips.

"Well, I get to have three." He smiled, kissing her back and his hand stayed on her stomach.

This was his real family.

~~~

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[m00nsbaby]

AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!

Word count. 823.

Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.

The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.

The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.

You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.

When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.

You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!

You hit send after the message.

You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.

And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.

You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.

For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.

Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.

You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.

You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.

You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.

"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.

When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.

"What happened, baby?"

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.

"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.

"Why are you giving up on me?"

You nearly killed him right then and there.

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.

"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."

The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.

Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?

"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."

"Huh? What mirror?"

"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."

You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.

Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.

Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.

"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."

[dandylovesturtles]

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 2 (not yet out)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Temptations - stepsister! ellie x fem reader

wk- 3.5k

summary- reader and ellie visit home for the summer after their time away at collage

additional tags: IM SORRY!! I know this is pushing it but it can’t be inc*st if they’re not blood related right? 🙃, reader is Joel’s bio daughter, sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, ellie is adopted, rocker! ellie, band! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, weed! mention, ellie is kinda awful in this, like typical f*ck boy beat, reader and ellie are polar opposites so they kinda don’t get along, reader is a overachiever, ellie is a deadbeat, nothing too crazy happens in this part, masturbation! warning (ellie), no physical description of reader, mutual pinning and gay longing etc…

part 1 - part 2

psa!! I know this isn’t for everyone!! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!! 🥰

——————————————————————————

The sweltering blaze of the summer Texas sun made my thighs stick to the leather seat of my 97' Buick as I exited the car.

I looked up at the pale yellow house, peeled siding, and a crooked white picket fence hugging the perimeter. It was familiar. It was home. Memories, good and bad, rested in the floorboards.

I stood in the driveway, the strap of my tank loosely hung off my shoulder, backpack slung over one arm, and the other weighed down by a suitcase.

"Hey- kiddo! You're late."

A man shouted from the front porch, waving his hand excitedly.

"I know. I'm sorry. Traffic was bad moving' through Houston." I gave the old man an apologetic smile as he met me halfway, pulling me in for a familiar embrace of musk and pine.

"Jus' glad you made it safe, is all. Dinners on the table. Hope yer hungry- I think I made too much." Joel gave me a smile, the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than I remembered.

He escorts me into the house, taking my bags from me and relieving me of the extra weight.

The house looks the same, but at the same time different. Smaller maybe? The furniture was in the same positions, the walls the same color, although slightly faded from the years.

"Can you go get yer sister? Tell her supper s' ready." The man asks as he turns to the staircase off the entry, bags in hand to put them in my old bedroom.

I tense, my body physically rejecting the idea of my sister- well, step sister.

I was hoping to make it here before she did, give me a few hours of peace before she'd ultimately ruin it.

When Ellie came into this family, it didn't take long for me to become jealous. She quickly clicked with Joel, bonding with him over things that he took an interest in; building shelves, working on cars, hell, even playing guitar.

It's not like I thought my dad loved Ellie more or anything. I knew I'd always be his little girl that got perfect grades and stayed out of trouble, but seeing how his face lit up when Ellie was by his side, grease smeared on her cheek made me heart seare.

I start to head up the stairs, following Joel's lead when I remembered she hasn't slept up there since she was a kid.

During Ellie's angsty teen years, she had begged Joel for days to let her move her bedroom in the basement, claiming "a growing girl needs her own space."

Joel always shot her down, but Ellie wouldn't let up. One night when I couldn't sleep, I got out of bed to get something to drink only to be met with Ellie's 16 year old string bean self pushing her mattress over the railing, and ever since then, the basement has been her territory.

I turn, slowly waking towards the door off of the kitchen that led to said basement, not a hint of enthusiasm in my step.

I creaked open the heavy door, and the wooden steps creaked beneath my feet with each step. Sounds of electronic gunshots and disgruntled curses grew louder as I reached the bottom.

I extend my neck around the corner of the cement room, clothes and empty cans scattered on the floor, music and movie posters filling every inch of the wall surface.

"Els...Ellie." I repeat her name, but she doesn't acknowledge it, her focus never straying from the first person shooter game on the tv. The LED lights that outlined the room turned the space into a purple hue.

My patience wearing thin, I yell her name one last time.

"What?!" Ellie huffed, tearing off the headset that covered her ears and looked at me.

"Dinner is ready." I said plainly, rolling my eyes before going back up the stairs.

"What? I don't even get a hello?"

Ellie yells from her still seated position, a cockiness tingled on her lips.

I scoff, rolling my eyes even harder even if she couldn't witness it. I picture that familiar smug smirk on her face that she had whenever she was trying to piss me off, and it was working.

Ellie loved toying with you like this since you were 16, and she was 17, poking and prodding at you as she sat back, and watched you get worked up. Ellie would never admit it to you, but she loved how no matter how little she tried to rile you up; you'd always bite.

"How's yer classes going? Likin' your teachers alright?" Joel asked between bites of his burger, his eyes glancing at me and over to Ellie, more specifically towards Ellie.

"Good... yeah, everything's good." I nod towards him, giving him a sincere smile to assure him.

Joel winked, smiling back like he knew he could count on me when it came to that sort of thing.

Ellie didn't respond, too busy shoving food in her face which made Joel kick her under the table, jolting her attention away from her plate.

"Ow! What the hell?" Ellie yelled, throwing her hands up.

"Yer classes, Ellie. How are you doin'?" The man asked, a seriousness overtaking his tone.

Ellie groaned, throwing her head back over the top of the wooden dining chair.

"They're fine. Stop worryin'." Ellie gave him a glare before diverting her attention back to her food.

I watch her from across the table, my legs crossed as I quietly ate which was the complete opposite of her.

Ellie's elbows rested on the oak table, her body slightly hunched as she devoured every last bite like she was a starved animal.

I stood at the sink, washing a cup when I felt a hand grab my hip from behind.

"Sorry- here's another one." Ellie talked into my neck, her fingers digging into my hip slightly. Her chest brushed against my back, and her lips too close to my neck. It felt suffocating.

I hadn't realized her presence had me washing the same cup for the entire interaction.

"Hey, Ellie-"

Joel's voice boomed, interrupted into the kitchen, causing Ellie to push herself away quickly.

Joel stood in the archway, his forearm coming up to lean against it.

"I haven't been down in the basement for a long time- please sleep upstairs. I don't need ya gettin' bit by a widow or somthin'."

Ellie groaned, her eyes lolling back into her skull, but she didn't argue.

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

Dinner was long over. Joel retreated into his bed room for the night, placing a kiss on the top of my head before doing so.

I was sitting on the couch; the tv show I was watching was the only source of light that illuminated the main floor.

It was quiet and peaceful, Ellie had gone back down to her dungeon shortly after dinner, playing video games by the sounds of it.

My quiet was disturbed as the heavy basement door swung open, revealing a homely looking Ellie. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, checkered green and blue boxers peaking above the waistband, and black wifebeater that snugged her torso.

"Isn't past your bed time, young lady?" Ellie teased as she opened the fridge, pulling out a beer before lazily making her way to the living room.

"Who cut your hair, Hellen Keller?" I snapped right back, a smirk on my lips as she took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh- ha. Ha. You're funny."

Ellie pulled a lighter out of the pocket of her pants, using the top to pop open the cap of the brown bottle.

Her chuckle was low and raspy as she brought the rim of the bottle to her lips, her head dipping back as she swallowed the liquid.

Ellie had changed a lot since the last time I saw her, almost two years ago. Her hair is shorter, choppier, and a darker shade of brown, almost black.

Ellie is also taller and more muscular like she really grew into herself. Her face has hardened, her cheeks and jaw more apparent than before.

I sneak peeks at her, looking her over and familiarize myself with my step sisters new look. My eyes travel down to the dark green-blue ink that covered her forearm, a moth with fern leaves. It was pretty, almost too delicate looking compared to her, but it suited her.

My eyes scale down further to her hands, long fingers and a prominent veins that curved along. I have to give it to her, she always had beautiful hands.

"Take a picture it will last longer."

Ellie's voice jolted me out of my trance, my head quickly turning back to the tv.

I try to think of something- anything to cover my tracks.

"Don't get cocky- I was looking at your tattoo. It's nice... who did it?"

Ellie lifted her arm, turning it over to observe it.

"My ex. She bought a tattoo gun online and needed someone to practice on." Ellie said nonchalantly, shrugging before looking back up at the tv.

"Well- she did good. Why is she your ex now? You should've kept her around and gotten tatted up." I ask with genuine interest.

Ellie shrugged, taking another sip of her beer.

"Dunno- We kinda just fell out? Plus she caught me with another chick and freaked out." Ellie stated, not a hint of guilt after just admitting she's a cheater.

Somehow it didn't surprise me after all the girls she'd bring home after school. I'd see the same girl come over a few times within the week, only for the girl to be replaced by a different girl, and the cycle continued like that until she left for college.

"You think your big sis is a bad person now?" Ellie asked, a grin on her lips and she took another sip.

"It doesn't make me think of you any differently." I lied. It did make me think of her differently; I started to imagine what her sex life was like.

What's so great about her? That had these girls constantly following her home like a lost puppy. Surely, it's not her sunshine personality.

My mind flicks back to her hands, my eyes still glued to the tv. Her long and rough, calloused fingers must be the magic touch.

Ellie hummed at my response unconvincingly. The light from the tv illuminated the freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"The fuck are we watching anyways? Some cheesy reality show? Wait- is this the gay one?"

Ellie's voice piqued in interest, her back shimming further back into the cushion to her comfortable.

"Um- yeah, why?"

I ask, side eyeing her, not really understanding what the big deal was.

********

The big deal was; Ellie never knew if you were into girls; or not. She tried to figure it out for years, carefully observing the people you brought home for school. You didn't make it easy, and truthfully you were kinda a loner, only having a few close friends that you'd invite over.

Although there was that one time; you came home from school with a different girl that Ellie had never seen before, and when Ellie tried introducing herself, you quickly took the mystery girl's hand in yours and ran upstairs, locking the two of you in your bedroom.

Ellie fought herself over it for a long time, trying to picture you with a girl. She wondered if you had kissed another girl, held another girl's hand, and it drove Ellie fucking insane.

Ellie had a dark secret that she wouldn't dare say out loud and definitely would never let you know about it.

Ellie started thinking about you a lot after you turned 16, and they were almost never innocent thoughts. When you turned 16 it was like Aphrodite came down to earth and blessed you herself.

Ellie wasn't proud that she had these thoughts, I mean, you were her little sis after all, but it didn't stop her from picturing you whenever she fucked random college girls in the fraternity bathrooms.

********

Ellie shushed my question, motioning for me to turn it up and I do.

Four episodes in, both of us were dead silent as we watched the horror that is reality tv dating shows. We shared glances at each other whenever one of the cast members said something outrageous, but other than that, we just watched and enjoyed the presence of one another.

It was getting late, my eyes grew heavy and harder to keep open.

"Alright- it's gettin' late, and I have to shower still. Pick this up tomorrow?" I pause the tv and stand up with a yawn.

Ellie pleaded for one episode, holding her hands in a prayer. I stand my ground, promising her we can binge it tomorrow and that seemed to work.

We go up the stairs, Ellie following close behind as we mumble goodnights to each other before we go into our designated bedrooms.

I rummage through my suitcase, pulling out a over sized t-shirt and underwear.

I turn on the light in the bathroom, closing the door, but not all the way. It was a bad habit that I never grew out of, leaving the bathroom door open a few inches whenever I took a shower or bath. I did it because growing up, I was terrified of the bathroom, scared I'd get locked in and somehow the lights go out, and the grudge lady would be hiding in the shower.

I slip off my jeans and my tank, dropping them to the floor and turn on the water. I wait, holding my hand under the stream until the temperature was up to my standards.

I get in, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles from sitting in a car all day. I felt the tenseness of my shoulders relax and my heart rate slowing down to a more relaxed pace.

***********

Ellie laid in bed, her arm folding under her head as the springs in the mattress poked her back. She scrolled through various apps, checking social media, playing games and repeating.

The sound of the water running in the room down the hall could be heard faintly in Ellie's old bedroom. The walls were still painted a dark shade of blue, with doodles of planets and rockets hand painted by Ellie herself.

Joel couldn't bring himself to paint over them.

The joint (or a few joints) Ellie smoked after dinner; was starting to kick in and made her crave some sort of barbaric concoction.

Pickles with peanut butter, maybe?

Ellie sighed, lifting her myself from the bed lazily, scratching the back of her neck before she turned the nob.

Ellie entered the long stretch of the hall, passing your bedroom the illuminated with a soft pink hue. Coming up on the bathroom, she paused.

At first, she wanted to tease you, to scold you for still keeping the bathroom open when you showered. You weren't a little kid anymore, and you needed to grow up in Ellie's mind.

On the other hand, Ellie was intrigued. She found herself peeking through the gap, the steamed glass door of the shower made it hard to make out details, but it was enough.

She felt wrong about it. One part of her was pulling her body away, telling her to stop looking, but the other part of her (the more fucked up part) couldn't look away.

Her eyes trailed up the profile of your body; pausing momentarily at points of interest.

Ellie didn't know it at the time, but she was biting down on her lip hard as she looked at the curve of your ass, plump and full, and the way your tits sat so high and perky.

Her hand coming down to cup her cunt, rolling her wrist against her clit. A moan escapes her lips as she continued to watch.

The sound of the water shutting off made Ellie snap back to her senses. She quickly backed away from the door and as quickly and quietly, as she could, made her way back to her bedroom and shut the door.

She fell into the mattress, taking a deep and shaky breath as she realizes what she's done. A wave of guilt washed over her- no, more like a tsunami. You were her step sisters, and even worse you've know eachother since Ellie was 14 and you were 13. You practically grew up together, but how would've Ellie known you'd grow into that.

Ellie couldn't deny she thought you were beautiful. Not just the fake, superficial type of beauty, but naturally, you were breathtaking to her, and your body matched.

As Ellie conflicted with herself, she continued to picture you. She imagined what you looked like underneath her, what you sounded like when she was splitting you open.

The guilt was replaced by lust and hormones, but mostly; lust.

Her hand crept down to the hemp of her boxers, slipping inside. Her other hand grabbed the bottom of her tank and brought it up to hold between her teeth- leaving her breasts exposed.

Ellie's fingers glided along her folds, coating them in her slick. She teased her entrance, rubbing gentle circles around her clit.

"Fuuuck- look what you do t' me, y/n" Ellie stifled a moan, dropping the fabric from her teeth as her middle finger sunk into her pussy, pumping in and out, slowly.

She moaned your name; over and over, adding another finger and quickening the pace.

The scene was honestly pathetic. Ellie's sweats and boxers tugged down to her knees, not bothering to take them off completely. Her breasts were the only thing holding the tank up, her hardened nipples- red and swollen as she harshly tugged at them.

"Fuu- your s-so wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Huh?" Ellie babbled and stuttered, gritting through her teeth as she reached closer to her peak.

She pictured this is what you felt like as she sunk her fingers inside, curling against the spongy walls, hitting the spot that made you squirm with each pump.

She wanted to hear you beg, wanted to hear you say her name over and over until it didn't sound like a word anymore.

"Fuu-fuckin' bitch- d-dirty fuckin' whore-" Ellie curses, jaw slacked and her eyebrows furrowed upwards. Her rhythm became jagged as her hips bucked upwards, fucking herself through her orgasm.

Ellie panted, sprawled across the bed as bolts of electricity continued to send shock waves through her body.

Her inner thighs glistened, her breasts malled and violated.

It was official, Ellie had hit a new level of fucked up, but that's okay as long as you never find out.

It's not like you had your ear pressed against the wall as soon as you heard strange noises coming from your step sisters bedroom.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other. 

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year?  Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?" 

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

 "O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me." 

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time. 

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name. 

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist. 

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do. 

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

[unstable-samural]

THE NEW GIRL NEXT DOOR WANTS YOU - smut

Miyeon x Male Reader

one-shot

tags: blowjob, teasing, strangers tor lovers, penetration, creampie, girl next door

[Note: English is not my native language, So possible grammar errors and more rigid prose can be found in the text. But I ask that you give it a chance, if I don't give up on this, I will work hard, bringing longer and more effortful stories:)

This is the first version, I will eventually correct whatever is wrong.]

History:

The moving team worked very hard. Fortunately it would be a quick job. One of the many advantages of being a single and minimalist man: little furniture. Y/N helped the moving team by picking up the most delicate boxes that contained electronics and fragile objects. The neighborhood was beautiful on that calm afternoon, the golden sun radiated the green grass and the white fences of the houses on the street.

"Man, I'm going to love living here", thought Y/N, sighing with satisfaction.

He noticed that the neighboring house on the right had a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe it was a kind old lady who lived there. The whole flower and decoration thing indicated that. He still didn't know any of his neighbors. Y/N cut off his thoughts and returned to his task. It didn't take long to get everything inside the house, anyway.

The interior of the residence now had some furniture scattered throughout the rooms and several boxes that needed to be opened. Y/N wasn't in a hurry, he would do everything calmly, after all, it's not like visitors were going to show up anytime soon...

Well, he was wrong about that.

While he was drinking water, the doorbell rang, slightly startling him. Y/N really thought he was going to be completely alone, at least for the first few weeks until he adjusted to the neighborhood. The person at the door was probably one of the neighbors wanting to welcome him or something. Y/N was exhausted as hell, but he couldn't start things in this new city by ignoring people like that.

To his surprise, the one on the other side of the door was a beautiful young blonde. She holding a box of chocolate.

"Hello, new neighbor! I came to welcome you to the neighborhood." She said, quite excited.

The girl was wearing a red flowery dress that highlighted her small body.

"Hello! Are you one of my neighbors?"

"I'm the girl next door. I brought this to you." She handed him the box of chocolates.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you very much. What's your name?"

"My name is Miyeon." She smiled at him. It was a charming smile.

"Y/N."

He reached out to shake her hand, but Miyeon pulled him into a hug. Y/N couldn't help but enjoy the heat her body emanated, the sweet scent was also delirious.

"I was watching you when you were bringing the furniture into the house." She revealed it to him.

"Serious?" Y/N questioned. "I did not see you."

"You seemed focused on the task."

"It must have been because of that. Are you, by any chance, the owner of that beautiful flower bed?"

"Yes! It's mine! I've been taking care of it for about two years. It's my greatest pride!" She told him, her little eyes sparkled with joy. "It's not very common for men to pay attention to flower beds and things like that. You're quite observant, Y/N."

"I think we both are."

Miyeon laughed, her cheeks flushed.

"I hope you like the chocolates."

"They look great."

"Do you have anything for dinner at your house?" Miyeon asked.

"Actually, I was thinking about ordering a pizza."

"Save the pizza for tomorrow. I can make you dinner at my house and bring it to yours. We both eat together. What do you think?"

Y/N quickly thought that: even if he was delirious with fever he would still be unable to refuse a proposal like that.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would love that."

"Me too! Then I'll see you later."

"I'll be waiting for you."

She said goodbye to him and went to her house.

He wasted no time getting ready. Y/N ran to the bathroom to take a well-deserved hot shower. In the shower he felt silly for being so excited about that dinner, he almost looked like a 15 year boy on first date. But Miyeon was a really beautiful and attractive woman, as well as incredibly friendly. He didn't expect a blessing like that to happen so suddenly on his first day in the new house. "Miracles happen," he thought. And also, after the last relationship, he deserved to breathe new air.

Breathe new women.

Y/N played poker on his laptop sitting on the sofa in the living room. The internet would only be turned on the next day, and he was starting to feel a bit of withdrawal from not being connected. But when deciding to leave the troubled capital, he should also get used to being a little offline. All the social media shit had been fucking with his brain for a while.

"I need to learn gardening or something.", he thought.

The doorbell again. And now Y/N didn't feel fear when he heard it, but rather excitement. Y/N took the notebook off his lap and placed it on the sofa, combed his hair a little more with his fingers and went to open the door.

"I hope you like lasagna!" Miyeon exclaimed, carrying a glass baking dish with both hands.

Y/N barely managed to speak since he opened the door. She was dressed really provocatively, and acted like she didn't give a shit, totally casual. She had placed the lasagna on the kitchen counter. The two were sitting on the sofa. Miyeon was cross-legged, and the short skirt she was wearing wasn't able to hide even half of those juicy thighs.

"You're going to live alone, right?" She asked.

"Yes. Do you live alone too?"

"Correct. I used to live in the capital, but I got tired of the traffic, the people there, all the futility and stuff. My job luckily allows me to live anywhere I want."

"We're not much different then."

"You also lived in the capital?!" She asked, amazed.

"Exactly."

"Now I'm sure we'll get along great." Miyeon commented, and casually placed her hand on Y/N's knee.

It was soft and warm. A thought came over him and he imagined her sliding that hand to his thigh, and from his thigh to his groin. Just by vaguely imagining this scene, Y/N felt his dick harden inside his pants.

"You know, I was actually watching you move in. You caught my attention. In fact, I've seen you since you came here last month to look at the house." Miyeon's voice was no longer animated from before. It was now in a low and sweet tone. Sexy. "I hoped you would become my new neighbor."

"I think if I had seen you too, I would have moved here a lot quicker."

She smiled.

"You're sweet" Miyeon slid the hand that was on Y/N's knee to his thigh. "And naughty."

"Why you say that?"

"Because I can see your hard dick in your pants."

Y/N couldn't contain himself and placed his hand on Miyeon's thigh. The grip was so intense and sudden that she couldn't take it and let out a muffled moan.

"I can't control myself with you dressed like that" he said, looking intensely into her eyes.

"I don't want you to control yourself, darling." when she finished speaking she jumped into Y/N's lap. He grabbed her small waist and started kissing Miyeon on every corner of her face: cheek, mouth, chin and neck. She was totally surrendered, and felt between her legs how hard his dick was.

Y/n slid his fingers along the strap of Miyeon's crop top, feeling the soft texture of her skin under her eager touches. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered the strap and, to his surprise and delight, saw that she was not wearing a bra. Miyeon's small but perfectly formed breasts were exposed. Without hesitation, Y/N leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking it voraciously as his tongue played with the sensitive tip. Miyeon arched her back in response, moaning loudly with the pleasure that coursed through her body. "Yes, baby!" she said between muffled moans.

"I love having my breasts sucked. They are sensitive. This makes me so excited." She commented, ecstatic.

As Y/N occupied himself with her tits, Miyeon felt more and more aroused, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. With hands shaking with desire, she got off Y/N's lap, her mind fixed on one thing: completely drooling over that hard, thick cock that was waiting for her. In one agile movement, she unbuttoned Y/N's pants, eager to taste what was underneath.

Miyeon played with Y/N, caressing the dick that was inside his underwear with desire. "Make him wet for me, baby," she begged, slyly. Miyeon started kissing Y/N's dick. The warm, soft lips through the cotton of his underwear gave him indescribable pleasure. "Keep going...argh!! This feels so, so good," he sighed. It didn't take long for the underwear to become damp where the glans of the cock was. Y/N let out an anticipatory moan when Miyeon released his dick. He breathed quickly when he felt the skillful caress of her lips wrapping around his cock, which was pulsing with excitement. Y/N's eyes closed instinctively, getting lost in the overwhelming sensations that Miyeon's mouth provided. Every suck, every moan of pleasure she made, every flick of her tongue, pushed him closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.

With a husky moan, Y/N pulled away from Miyeon before she made him cum, her eyes shining with lust as he made her stand. "Sit on the sofa and open your legs for me!", he ordered, and she smiled at the order. With eager hands, he lifted Miyeon's skirt, exposing her wet, pink pussy to him. Without hesitation, he dove between her legs, his tongue finding the right spot of pleasure that made her tremble with desire. Miyeon's moans echoed through the room, her mixing with the sound of wet and obscene movements that filled the air while stroking Y/N's hair.

Finally, momentarily satiated by the intensity of pleasure, Y/N sat down on the couch, her eyes burning with desire as he watched her hungry for more. With a husky, lust-filled voice, he ordered her to ride him, giving in completely to the desire that consumed them. Miyeon didn't need any further encouragement, riding Y/N with a ferocity that only increased the intensity of the pleasure they shared. Her pussy turned out to be very tight and incredibly delicious. The hip movements were incredible, the skirt was lifted to the waist, while the top was pulled down. It was beautiful the way she rode on his lap, so that Y/N didn't want to close his eyes just to see her moving smoothly and steadily on top of him.

"Daddy!" She blurted out of her mouth.

"Do you like riding your Daddy?!"

"I love it! I love it! I love it!" She moaned louder and louder.

"Just like that! Yeah! Such a good girl!"

"Argh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Miyeon moaned following the rhythm of her hips going back and forth simultaneously. That was art!

"What you said before?" Y/N asked between moans and heavy breathing. "Your boobs are sensitive, right?"

Y/N took his back from the back of the sofa and hugged Miyeon. He could wrap his entire body around her, and that was delicious, because that was what he felt like doing with her: wrapping himself completely around Miyeon until he ejaculated.

Y/N grabbed Miyeon's waist and it was as if she already knew what he was going to do because she automatically arched her back so he could suck her boobs. This made her go crazy immediately. "So good..." she moaned. Miyeon started to ride faster as she became delirious with pleasure.

"Like this! Keep sucking my little tits, Daddy! Oh!How naughty you are! You suck so good!"

Y/N squeezed Miyeon's ass tightly while licking one of her nipples without stopping. She was moaning incredibly loudly.

"Slap my ass, Daddy!"

"Ask again!"

"Spank my ass, Daddy. Slap it until it turns red, please!" She screamed.

He slapped her while she rode frantically. Y/N was going crazy with so much pleasure.

"I'm going to cum!" He groaned in her ear.

"Cum inside me, baby! Let's cum together!"

"I can?"

"Yes! I'm taking the pills.

Y/N thrust her hips making her accelerate at a pace she had no control over.

"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She said.

"Cum for me!"

"I'm going to cum on your cock, Daddy!" She screamed, then wrapped her arms around Y/N's back, scratching him in the act.

Miyeon flexed her thighs on his lap as her pussy squirted, gyrating her hips and rolling her eyes in pleasure. Those movements involved all the sensitive receptors in Y/N's dick, and that was the end for him, cumming inside her, pressing Miyeon's body against him, while she said:

"How delicious! I feel your hot cum inside me... Uhhh!" Her entire body shook. "Now it was dripping..."

She remained astride him for a few moments longer, while cum slowly dripped down her pale thighs. Y/N kissed her, slowly and tenderly.

"That was amazing!" He said. His body was completely relaxed and the brain had reset itself. Little by little reality returned to his mind.

Miyeon got off his lap and it was a surprise for both of them to see that his dick was still a little hard.

"Can you handle another round later?" She asked, giving him a teasing look. "I haven't felt this hot for someone in a long, long time."

"We can have sex after dinner. Now I'm starving... Damn, the lasagna must have gotten cold!"

"Do you know what the second best thing is to sex?" She asked, trying to hide a laugh.

"Hmm, i don't think so."

"Microwave!"

[fraugwinska]

Hi! Okay, damn, sorry, i tried to chill out and not request again so quickly 😅 but I've been constantly thinking about your writing, and I've read all your Alastor one shots like 10 times each...

I'm especially hung up on the ending of More than Words, I did not expect you to end it in such a sweet way and honestly I'd love to see a follow up to that, basically a part two :)

Plot wise I was thinking:

It's been a few weeks since the two of you fell asleep on the couch and Charlie is getting impatient since nothing else happened between Alastor and reader but she can see the way the two looks at each other when they think no one is watching. So, Charlie being Charlie, makes up a plan to set you two up. She also involves everyone at the hotel and some people outside (Rosie) - she makes it so whenever there's some activity, you two are always paired up, or Rosie invites you both for dinner but five minutes into it she leaves saying she forget about something important. And you notice what she's trying to do and while you do appreciate it, you also see that Alastor feels anxious and pressured (you see that but not the fact he's growing feeling for you), so you decide to talk with her. And Alastor hears everything? And we get another amazing sweet emotional ending? 👀🥰

Last thing last - please do not feel pressured to write it or anything, i just wanted to share this with you cause it's been on my mind 😅❤️

You ask - the fluff fairy delivers! 🧚✨ I loved More than words, so I was super happy and excited to write a continuation - and it's as fluffy and wholesome as can be! :> Thank you, Anon, for the suggestion and your beautiful, kind words!!!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Louder than Words

"...and with Niffty choosing Husk, that leaves you two."

Charlie clapped her hands together with a gleeful smile, eyes darting between an annoyed looking Alastor and an annoyed looking you.

"Yes. That leaves us.", you sigh.

"Again.", Alastor adds, the smile on his lips twitching.

"Oh come on, guys, don't be such spoilsports. Look at how much fun this is!" she gestured to a blindfolded and beaten up Vaggie, cursing at Angel in Spanish who howled with laughter as he pushed her through Charlies makeshift obstacle course with much too much carelessness.

"Well I'll be damned. Ange actually managed to get her to to run into the same desk twice without gettin' punched.", Husk said in amused bewilderment, just as a loud "OUCH, ey, stop it Vagina!" was heard. Niffty giggled, blindfolding herself and taking Husks paw. The cat groaned but started to lead her - or more she dragged him - through the course, constantly (almost purposely) hitting something in her way.

You and Alastor looked at each other.

"Well, I guess you don't feel like going through a minefield of office furniture.", you shrugged, and took the last blindfold from Charlies hands, ignoring her excited squeal as you put it on. "Don't let me run into the coffee table, my shins still hurt from last weeks bonding exercise..."

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well, then."

This was getting out of hand. As you felt Alastor's hand on your back, pushing you into the blindness forward, you thought about the last few bonding and trust exercises and how blatantly obvious Charlie was in her determination to get you and Alastor together.

At first you didn't mind, since she didn't make you do anything that wasn't bearable. On one activity, you had to tell your partner what you appreciated about them, that had been easy. Before Alastor could turn to Niffty, who stood next to him, she had almost hauled herself away, insisting on Angel as her partner, and Angel - next to you - nodded with unfitting eagerness. Alastor told you about how good you were at listening and giving good advice, and you had told him you loved the way he spoke - the accent, his way of choosing words and the melodic voice he had, and that you liked his laugh. Easy.

On another activity, Charlie made everyone pair up (of course, you were Alastor's partner, and this time you were sure the sticks you drew were marked by Charlie and Husk by the way they had shared mischievous looks) and hug their partner for five minutes. That had been less fun. You were much too aware how averse Alastor was to physical touch, and although he could've had it worse with Angel or Vaggie, you still felt bad when you saw the look on his face as Charlie set the timer. "We don't have to, Al. I can just sit this one out.", you had told him, but with a pained smile, he wrapped his arms around you stiffly, holding you in an awkward embrace. "It's alright dear, just... stay still, would you?" It had been a weird, uncomfortable silence, those five minutes. You avoided any touch yourself and did not dare to look him in the eyes, so to not make it any more weird for him.

It had taken you a long time to understand that the radio demon was, in it's essence, just another former human being turned sinner. A man with a lot of traumas and issues, who had died and gone to hell. Not a good person by heavenly standards... by most standards really, being an overlord and cannibal and all, but in hell that didn't really mean anything, you were all there for a reason. It certainly meant nothing to you. With a lot of work from your end, he had learned to trust you, and in return he let you get to know him, step by step.

But all these efforts could go down the drain at this infuriating persistence of everyone around you to force something that shouldn't be forced. Alastor was already uncomfortable at being touched, already hesitant to share things from his past, or his feelings, already on the fence of showing genuine kindness and trust. The last thing you wanted was to lose all the progress you've made with him.

The feeling of his arms around you had burned itself into your memory, and the scent of him had stuck to your skin for a long time. You weren't stupid, it had been a long time coming, this goddamn crush on him, this fluttering feeling one gets when getting too close to another. You had fallen for him a long time ago, and you could argue with reason all you wanted - it didn't change the fact you liked Alastor more than just a friend. BUT - and this but was important - he never had shown any interest in relationships, romance, love or anything. And that was fine. You were content to have him in your life, and if that was as 'just' trusted friends, you would still take it in a heartbeat.

"Watch out, darling, armchair to your left." Alastor's voice, right next to your ear, made you flinch. "Careful now, the carpet is starting to change into hardwood.", he warned and you nodded, taking careful steps. You had no idea where you were in the foyer, or if you were nearing the door or the stairs. "Are we anywhere close to the finish line?", you asked him and you heard his quiet chuckle.

"Oh no, we still have quite a way to go. Don't worry, my dear, I'll make sure you're not going to run into the remains of the cupboard Niffty just destroyed." His hand on your waist, guiding you, made you swallow nervously.

That gesture reminded you of another instance of your friends overreaching insistence - your visit at Rosie's last week. Rosie, your long-time friend, had invited you and Alastor for a dinner party. She had sent a message through Charlie (which should have been your first clue that something was not right), but both of you had decided to go, because who were you to deny her hospitality? You had been surprised to find her emporium so... empty, when you entered. No servants, no other guests, no one. Only you, Alastor and Rosie, sitting in her lounge chatting about the newest gossip of hellish politics before she served a whole feast of venison, various vegetables and side dishes, all of which had looked exquisite and overly fancy.

She had left almost as soon as you and Alastor sat down, saying she forgot to pick up something important from across the colony, and to not wait on her while she rushed out of the room with a glistening smile. You had watched her suspiciously, knowing she was up to something. It didn't take a genius to realize she was trying to set you two up, and Alastor seemed to have understood the same, because of the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly uncomfortable and tense the whole evening. It had been a somewhat awkward affair, the two of you eating and desperately chatting, unwilling to waste the food. But you couldn't even get a proper bite down your throat with how much your stomach was twisting.

When Rosie returned, she found you sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, while Alastor was absent.

"Did something happen?", she had asked you with a pinch of impish curiosity, and you had replied "No. Nothing." in a dry tone. She had sat down next to you, asking how dinner had been, and if the two of you enjoyed yourselves. "Oh yes, it was lovely, although your seat empty surely was a little damper on the fun." you had answered, giving her a fake smile. You never saw her that abashed before. When Alastor returned to bring you back to the hotel, the walk had been... silent. Awkward, as you hung on his arm he had presented you, with him unable to look you in the eyes and you not wanting to press him into more talking. When you had arrived home, he guided you through the double doors, his hand on your waist, before quickly saying good night and melting into his shadows to rush away into his room, leaving you alone in the dark foyer.

It was like you were standing on glass, always having an eye out to make sure others wouldn't push too hard and break the thin ice you walked on, with a dangerous fondness deep beneath the surface, too fragile to poke.

"...listening, Darling?"

"Huh? What?"

You felt the blindfold being removed from your eyes, the sudden light blinding you.

"You look a little flushed my dear." you blinked your eyes, only to see Alastor stand directly in front of you, just barely out of arms reach, staring you in the face with a scrutinizing expression. "The exercise is over, we made it through the course without a scratch, I hope I didn't cause you any discomfort."

It took a moment for you to realize that you stood at the edge of the maze of furniture, but what really knocked you off your balance was the way Alastor's head was tilted slightly to one side, his crimson eyes almost boring through you, staring deep into your soul, as if he was looking for you, truly seeing you, and how he reached out a sharp tipped hand towards you with the look of worry on his face. You took a step back, laughing nervously and raking a hand through your hair.

"All good, Al. I'm just glad there's no imprint of my face on any of the cupboards." You saw him jerk his hand back with a pained smile. "Splendid.", he laughed, the edges of it trembling. He looked everywhere but at you, "Shall we join the others, then?"

You followed him to one of the sofas and let yourself fall on the plush cushions next to him. You watched his ears twitch as Angel hollered a jubilant cheer of Vaggie's name, who finally reached the end of the course, the blood on her shins almost dried. Husk patted a panting Niffty on the back with a fond look, while Charlie cheered as Angel bowed for her with a big grin.

"Told 'ya the spicy taco and I could make it out alive and in one piece, Charls!"

Vaggie gave Angel a deathly glance, then sighed. "It's high time for lunch, hon. All the blood loss made me hungry..."

The group collectively agreed and headed towards the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly with each other. You couldn't help but give Alastor, who kept his gaze anywhere else than to you, a look, furrowing your brow. This had to stop, now.

"Charlie, do.... do you have a minute?"

The princess stopped to look at you, her smile disappearing and her eyes widening as she saw the stern expression on your face.

"Uh- Yeah, sure.", she shot Vaggie a look, as if begging for her help, but you just grabbed her hand and pulled her away into a nearby corridor while the others snickered and headed off, telling them to take their time. Charlie gave you a nervous glance, and the pitiful face of guilt only worsened your mood.

"Charlie, I know you mean well, but you have to stop."

"Listen, I didn't mean any harm..." Her face was full of pitiful remorse. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"I'm aware of that, Charlie, but you are making Al uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, really, that's not my intention! I just Thought you two need a little push in the right..."

"This whole... THIS might end our friendship all together and I don't want to take that risk! You're even getting the others involved. For fuck's sake, even Rosie is in on it. Al doesn't want this - us, relationship-thing, WHATEVER, and it is not okay for you to press us!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "But you want it."

"What?", you said, irritated.

"You're only talking about him, and his feelings. But what I'm hearing is, that you... you like him, right? You'd say yes to..."

Tears of frustration shot into your eyes. Why didn't Charlie get it? "That doesn't matter. It's not something only one can decide, you should know that. He doesn't feel the same, and that's fine. He doesn't want to be with me, and that's fine. I can accept that. What I can't accept is the way you're hellbent on forcing a relationship on us. He is happy the way we are, and I don't want you and the others to mess that up."

You turn away from her, angry and hurt. "I just... want him to be happy. To have his boundaries respected."

"I... I'm sorry...", Charlie started, but you already walked off.

You were angry. Angry at Charlie, angry at everyone, angry at yourself. Almost at your doorstep, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Dearest? I'd like to talk, if that's alright with you."

It was Alastor. Of course it was Alastor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a feeling of dread and guilt washing over you, as if he had overheard the entire conversation, and you slowly turned around, swallowing. He didn't seem upset, but his face was calm and serious, not the usual cheerful smile on his lips.

"Of course."

He held the door to your own room open for you, closing it behind him after you entered.

"Take a seat, Darling, if you would."

You sat down, hands in your lap, avoiding his gaze, looking at your carpet with feigned interest. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a painful stinging sensation in your stomach.

"Darling, would you look at me, please."

With a heavy sigh, you obliged, looking up.

"Al, listen, I'm sorry...", you started, but were interrupted by the radio demon's hand, raising up.

"Please. Let me talk, would you, my dear."

You closed your mouth, and he nodded, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I'm a... difficult man. And I am not exactly the best in understanding the feelings of others. I also know that the princess and - under her meticulous orchestration - our fellow residents, are quite adamant in their endeavor to try and push us together."

You swallowed, hard. The way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

"Al, listen, it's alright, I've talked to Charlie and I'll tell the others to stop..."

"Darling, would you PLEASE shut up for a minute?"

The room was suddenly silent. He rarely talked like that to you.

"As I was saying..." He sighed, and you couldn't help but think he was utterly frustrated. You felt horrible. "I don't appreciate it when people assume what I want or don't want."

"Neither do I.", you mumbled, and he let out a laugh.

"That is precisely my point, Darling." Alastor took a few steps towards you, his cane twirling in his hands before he poofed it out of existence. "And as such, I've been pondering for a while how to proceed. The way the others keep pestering us, I thought it's better to clear things up between us."

Your heart sank. So he did overhear your conversation with Charlie, after all. You couldn't blame him. You would've done the same.

"Alastor, I understand..."

"Do you now?", he asked, tilting his head to one side, an incredulous smirk playing on his lips. Lips that were suddenly awfully close to your own. When did he get so close? Why did he get so close?!

Everything slowed down - his arm snaked around your waist, his hand came up to your neck, a thumb caressing the little dip of the bottom of your jaw. Your trembling hands came to rest on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat hammering underneath the fabric of his jacket. His eyes, those beautiful crimson eyes, were fixed on yours, and your breath came out in a shaky sigh before his lips closed over yours, kissing you so softly and sweetly you could barely comprehend what was happening. Your fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life, and as he deepened the kiss, you gasped, your whole body tensing, melting, yearning.

It felt like a dream, an out of body experience, and for a short, panicked moment, you felt the cold, hard grip of fear around your heart. What if it was just a dream, and when you wake up, everything is back to the way it was before? What if he would pull away any moment, and apologize, saying he made a mistake?

But the fear disappeared almost immediately, when Alastor hummed contently, and pulled you even closer to him.

You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his hand on your neck got tangled in your hair, how his breath was mingling with yours, and the scent of him filled your nose. The faint smell of spices, old books, wood and something like burnt amber, a scent you would never get enough of.

"Now tell me, dearest, if you understood.", he murmured against your lips, the grin audible in his voice.

"I... might need a little more explanation."

You could almost hear him roll his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you again, and his laughter against your lips made your heart skip more than just one beat. The sound of wood cracking and a loud rumble snapped both of your heads towards your door.

In a pile of heads and limbs, five bodies fell through the splintered wood of your door frame, groaning in pain, the remains of the door still swinging in its hinges.

Alastor looked at the pile of eavesdroppers, a wide, dangerous grin on his face.

"Dear me, what an entrance. I wonder, did the door offend you, or was that the result of a lack of proper manners?"

Angel, being the first to poke his head out of the groaning mess of sinners, pointed at you with one of his arms, the others fisted the air in victory.

"A-HA! WE FUCKING DID IT, fuck yeah!"

Niffty, the next one to crawl out of the pile, nodded eagerly.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!", she chanted, jumping up and down excitedly on a groaning Husk's back.

Charlie's face came into view, a guilty look on her face as she untangled the others in a hurry, shoving them out of the door.

"Uh, so, sorry, the door was kinda in the way. Didn't want to interrupt anything, sooo, We're just gonna... get back to cooking."

With her tail between her legs, the flustered princess and her entourage vanished faster than the speed of light, leaving you and Alastor alone with your heart pounding fast, your hands still clutching the front of the overlords jacket, and his arms around your waist in a protective embrace, your breaths mingling.

"Would it bother you terribly if I killed them?", Alastor growled low in his throat, his smile widening.

You just couldn't stop grinning. "As tempting as that is... I rather you don't. For now, that is. Ask me again when they are finished cooking."

He returned your smile. "Fair enough, dear."

He closed the gap between you and his lips meet yours halfway in a soft, and most certainly not-enough-to-last-a-lifetime kind of kiss. You thought you could get used to this.

"I'm sure they can handle lunch by themselves, don't you think?", he hummed into your ear. You didn't trust your voice to reply, and simply nodded.

"Wonderful."

Tagging all commenters on 'More than words', because LOVE @mysterypotatoink @ladyzaunis @penelope-potter @lustylita @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @katgirl05 @deadt3tinside and @minkdelovely (for the daily dose of fluff)

[auspicioustidings]

Kiss in Payment

Summary: Continuation of Services/Goods of Equivalent Value. You have opened a teashop near an off record military base and this is a bunch of snippets of your life there.

Words: 7.5k (HOW?!)

You hadn't slept in a real bed in so long and you were not prepared to get out of it. It smelled good and it was warm and you were tired right down to your bones from all the work of the past 6 months finally culminating in the busiest and happiest evening you had possibly ever had. Only half awake you nuzzled into the pillow with a happy little sigh of contented comfort.

"Feels better than sleeping in a chair doesn't it?"

At first you smiled sleepily and made a sound of agreement. And then your brain caught up and you shot up, eyes opening and darting around madly to find you were in a small, simple bedroom and Simon was sat in the chair in the corner, book in hand being dogeared and set on a little table now that you were awake.

You had seen most of his face before when he was drinking or eating so seeing the whole thing wasn't any more of a shock than the situation you had found yourself in. It was a little strange seeing the skin around his eyes cleaned and bright, no smudges of black. He looked softer like this you thought.

"I um, I don't um… ah ha I must have fallen asleep in the chair right? Must have just been so tired! You didn't have to move me, but thanks, it wouldn't have been good for me to sleep there right? Ha ha."

God you were adorable when you tried to lie. Heart was far too prominent on your sleeve for it to ever work. You were clearly flustered way more from trying to lie than from waking up in his bed and such a fondness settled in him knowing that you trusted him so easily. You trusted that he had carried you here to help, that he would never have done anything to hurt you. 

"Gaz would have carried you to your bed, but come to think of it there doesn't seem like any sort of bedroom in your shop."

Was he teasing to watch you scramble to try and explain yourself? Maybe a little, sue him.

"Oh right! It's in… the basement, it's in the basement."

You had a nanosecond of being relieved you had thought up a lie so quickly before being horrified at what a bad lie it was. What if they wanted to go into the non-existent basement now? But you had gotten away with it for now and you relaxed as Simon just nodded with an "Ah, of course, the basement". 

Maybe you were good at this whole lying thing!

When it was time to get up and get a ride back home to the shop Simon got the little tub of eye black to smear on. You took it from him and started dabbing it on with your fingers for him since he had let you sleep in his bed. 

"It's like finger painting" you grinned, sitting back to admire your work.

He took your hand in his before you could fully withdraw it, pressing a kiss to your knuckles that had the tips of your ears on fire. You gave him a wide eyed stare in question.

"Services/goods of equivalent value remember? This one was worth at least a few days of moving furniture."

You smiled shyly, thinking he meant applying the eye black for him. Simon let you think that, knowing himself that the payment he was taking was being able to press his lips to your skin.

-

You felt your lie was under attack when, after being driven back to your shop by Price with Soap in tow, they started talking about your basement as they helped you with all the dishes from the night before.

"Didn't you help with a lot of the building Soap? Going to have to give you extra observation training, missing a whole basement."

"Och Captain dinnae, ye know that training is the worst! I'll do better next time, ye'r spot on that it's unacceptable for me to miss something like that."

Oh the way you went dead silent while you scrubbed at a plate, clearly being eaten alive by guilt. It was cute up until you genuinely seemed in distress, and although it was fun to tease Johnny was thankful when Price laid off.

"Ah I'm only taking the piss Sergeant, easy thing to miss in an old place like this."

Some of the tension bled from your shoulders and oh if Soap didn't suddenly remember the little shy kiss you pressed to his cheek the night before. Such a sweet thing, genuinely getting upset at the idea he might have to do training because of a lie you told to protect yourself. As if him and Gaz didn't lie all the time to try and get one another in trouble just for the hell of it.

"Opening is in an hour aye? Think we could get a wee out of hours tea?" Soap asked.

You dried off your hands, smiling brightly now. Making tea always made you forget all your worries and you were wildly delighted that confessed coffee person Soap was the one asking. You went straight to work, grabbing and typing off your apron and throwing your hair up. 

Price and Soap shared a conspiring look as they watched you work. They had gotten good at speaking without words. Right now their look was saying "isn't she just the loveliest thing you ever saw? I think I might scream if she does one more cute thing."

With the tea steeping you sighed in contentment, jumping a little when Price's hand found the small of your back. You hadn't even realised he was so close, for such a big man he was so light on his feet! He tapped a finger to his cheek.

"Think helping wash one load of dishes works as equivalent value."

You popped onto your tip toes and planted a soft peck to his cheek and as Soap bounded forward for the same Price shoved him away with a grin.

"Got payment in advance last night if I recall Soap, can't have our favourite girl overpaying."

-

Price and Soap left just as you officially opened for the day, but to your soft delight already Horangi and Farah were waiting outside for the sign to be flipped. They were bundled up, must have walked over. Now that you knew the distance from here to the base it made you swell with pride to know they had made the trip on foot. 

"Two of ye are here awful early naw?"

"Is there a problem with that MacTavish?" Horangi asked with a smirk, suspecting that the problem was Soap was about to leave you alone with him and Farah.

He had thought it would only be him, everyone else using their morning to work out and get fed. Obviously Farah had the same idea though, both of them feeling a sense of challenge from the other. He was sure you would like learning to make his Korean sweets over her Urzik ones. 

"Course naw, always happy tae see paying customers for my girl here" he responded, clearly proud of himself for managing to find a subtle way to tell Horangi and Farah to back off because you were his.

Farah raised an eyebrow at Price when he smirked at Soap's little claim and his lip twitched slightly. The exchange was barely noticeable and yet the unspoken conversation had went something like this:

"Really John? She's a little young for you is she not?"

"Really Farah, what would Alex say?"

"Me and Alex have always been very good at sharing, ask Gaz."

"Don't remember you being this much of a brat Karim."

Farah thought it was a shame you had been subject to all these boorish men for so long. Soft, sweet thing like you deserved some soft and sweet companionship. She had hoped that she could get to know you while teaching you how to make the halva she had fed you bites of last night any time you had paused in your hectic running about to pour her tea.

You had been very complimentary of the simple sweet, wanting to know all about the cultural history of it. Farah was no stranger to the uncomfortable looks she got when she would pour her heart out about her passion for her home country. She had half expected you to nod politely and excuse yourself. Only you hadn't, you had been genuinely and unabashedly happy at how passionate she was about her home, eyes sparkling with interest as you made her promise that she'd visit again and tell you more.

Of course Hong-jin would be equally as fond of you, she had spied how he had made you try a bite of bukkumi and how he had cried laughing when it was chewier than you expected and you had bitten your tongue. That giant beside him had acted as if you were mortally wounded until you had calmed him down and Farah was observant if nothing else, she had seen how your easy way with the larger man had Hong-jin simmering with fondness. 

Price and Soap realised they couldn't very well stay without it being obvious they were only doing so to stop Farah and Horangi from being left to work their charms on you, so with a grumble they departed.

You were honestly a little nervous about your first real customers after opening day, but you thought you did a great job of hiding it and welcoming them inside.

Farah and Horangi could both tell you were nervous, it was glaringly obvious, so an unspoken pact was made that they would only compete with each other in ways that you wouldn't notice so wouldn't make you anxious.

An hour later and you were so delighted that they had been kind enough and patient enough to teach you how to make the sweets they had bought the night before, oblivious to the amount of sabotage and subterfuge in the silent war between your two customers. 

Still they did eventually have to admit defeat, they were due in meetings and couldn't stay forever. You squeaked and shook your head rapidly when they tried to pay for their drinks.

"Oh no please, you were both so wonderful to have shared your recipes with me! Think of this as payment for that."

"I already said I would teach you did I not? Of course I have to pay properly for the tea you made me."

“It would be very rude not to, I can pay for both of our teas.”

“No no, I can pay for both. After all you are technically a guest with the 141 aren't you?”

“As are you.”

“Oh I would say more a long distance member. Actually since this is so near the 141 base and you've been so good to the team, I'd say that makes you basically an honorary member!”

“Oh! That's such an honour for you to say Farah, it's more that the team has been good to me though” you explained in a rush, a pretty flush of colour dusting your cheeks.

“Ah but you also have adopted the little cat with us, so it makes you more a member of Kortac than anything else.”

“I think Herzogin adopted me, she just came in one day and decided to make herself at home and I couldn't say no” you said, now feeling so flustered there must be steam coming out of your ears.

There was something so touching about what they were saying even if it was light hearted and meant more as a joke you thought. Even the thought of somehow being a part of their lives, some little silly civilian branch of their teams, made your hummingbird heart flutter.

It was also very sweet how they both wanted to cover each others bill even though you really could not let them go unrewarded for teaching you their recipes. They must be quite close these two teams. Definitely not two people who had only properly met last night and were now locked in a bitter rivalry over you or anything.

“But regardless I need to repay you somehow for the lessons! Don't make me start pulling out a contract again” you laughed.

When they asked you explained about your hastily written contract with Soap, how it had kept expanding after that. You even showed them the copy as messy as it was.

“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so. 

*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**

**and any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 

***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141

****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed”

It didn't feel much like a contract anymore what with Simon's messy scrawl and the massive pen stroke from when Soap had shoved Rudy as he was trying to add his addendum. But it always made you smile to look at.

You thought your heart might burst when they both very reverently take turns adding their own addendums on.

“I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish* for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value**** as soon as I have the means to do so.******

*& Mr Rudolpho Parra**

**along with any members of the Los Vaqueros team*** 

***who are to be superceded in priority by any members of TF141*****

****as defined in value by the party being reimbursed

*****including Farah Karim and Alex Keller who shall be deemed members TF141 for the purposes of this contract.******

*****Any works or services carried out by members of Kortac PMC (inclusive of Herzogin) are to be subject to the same terms of payment as above.”

After that they both paid in full for all the tea meaning you were left blustering about the double payment. And when before they left they pressed a kiss to your cheek, sandwiching you between them for a moment, you were sure you have melted right into the floor.

“That's your debt settled for the recipe” Farah teased as her and Horangi left.

–

You spent the day warmed by the smattering of visitors. Some drove out, some made the trip on foot, Gaz stopped by in the middle of his run and the sight of him shirtless and sweaty made you scald yourself when you accidentally overpoured and splashed hot tea over your hand.

“Ouch luv, c'mere and let me see” he said, immediately taking your hand delicately in both of his strong ones to do a quick inspection and then leading you over to the sink to run it under cold water.

“It's not that bad” you hissed as the water hit, it was freezing and you were really just trying to get out of having to hold it there for 10 minutes.

“Hush, don't know how deep it's went so need to make sure it cools down properly.”

You didn't feel like you were cooling down with his naked torso right there beside you, one hand still holding yours and the other resting absentmindedly on your waist. All of these customers of yours really would be the death of you.

You huffed a little and stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he was right but not liking it one bit. He laughed at you and gave you a light little headbutt into your hair, the easy affection making you smile despite yourself. You smiling made him smile and it was as always like looking at the sun when this man smiled. So much so you did not even hear the door go until you were crowded by another body, the new arrival slotting against your other side in a mirror of Gaz and sighing.

“What happened here then princess?” 

Gaz narrowed his eyes at Alex albeit playfully at the pet name, feeling his pinky brush again his hand now also settling in on you.

“Ah just clumsy! Not a very good omen to be spilling tea on the second day huh?”

“You know Ghost and Soap once got so drunk they passed out on the sofa and we found them all tangled up the next morning, said they must have moved in their sleep.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva at that, blinking up at Alex who was only grinning back at you.

“There now, we've both spilled tea, so I can take all the bad omens off of you.”

Goddamnit, Kyle always forgot how stupidly handsome and charming Keller was. Even being right in your space shirtless, having been meticulous in his work out this morning to ensure his body would look just right to get you flustered, you weren't even looking at him anymore. Too busy giving a soft smile to the American playboy. Well if you can't beat them…

You jumped when you felt Kyle's breath right at your ear. He had leaned over a little to join the conversation but it meant he was even closer than before and it was suddenly very, very warm. 

“Just to make sure though, Keller here will deny it ever happened but he once kissed a man right in front of his girlfriend! Right scandalous if you ask me. How's that for tea?”

“i-in front of your girlfriend?!” you asked, somewhat in shock that this man who had been nothing but sweet to you was a cheater. 

“As I recall, my girlfriend was the one that put in the request” he laughed, seeing your look of suspicion and softening. “I promise she was happy about it princess, we've always been open to sharing.”

Him and Gaz shared a look then, both obviously noticing that you were probably about to faint from the no doubt tame (scandalous in your head) images the idea of sharing was conjuring. While it was very endearing the way you reacted, the thump thump thumping of your heart almost perceptible, they couldn't find it within themselves to tease you more. Sweet little thing like you deserved better.

“Come on luv, let's get it dried off and wrapped up.”

Kyle lifted your hand away from the cold water and you realised they had completely distracted you from the discomfort. You wondered if it had been on purpose as he took you over to one of the stools and made you sit while Alex fished out the first aid box.

“Oh, how did you know where that was?”

“Military princess, reckon about everyone scoped out the exits, fire extinguisher and first aid kit last night. Laswell had me order some safety signs for express delivery, should arrive today actually.”

“Oh I didn't even think! How much did it cost? I’ll pay you for them straight away.”

Kyle sighed as he wrapped your hand, knowing exactly what was about to happen and not able to think of one reason to stop it. Besides, it's not like he didn't think you and Alex looked cute together and he didn't even bother to hide his grin of disbelief at how outrageous Keller was when he caressed your face.

“Farah said we could get a kiss in payment as long as it was an equivalent value. Would a kiss be OK princess?”

You didn't really remember nodding even though you had, but you were pretty sure you'd remember Alex Keller pressing a heart achingly soft kiss to your lips as long as you lived. You felt like your brain was flowing with syrup when he laughed lightly and fondly after kissing you, like he was happy he got to do it. 

“Medical fees as well luv, yeah?”

And then you were nodding and Kyle Garrick was kissing you while Alex still had one hand on your cheek and everything was a little too hot and overwhelming. 

Thankfully both men were merciful and didn't mention it when you blinked back into consciousness from fainting onto the counter. If Gaz had had to scream into Alex's shoulder because of how adorable he found it, well they didn't mention that either.

–

You were in trouble now. Kate Laswell was giving you a look that you were sure meant she could read your mind. 

“You're not in trouble, but you need to tell me the truth. Why were you staying at the base last night?”

Of course Laswell knew, she knew everything about everyone. You were the kind of soft she knew it was easy for hard soldiers to love, but if she thought for a second that one of the 141 had taken you to bed last night she was inclined to use them for shooting practice. You had been dead on your feet after opening day, not in any fit state for clandestine meetings.

Plus she felt protective over you, maybe a little possessive. You reminded her fiercely of her wife and she had already called her last night to tell her about you, suggesting they make the time to visit together when work was less hectic for her.

“Oh I-” you paused, desperately hoping you were not going to get anyone into trouble but itching to tell this woman the truth, “they found me asleep in one of the chairs so instead of waking me they let me use one of the beds. It was my fault for falling asleep where I did! They were just being kind.”

“Why didn’t the move you to your own bed?” Kate asked with a long suffering sigh. It would be just like the 141 to jump to the extreme option.

“It's um, they didn't know where it was.”

Kate had scoped out the place last night without crossing a line into snooping, but she had thought the door next to the stove would be a bedroom. The boys would have known that though, Price said Riley and MacTavish had helped a lot with construction and moving furniture. So either she was really going to have to leather them for taking you back to base when your bed was right there, or the room was a storage space.

“And where is that?”

“Hm?”

“Where do you sleep?”

“Oh hang on, I'll get you another cup!”

Kate watched you stumble away with the poor excuse of getting the pot to pour another cup of tea for her. Her teacup was still half full. And she was indeed going to have to skin the 141 alive. How did it take them so long to figure out that you didn’t have a proper place to sleep? The quiet fury she felt at thinking how long you had been curling up on one of the chairs surprised her for only a moment before she let it settle in. Kate Laswell had always been very good at quickly identifying who she considered her people and her knack of it hadn’t let her down yet. 

“How long have you been sleeping here?”

You froze as you were reaching for the teapot. 

“I-i the basement? Since I got the place.”

Kate was well aware there was not a basement, not unless there was a magical hidden hatch to it. Even if she hadn’t been 99% certain, the fact that you were the worst liar she had ever encountered and the look of alarm she saw on Alejandro’s face as he slid through the door gave her assurance she was right. The question at this point was how to gentle you into telling her what was going on and why you didn’t have somewhere to sleep. She wished her wife were here, between the two of them she was more the people person. 

“Try again cariño, there is no basement in this building.”

Your ruse was rapidly falling apart with Alejandro now here as well. You had been so sure you had gotten away with it as well, and you were just stuck to the spot gaping trying to get your brain to come up with some sort of excuse. 

“Well um, I know I said basement but I- the thing is maybe it’s just a plan to have a basement. Right. That’s what I meant, that I’m going to put in a basement and have a bed there. Yeah. And that means that right now I don’t have one. A basement I mean, or uh, yeah a bed. But it’s totally fine, that chair by the fire is super comfortable and it’s not that bad for my back and Herzogin likes being able to curl in my lap anyway and actually I really like it because the blanket would be a little too small if I was all stretched out anyway and-”

Alejandro had known you long enough to see when your brain was absolutely catching fire. It was one of the things he loved because he knew he was always able to calm you down and it made him feel overwhelmingly content whenever he did. Right now though he at least wished your brain was catching fire over something small like offering him a new type of tea or short circuiting when Rudy had poured water over himself to cool down in the summer (Ale had nearly throttled him, little shit had known what he was doing) and not over something that made him want to smuggle you home to Mexico and make sure you never wanted for anything ever again. 

He could put aside his own feelings right now though, walking over and enveloping you in a warm hug, squeezing just the right amount to make your words trail off and your brain slow down now that it felt safe and comfortable. You clung to him almost instantly, burying your head in his chest and fighting tears. You were so embarrassed to be caught, it made you feel like you couldn’t look after yourself at all.

It wasn’t that you had meant for it to all work out this way, but you were chasing a dream and you sort of came second to that. Last night you had finally made it and it had been better than you ever dared hope, it had been beyond perfect. You hadn’t even thought to include your own comfort in that dream of yours, and now when you really thought about how you had been living it all caught up and made you feel awful and exhausted. 

“There come on now, it’s ok” Alejandro said softly, leaning a cheek against your hair and sharing a look with Kate, “we’re going to make sure you’re looked after ok? Just until we can sort something a little more permanent out for you.”

“I couldn’t, I don’t… I just need a little time to save up and I can get stuff” you sniffled, doing your best to keep it together.

You were fully out of money, last night had made a small fortune but that needed to go towards overdue bills and restocking. It was enough that you would be in the clear at least, and then you could actually start saving if you managed to make any profit. You wanted to say you could survive a few more cold nights, but now that it had finally hit you, that you had spent a night in a warm, cosy bed, you didn’t know that you could. 

Alejandro just hushed soothingly at you, petting your hair and letting you cry it out. He knew for a fact Kate was taking advantage of knowing he would not do anything right now that was not solely with the purpose of your comfort in mind, he could see her typing away on her phone and glancing at him as if to say “I’m going to make sure she’s looked after, but it’s nice that you can distract her while I do that I suppose.”

Would he say he was happy when Nikolai showed up to whisk you off to a B&B for the night? Mixed feelings really. He was happy that you would spend the night safe and warm nearby. He was furious it wasn’t going to be with him. And then that vanished when he melted fully to a puddle as you darted quickly back after locking up and saying goodbye to them to nervously press a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s in the contract that I should repay you for things. I hope this works to repay you for being so kind to me.”

If Kate’s snort of amusement at his scream into his hands after you had left was anything to go by, it worked far too well.

–

“We only have a double room left, will that be ok sir?”

Nikolai had taken one look at you all cried out and sniffling outside that tea shop and decided there and then that he was going to feed you the largest meal of your life and then tuck you into a nice, warm bed and let you sleep for as long as you wanted. If he had known when he got the message from Price about the tea shop opening that you were the little thing behind the Captain and Gaz calling in all their favours he would have told the general he was flying to a critical mission to walk so he could attend. 

As it was he had been on his way to visit and apologise for not making it when he had gotten the message from Kate that she was giving him a new assignment. He didn’t know the full background, he did know that the 141 was in big trouble whatever had happened. Not his problem, he was focused on you. 

He had teased that he was going to fly you out of there at first and you had about passed away on the spot before he scrambled to tell you he was joking. The B&B wasn’t too far, it was in the nearest little village an hours walk from the teashop in the opposite direction of the base. You told him you were ok to walk and he had scooped you onto his back anyway, let you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder as you chatted away about anything and everything.

Your attempts at learning some Russian was adorable, trying to wrap your tongue around the words he would give you before even asking what they meant (he had gotten you to say ‘I am very cute’ perfectly and then told you it meant ‘thank you’, so delighted when you said it frequently that it overrode the guilt at being so duplicitous about it. He’d tell you one day. Maybe).  

“Of course, double is perfect.”

Not that you would protest given that you were fast asleep on his back now, the weight of your head on his shoulder comforting. You deserved the rest he imagined, he had gotten pictures from Price of the opening. It wasn’t easy to have so many big personalities in one place, much less have them all vying for your attention. He took great glee knowing that every single one would be chewing glass when they found out he had you all to himself right now.

You woke up when you were put down onto the bed, blearily blinking as you tried to work out your new surroundings. It was a cosy little room, the bed you were on was like a marshmallow with the perfect firm to squishy ratio and Nikolai who you had come to like very much in the last hour was laying out a frankly disgusting amount of room service onto the little table, so much of it that you could see some had already needed to be put on the vanity.

It was wonderful to exist in a sleepy, happy haze as you ate your weight in comforting pub food, soaked in the bath he had run for you and then fell into bed. Only there was only one bed. And he was already settling himself in the armchair and putting on reading glasses that made him look adorable to start one of the little romcoms from the tiny library in the foyer. In truth Nikolai was more inclined to share, but he knew that even the act of asking you would put pressure on you. He knew a people pleaser when he saw one. 

“...the bed is big enough for you as well. Would it be ok if we shared?”

Well he hadn’t expected you to be the one asking him and it took him by surprise enough that he put down his book and just blinked at you for a moment, brain short circuiting and answering in Russian instead with a heartfelt speech about how he did not want you to feel you had to offer and how he would love to hold you if you’d let him because you seemed like you should always be held and if he got to be the one to do that for only one night he would be so grateful for the trust you had given him.

You had no clue what this handsome man was saying, but it sounded nice. You hoped you hadn’t overstepped.

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand. I… have a bit of a contract with the 141. It’s for services and goods of equivalent value when they help me out. And you’ve helped me out a lot tonight so I know sharing the bed isn’t exactly, well I mean it’s really your bed, so I should be the one in the chair really, so it’s not me repaying you at all to share it” you rambled, very sleepy from the abundance of food and the warm bath.

“Oh lapposhychka, it is no wonder I got such warm messages from the Captain” Nikolai sighed, seeing how a light blush dusted across your nose when you got yourself worked up about a problem. “I do not want you to make yourself uncomfortable because you think to repay me with it.”

You brought the blankets right up to the bridge of your nose to hide your little shy smile, feeling somehow like you could tell him the truth that you could never say out loud to anyone else.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I was the one who wrote it down to be vague just incase… people wanted to be creative with interpretation.”

Nikolai took a moment to understand and then laughed so loudly that you could hear the neighbours laughing at his boisterous laugh. He was happy to slide into bed beside you then and you were using his chest as a pillow and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. When you tried to thank him in Russian he only laughed lightly and hugged you as you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

–

“Open bonnie.”

You automatically opened your mouth to let Soap feed you another bite of pastry, eyes not leaving the accounts you were pouring over. Johnny wasn’t complaining at how concentrated you were, not when it meant you had let yourself be hand fed by him after being manoeuvred into Simon’s lap. It was almost enough to make up for his plans being ruined to offer you his bedroom after Kate and Alejandro (and then very swiftly via Rudy’s big mouth everyone) had found out about your sleeping arrangements. 

You had been back to open the next morning and were going over what it would cost to stay in the B&B and build an extension versus the cost of just renting or getting a mortgage on a place in the village. Him and Simon had shared several looks to the tune of “we are going to need to get it into her pretty head somehow that we can pay for everything and actually wouldn’t it be easier for her to always have access to everything she needed if she married one of us?” and then getting into an argument about who that should be. 

It was idyllic and wonderful and then of course Simon had to be Simon and have an admirer who was jealousy pawing at the beautiful thing in his lap.

“Oh! Ah Herzogin, I’m so sorry, I’ve taken your space haven’t I?” you said with a little scritch behind her ears as you stood and stretched. 

Immediately the cat was up in Simon’s lap and purring aggressively, making biscuits into his thigh. The look between him and Johnny then was more to the tune of:

“Jesus Si dae ye have tae be such a bloody cat magnet?”

“Well what do you want me to do Johnny? Shove König’s cat onto the floor?”

“Wait… wait we need tae steal König’s cat.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well if we want tae have her pick us…”

The unspoken conversation did not make it much further because you were asking if they wanted a drink. Johnny ordered an Irish coffee, Simon ordered an earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey. 

“Oh, you mean a L-” you started, Simon looking at you like he may commit homicide if you said the words ‘London Fog’ to refer to his drink order. 

“Llllllarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey,” you finally said, desperately improvising. 

“A large, yes sweetheart” he said with a grin that nearly knocked you unconscious anytime you saw it on his unmasked face. “Although I’ll take payment for looking after the cat just now.”

While one hand was scritching at said cat he used the other to grab your waist and pull you closer, tilting his head up and smirking. Honestly he had mostly expected you to blush brightly and if he was very lucky kiss his cheek, so when you leaned down and pressed your lips to his beautifully gently the scariest solider the SAS had ever seen was reduced to blushing brightly himself.

Soap was only too eager to remind you of his services of feeding you bites of food so you wouldn’t simply waste away while you were working and your bravery only stretched so far to give him a quick peck before fleeing to the kitchen absolutely ablaze to make the coffee and London Fogarge earl grey tea with steamed milk, vanilla and a touch of honey.

–

It had been less of a fight than you thought for you to stay in the shop. Price had insisted they get you an air mattress and a proper duvet at least, but they had all been respectful of your wishes even if not happy about it when you had said you really would be ok. They were already doing so much now that you had decided to build an extension instead of renting or buying somewhere else (you loved this place so much, you didn’t want to be so far away). Already they were grumbling about contractors and how they’d do a bad job so you may as well let them do it and honestly? A little part of you felt like this was as much their baby as it was yours, so you were warmed that they wanted to help.

And you were also warmed by how they had listened. They hadn’t overruled you like you were worried they might, they had just made sure that you were safe and as comfortable as possible. Mind you their idea of safe was overkill (the locks on the door they had installed in record time were something out of a sci-fi movie and more often than not the past few weeks you had not been alone on that air mattress in the shop), but you still felt so listened to and respected in your own right.

This was the first evening in the last 5 you had spent just you and Herzogin. Well just you since she had slinked out to go cause mischief somewhere no doubt. You were honestly a little relieved when there was a knock at the door, feeling a little strange being alone now as you got up, jumped through hoops to unlock all the security protocols and opened the door.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You did not know the American on your doorstep in the torn skull balaclava, but you could see he had been beaten badly. 

“Who did this to you?” was spilling out of you as you reached out your arms to him to try to take some of his weight since he was slumped against the doorway.

“If I told you that I’d have to kill you sweetheart” he said, somehow managing to sound condescending even though he was hissing the words through gritted teeth.

It was probably a strange thing to think, but he reminded you of Simon. Something about the way he held himself, the way he handled this situation. The pet name. Maybe it was some transferred fondness that had you taking as much of his weight as you could handle and stumbling inside with him, dropping him on the sofa (a new addition thanks to Nik) and rushing over to get the first aid box that thankfully had been upgraded to a full military grade mini medic bay by Kate and Farah. 

“I mean you could try, but you’re not looking so hot” you said, bringing the kit over and kneeling by the sofa to try and figure out the worst of the damage.

“Ouch sweetheart, never had anyone tell me I don’t look hot on a first date.”

Oh this man was ridiculous, but at least if he was flirting he was probably not dying. 

“What can I say, high standards.”

You felt his eyes scrutinising you as you checked him over. You had trained in first aid before you had even bought this place, knowing that it would be legally required but also that morally you could not have people in your premises without knowing you could look after them. Not that your customers generally needed looking after. Even the ancient book club that had started coming in from the village on Sunday afternoons were tough as old nails.

“You’ve not called anyone.”

“Well I’m assuming you don’t want an ambulance involved, and I wanted to at least be able to say how bad you were before calling someone else.”

“Who are you gonna call?”

“Ghostbusters.”

He laughed and you hissed at him to stop when it clearly put him in more pain to do so. Poor Nik had been so proud when he had arrived with this sofa, had really been gloating to everyone about how you had reacted by launching yourself at him in a hug, and the chances of the blood stains ever coming out were very slim. 

“And if I asked you not to?”

You looked at his eyes to find them staring back at you, almost in challenge. This guy sure was a piece of work, but you really wanted him to be ok. As you tried to pack the stab wound (you thought at least) with gauze, you mused that maybe this time somebody might owe you and not the other way around. 

“Then I’d wait until you passed out and then call him when you couldn’t say no if I asked.”

“Good girl.”

Oh. Oh. That was not something you were going to be exploring while your hands were covered in blood. You just levelled him with a glare that very much screamed ‘behave yourself’ and grabbed your phone to call Simon. He answered on the second ring.

–

You know when you really sat down to reflect, your life had gotten so strange. Fake dating König because some wildly charming man called Graves had called you “little darlin’” and that was apparently a security threat, having to smack Soap with one of those squeaky toy hammers any time he scratched at his stitches after coming back fully banged up from a mission, having to referee a tricycle race between Ale and Valeria (your first time meeting her had been wild in and of itself), mediating the all out war between the book club made up of 80+ year olds and the 141. 

One thing you could say for sure though when Price took your blind fold off to reveal the brand new extension finished with the absolute cosiest living space you could ever have wanted is that you were incredibly happy. It was a strange family that you found yourself in, but with that now almost illegible from all the additions contract proudly on the wall of your teashop, you found that it suited you just fine.