#installing it is the easy part taking it out is the hard part

[713-4th-ward-g]

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[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[wifeyoozi]

mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill

w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.

it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.

you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.

"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"

"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.

you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.

wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.

meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.

"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."

wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."

"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.

"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.

"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.

you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.

"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"

mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"

"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"

"i-i never said that!"

"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.

"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone

"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.

"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.

you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.

fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.

"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.

you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.

it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."

you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.

"mingyu, take off her clothes."

mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.

"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.

wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"

you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.

wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.

wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."

mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.

"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --

oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.

wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.

you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.

"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.

wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.

it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.

wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.

"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."

you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.

"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.

the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."

he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.

wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"

wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.

you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.

it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.

unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.

"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.

"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."

mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."

mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.

you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.

you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.

the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.

"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."

mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.

you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.

you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.

mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.

you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.

"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"

"it could be, if you like."

"i think i'd like it, it be great."

"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.

"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.

[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

[birdiewriteslit]

“secret keeping”

trevor zegras x f!hughes!reader

masterlist

part 2 to “caught”

summary: you and trevor got off easy after jack caught you together. it wasn’t hard to keep things on the down low for your other two brothers, but when summer rolls around and you’re all in the same house, it becomes more challenging.

THIS TOOK ME FOREVER OMG.

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, teeny bit of angst, fluff, big brother quinn

It had been nine months since you and Trevor got together. For three of those months, Jack has known about your relationship.

You elected him as secret keeper, mainly because he was the only candidate, and if you gave it a fancy name, he would be more inclined to shut his mouth.

It worked pretty well. With hockey to keep Jack occupied, he didn’t have much of an issue with keeping the secret to himself.

When the season was over, however, it got a little tougher for him to keep quiet. He was constantly calling you up to ask if he could tell Luke, which you always denied. You were glad Quinn was in Vancouver for the time being, and not in close vicinity to Jack, because you knew that if he was, Jack would cave almost immediately.

So, this was a problem, as you would all be in very close proximity to each other for the summer.

You got to the house later than everyone else, so late, in fact, that it was dark out and the boys had a fire going out back.

You set your things down in your room before throwing on a hoodie and heading outside. They sat around the fire, talking amongst themselves. “Hey, boys,” you said, announcing your presence.

Trevor, who hadn’t seen you in a few weeks, grinned widely at your appearance and stood from his chair. He ignored the sounds of his friends greeting you as he made his was towards you.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of you. You embraced him, semi-awkwardly as you watched Jack’s jaw basically drop from over Trevor’s shoulder.

You were the one to pull away, giving him a friendly punch on the arm. You gave him a warning look that said, ‘Remember where we are.’

Jack stood up next, hugging you and whispering in your ear, “That was one steamy hug.” He giggled as he pulled away, allowing Luke and Quinn to hug you next.

You greeted the other guys more casually with just a wave and sat down in the chair across from Trevor between Luke and Quinn.

“So, Y/n, any new installments in your life?” Jack asked, hiding his mischievous smile by taking a sip of his beer.

“What?” you said.

“Anything interesting going on?”

“Uh, work. And school,” you said, subtly glaring at him.

“No new men?” he asked innocently.

“Why are you so interested, freak?” you deflected.

Jack shrugged, a stupid grin on his face. “Just wondering.”

Quinn gave you and Jack an odd look before moving the conversation along. You were thankful to move on, and Trevor, who was making a show of counting stars, was surely thankful too.

Later that night, Trevor snuck out of his room and made his way down the hall to yours. When you let him in, his lips were on yours as soon as the door was closed.

His mouth moved against yours hungrily, his arms making their way around your waist as he guided you backward onto the bed.

The mattress hit your legs and made you sit. Trevor was bending down to kiss you, his hands moving to hold your face.

You held onto his forearms, forcing yourself to pull away and catch your breath. He leaned his forehead against yours as he caught his.

“I missed you, so much,” Trevor said. His hands still rested on your face, which was burning at this point.

“I know, I missed you too.” You guided his hands away from your face, holding them in your lap. He rose to his full height, looking down at you with a soft smile. “But, Trev, you gotta tone it down in front of the guys.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “It was just a hug, babe.”

“Uh, to quote Jack it was ‘one steamy hug,’” you said.

“‘M sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Trevor moved one hand out of yours and pushed some of your hair away from your face. “I just missed you. I forgot everyone else was there for a second.”

“It’s okay. I know you don’t like keeping this between us,” you said, feeling a little guilty.

Trevor shook his head. “No, baby. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll tell everyone else. I know you like things private.”

“My brothers are so fucking nosy. I have to.” You looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his fingers.

He laughed. “They are so fucking nosy. Of course, I want to let everyone know you’re mine. I want to be able to look in the stands and see you wearing my jersey. I want to be able to have my arm around you when we’re with your family. I want to be able to post you and to be seen with you. I want all of that, but I get that you’re not ready for it yet. In the meantime, I’m fine with this.”

He leaned down again to kiss you again, bringing his hand back up to your face as you held his other one. You leaned into his touch, pulling back after a moment.

You looked up into his blue eyes. He looked sleepy, the hood of his sweatshirt was up and, from under it, his hair was strewn across his forehead.

“Just give me a few more weeks to think about it, then we can talk, yeah?”

He grinned. “Sounds good, baby.”

He then practically tackled you onto the bed, pulling you on top of him. You tried to contain your giggles, not wanting anyone to wake up.

You rested your head on his chest, your arms wrapped around each other. He grabbed your blanket and placed it on top of you. You fell asleep like that.

The next morning, you woke up beside Trevor, his arm resting over your stomach as he laid on his and drooled into the pillow. You watched him sleep for a minute, his back rising and falling with each breath he took.

You turned over and picked up your phone, seeing that it was nine in the morning. Usually the boys slept in, but this was the first day at the lake, and they would want to get a head start on the day.

You heard voices from down the hall and begrudgingly got out of bed, gently lifting Trevor’s arm off of you.

You left him alone in the room, letting him get some more sleep. Walking into the kitchen, you greeted Jack, who sat at the island, sipping his coffee.

Cole was at the counter, pouring himself a cup. He saw you walk in and he grabbed you a mug and poured some for you too.

“Thanks, king.” You leaned against the counter as you drank it. Cole nodded before going to sit beside Jack.

Trevor walked in a few minutes later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He passed by you to the coffee maker, his hand grazing against your stomach. You knew he did it on purpose, based on the way he smirked at you over his mug.

“Hey, man, I woke up this morning and you weren’t in the room. Where’d you go?” Cole asked.

Jack choked on his coffee and coughed violently, pounding his fist on his chest until he recovered.

Cole gave him a look before glancing back at Trevor. You and Trevor made eye contact, and he seemed to connect the dots.

“You!” He pointed at Trevor. “You sister fucker!”

“Jesus, Cole, what’s wrong with you?” you said, your face heating up. You were praying nobody else heard that.

“He’s a traitor,” Cole said, looking at Jack. “This is treason. She’s off limits.”

“Do you idiots actually talk about this?” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Uh, yeah, the first time I met you, I was actually threatened by Jack,” Coke explained. “Which brings me to my next point, did you know about this? How are you okay with this?”

Jack shrugged. “I would’ve liked if he asked for my blessing first, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about it now.”

“For the record,” Trevor cut in. “She came onto me first.”

You smacked him on the arm. “Shut up. We’re not talking about this anymore. Cole, keep your lips zipped. Nobody else can know.”

Cole protested weakly as you left the room. “But there’s so much that I don’t know! You can’t just leave it like that.”

You did leave it like that. You walked back into your room, changing into a different outfit and getting ready for the day, trying to forget about the whole thing.

As you were brushing your teeth, your phone started ringing. You spit out your toothpaste, accepted the call, and put it on speaker, not bothering to look at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Y/n!” A high voice came from the other side of the phone.

“Oh, hi, mom.” You walked out of the bathroom into the room, seeing Trevor laying on the bed on his phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Trevor?”

Your eyes blew wide and you almost threw the phone across the room. Trevor’s head snapped up from the bed.

You checked to make sure she didn’t switch it to FaceTime and saw him on the bed, and sure enough she didn’t. “Who said that?” you laughed nervously.

“Your brother! Jack left me a voicemail last night. He said he just had to tell somebody. How long have you been keeping this from us?”

“Uh, it’s coming up on 10 months,” you said as nonchalantly as possible. Of course Jack told your mom. You were going to kill him.

“Ten months?” She shouted. “If I could ground you, I would. You could’ve brought him to Christmas! Why didn’t you tell anyone? We all love him.”

You sighed loudly. “Quinn and Luke don’t know. Don’t tell them. I kept it a secret because I wanted some privacy. They have literally never been normal about me dating, and they’d be even worse if they knew about Trevor.”

She sighed. “It’s only because they love you. I respect your privacy, but you should’ve told me about this sooner.”

You bit the inside of your lip, looking guiltily at Trevor. “I know. I’m sorry. It got away from me.”

“That’s alright, honey. Call me back later and tell me everything. I want all the details,” she said excitedly before hanging up.

You groaned, flinging yourself onto the bed next to Trevor. “This could not get any worse. She definitely told my dad. He’s not weird like my brothers but he’s gonna embarrass me next time he sees you.”

“I would never find anything about you embarrassing.” Trevor said, setting his phone down and reaching out to play with the strings of your bikini. “It’s not the end of the world. We were talking about telling people last night.”

“I know, but I wanted a few more weeks of just us.”

“And Jack,” he added.

“Yeah, and Jack,” you said distastefully.

Throughout the next week, you had to resist the urge to beat the crap out of your brother. You tried drowning him in the lake the day that your mom called you, but he was a damn good swimmer, and he threatened to yell out the secret to everyone on the boat.

Jack never missed a chance to make fun of you or borderline expose you to everyone. He and Cole had a blast with blackmailing you. At least your brother had one person he could talk to about it. As long as it kept everyone else in the dark, you could do with the terrorization.

Cole didn’t tell anyone Trevor slept in your room every night, but he sure did tease you about it. It was getting annoying, really, and you were starting to care less and less about where you were seen and what you were seen doing.

With the few people who knew already, and your mother practically planning your wedding, you were seriously considering letting it all slip one day.

You were probably going to tell everyone soon enough. You knew Trevor was tired of it. He was only doing it for you.

The two of you managed kept up the charade in front of the boys, although he had a tendency to get a little handsy at times. It was very hard for him to keep his hands off of you when you couldn’t have sex often due to the chance of someone overhearing.

You were on the couch with him one day, the others out on a boat ride. You two stayed behind to watch the season finale of a show you both liked.

Well, you were watching it. Now, you were making out. You were on top of Trevor, straddling him and grabbing onto the back of the couch for balance.

He was holding onto your hips, his hand occasionally roaming to squeeze your ass. His lips were hot and rough on yours. He already took your shirt off, the heat being too much for you.

You hands slipped under the fabric of his shirt, silently urging him to take it off. You got lost in the feeling of his warm skin against your fingers.

You heard a crash and a very loud, “What the fuck?”

You lifted your head off of Trevor’s and spotted Luke over the coach, his mouth wide open and his plate shattered on the floor.

“Put your damn shirt on.” He begun picking up bits and pieces of the plate.

“Jesus Christ, Luke. I thought you were on the boat.” You grabbed your shirt from beside you. Trevor made a noise when your leg dragged across his crotch as you got off of him. He covered it with his hand and his face with his hat.

“I wanted to watch this too. Thanks for ruining it. Just because everyone is gone doesn’t mean you can defile the couch like this,” Luke said, completely ignoring Trevor and focusing on you. “Quinn’s gonna kill him.”

“Well good thing Quinn doesn’t know, right?” you said warningly.

“Of course, but if he were to find out. . .”

“I’d kill you, then. Don’t be a menace.”

“Don’t fuck on the couch, fucking freaks,” Luke scoffed, and headed outside, saying nothing more about it.

“He didn’t seem to care much,” Trevor muttered.

“He doesn’t care. He just likes to terrorize me. You wouldn’t take him for the demon the he is with how quiet he is all the time, but he’s the fucking devil, so watch out. It’s why I didn’t want to tell him.” You thought back to the time where he “accidentally” pushed your ex boyfriend down the stairs in high school. It’s safe to say that you didn’t want to relive that.

“Well, he certainly knows now,” Trevor said. “That’s two out of three brothers and probably the rest of the house at this point.”

“I’ll tell Quinn soon, just not today,” You promised. “And preferably not when you’re within close proximity to him.”

For the next couple of days, it became clear that Trevor was right. The whole house knew except for big brother Quinn.

They weren’t being super subtle about it either, but good thing Quinn wasn’t great at picking up hints.

You and Trevor were getting sloppy with hiding it since you didn’t have to fake anything in front of most of the guys, but when Quinn was in the room, things were tense between you, but very enjoyable for your other two brothers to watch.

Three days after Luke caught you on the couch, you were all on the boat going for a sunset cruise.

You kept up steady conversation about this and that. Trevor was telling a story that you weren’t really listening to until you heard him say your name.

“So then Y/n was all like ‘What’s the deal with this shit?’ and I was like ‘I have no fucking clue,’”

“Wait a minute,” Quinn interrupted, lifting a hand from the steering wheel. “Why was Y/n in Anaheim? I thought she was with her friends for spring break that week.”

Your heart literally dropped to your ass. This was not how you wanted Quinn to find out. You wanted to sit him down in a space away from Trevor and break the news to him delicately. Not on a boat that he was driving in the middle of the lake.

Trevor stared at him before stuttering out an excuse. “Uh, she wasn’t. I was wherever she was and we ran into each other.”

“She was in Cabo. You said this happened at Disney Land. You’re talking about a Minnie Mouse parade. Are you on something?”

Jack was looking at you like your hair was on fire and Luke was staring at the floor. The rest of the boys were pretending like this wasn’t happening and distracting themselves with miscellaneous objects on the boat.

“I’m not on anything. I’m stone cold sober.”

Nice one, Trevor.

“Y/n, why were you in Anaheim with him?” Quinn asked calmly.

You were about to speak when you made eye contact with Jack (who looked like he might explode), and he took the liberty of doing it for you.

“They’ve been together for basically a year, and a few months ago I caught them together, and now everyone knows but you, and it’s been really stressing me out,” he said quickly.

“Oh my god, Jack, you can’t keep anything to yourself!”

“Everybody knows!” he protested.

“He doesn’t!”

The boat was approaching the dock, and Quinn didn’t say anything as he lined it up. “I don’t care who you date, Y/n. Just be responsible.”

“You really don’t care?” You were a little bewildered that he was so chill.

“Nah,” He said, looking over you, making sure that Luke was ready to jump off and tie it up.

Once the boat was secure, you all filed out onto the dock.

“Trevor, come here for a second,” Quinn said.

Trevor looked at you and you nodded. “I’ll be in the house,” you said, gesturing to the guys who were almost there.

Quinn wasted no time walking right up to Trevor and shoving him off the dock. He landed in the water with a big splash and resurfaced looking shocked with his hair in his eyes.

Your mouth fell open and Quinn brushed past you on the dock. “Quinn! What the hell?”

“I thought Jack told him to stay away from you. Guess he’s not too smart if he can’t do that.” He didn’t look at you, continuing to the house.

“Quinn, stop!” He did, and he turned around. He looked angry. “I’m the one who wanted to keep it a secret this whole time, don’t blame him.”

“Seriously, Y/n, you could’ve chosen any man in the world to be with, and that’s your pick?”

“It’s not my fault! I really didn’t mean to!”

“That’s reassuring,” Trevor muttered, grabbing onto the dock and hoisting himself up, rolling onto his back. He coughed a few times before getting up and grabbing a towel from the boat.

Trevor tried walking past Quinn but he grabbed his arm. “If I hear one complaint from her about you, when I shove you in the lake, I’ll make sure you drown.”

Trevor nodded. “You got it, boss.” He ran into the house, catching up with Jack and Cole, who were trying very hard not to laugh at him.

You sighed, watching him go. “You didn’t have to do that, Quinn.”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have to if I knew about it sooner.” He paused, running a hand over his face as he thought of what to say. “You should’ve told me. I thought we agreed you could trust me with anything.”

“I do trust you, Quinn, but you guys always do this. You, Luke, and Jack always give the guys I date shit and it never works out. Pretty much every one of my exes broke up with me because they were scared of you three, as fucking stupid as that is,” you confessed. “I didn’t want it to happen with Trevor. You don’t get it. He’s different.”

Quinn looked you up and down, taking in the look on your flushed face. “You love him.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll back off,” he said earnestly. “There are worse guys that you could be with.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “So, are we good?”

“If you’ll let us be.”

You nodded. “Of course. Let’s go inside now, Quinny.”

He followed you into the living room where everyone else was, they all tried to act like they weren’t paying attention. Trevor stood from the couch, looking at Quinn before looking at you.

“We’re all good,” you said. “He’s not gonna harass you, don’t worry.”

“I will if she wants me to, so watch out,” Quinn said.

Trevor grinned as Quinn came over to shake his hand. Jack snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough.

Quinn took Trevor’s spot on the couch and you nodded your head toward your bedroom. Trevor followed you there, ignoring the whistles from the boys.

He shut the door behind him, letting the towel he was using drop to the floor. He hugged you, getting your coverup wet as his damp curls tickled your neck.

“Free at last,” he murmured into your skin, making you giggle.

“Okay, get off. You smell like the lake, you gotta shower.” You pushed his chest away from you.

He grinned mischievously. “Only if you shower with me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way across your face as he reached under your coverup to pull at your bikini strings. “I don’t see why not.”

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader

Warnings: MINOR DNI 18+ (Oral, Fingering, P in V, Praise all around,) Its Porn With a substantial amount of plot?

Author's Note: Second Starkhub Installment for 'The Soldier & Eden Ivy' hope you all enjoy, make sure to drink some water...

STARKHUB - Eden Ivy Fucks Her Boss to keep her job

  Eden Ivy 

  Eden Ivy  

  Eden Ivy 

“Eden Ivy.”  Your name was on everyone’s tongue including his own. 

Stark looked up from his calendar brow raised and pen stilling over the boxed paper, “Eden Ivy?” He questions. “You know carter’s available for this shoot right?” Bucky nods, “I know, but I asked for Eden Ivy, not Carter.” Tony raises his hand in mock surrender, “easy there soldier, I heard you just making sure I heard right, ANYWAY.” Bucky watches his manager scribble your name in finalizing the soldier's filming week. The pen drops to the paper, Tony leaning back in his chair, “so Eden ivy,” he questions with a grin, “She’s really that good?” Bucky raises a brow in question, “what do you mean?” his boss leans forward, “oh c’mon Barnes it’s rare you film with female costars more than once. Carters your go to, your like Starkhubs ‘it couple’.” 

The broad-shouldered brunette grimaces, “we’re not a couple.” he grits shutting the rumor down. “She just happens to be the only one that can take what the soldier gives her, you know how intense it can get, not many like that.” 

Tony nods, “you’re right, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but if what I’ve heard of Eden Ivy so far is true – I think the soldier may have met his match.” His boss knocks on the desk after his thought, “well we’re done here pal and listen don’t forget to get with Pepper and Eden to let them know about the upcoming shoot, don’t want any surprises.” 

The brunette stands with a nod, “are they here today?” Tony looks down at his schedule, “they’re on set three should be wrapped already.” Bucky sees himself out of Tony’s office with a wave over his shoulder, feet carrying him out of the building containing the offices and into the building where the sets are located. 

Sex invades his senses as he passes the sets, pushing the door open for set three, he makes it two steps in before he’s freezing, cock hardening in his joggers.  

Quiet whimpers leave your teeth bitten lips, your body gyrating down onto a silicone pink cock, fingers buried between your thighs as you work quick circles over your clit. Bucky isn’t new to solo’s he’s done his fair share of them when he first started at Starkhub, but he’s never seen one look this good. If he was at home hidden behind a laptop, he’s certain he would be watching your scene right now hand wrapped tightly in a fist around his cock. 

He’s entranced by the way you bounce on the silicone, lips parted on a moan as filth spews from your lips. Pepper is the first to spot him, not that he takes any notice barely seeing her cross the floor to where he stands hard and aching. “Like what you see Barnes?” she teases, freeing him from Eden’s spell. He blinks owlish like as he looks over at his smirking bosses wife, “you could say that.” he speaks gruffly. “Tony said you would be wrapped up, sorry for just barging in.” he chokes out ears trained on your moans, you were close he could tell. Peppers grinning, “Tony knew our wrap time, though knowing him, he has his reasons.” is all she says as your climax hits, Bucky’s eyes shutting, teeth clenched, hands fisted at his sides as he hears you ride it out.  

“So, what can I do for you?” Pepper questions the buzz of the set ringing around the two of them as your set wraps. 

“I requested Eden for a scene on Friday, Tony wanted to make sure I ran it by the two of you to make sure she’s available.”  

The one thing Bucky loved about Pepper is how organized she was, he watched her pull out her phone, going into her planner for you. She scrolls through your scheduled week; she hums looking through your days.  

“She’s all yours,” she says looking up at him, “just make sure you let her know too.” Bucky nods and then she’s leaving him. He makes his way across the set, the crew moving around him as he closes the distance between the two of you. You’re still perched on the sets bed, a sheet lazily thrown over you, and a fucked out sweet smile on your lips. Suddenly he wishes he was the reason for that smile. 

Your gaze is locked on his as he closes the distance, “hi,” you breathe, “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me soldier?” You question teasingly gaze drawing down to the tent in his pants. Despite the cheesiness of your comment Bucky chuckles, “you wanna see just how happy you’ve made me Eden?” 

You try to conceal your grin, teeth capturing your bottom lip as you look up at him, “careful soldier, unless you want a free show, though between you and I we both know our bosses won’t take to kindly to that, nothings free here.” 

Bucky laughs more relaxed this time, “well maybe it won’t have to be a free show, are you available this Friday?” 

Your grin morphs into a smirk, “you want to make a video with me soldier, get me naked and spread out till I’m screaming your name?” 

He gets bold, leaning forward fingers hooking under your chin as he guides you up onto your knees, the flimsy sheet falling exposing your naked breasts to the room. “Want to do much more than a video with you, I want to wreck you, want you to only think of me when you’re with someone else, want to hear you screaming my name when you should be screaming theirs, and when I do, all I want to hear from you is thank you.” 

He’s not above taking you now, especially with how you preen his name, leaning into his touch wanting more. He pulls away, grinning when a whine leaves your lips, “I’ll see you Friday Eden, be a good girl for me now.” He leaves you with a wink, your body slumping into the messy sheets and a curse of his name leaving your lips. 

He’d have you cursing more than just his name come Friday, he’d have you begging. 

 

You were dressed in the tightest, tiniest skirt wardrobe could find you, a black silk blouse clinging to your skin, buttons popped open to just below your sternum - and the heels? 

 He was going to fuck you in those heels. The next time you wore them his name would be on your lips; he’d make sure of it. 

There was a pout on your painted features as you met ‘your boss’s’ demeaning gaze, you were swaying “nervously” in your spot, really playing into your role of being the scared secretary on the verge of losing her job. 

“I should fire you Eden,” he grunts pretending to look at the blank sheets of papers stuffed in a prop file handed to him before the cameras started running. “You fucked up my numbers, you’re fucking with my money. You know what I do to people that fuck with my money?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “I kick them out on their ass’s Eden.” 

You shrink back at his outburst, but he catches the way you rub your thighs together. “Please sir,” you whimper, fuck he wanted you on your knees, his hands fisted in your hair while he choked you on his cock. “I can’t afford to lose this job, my daddy will be so upset with me, please.” He huffs as he kicks away from his desk pushing to his feet as he watches you, strong arms brace him against the fake wood of his desk. “Daddy? You think I give a fuck what Daddy’s going to think? Is Daddy going to get me my money you just lost me?” 

Your lip's part to answer but a knock on the flimsy doors set sounds, the two of you look to the door, Bucky beckons them in. Walker newest recruit to Starkhub struts in paper in hand it was Tony’s idea to introduce him like this - you’d be filming his feature film with him next week. Bucky finds he hates it; he’s staring at Eden like he wants to eat her all while he brings the papers to the desk Bucky stands behind. Walker only stops undressing you with his eyes to tell ‘your boss’ he’s got the newest numbers for him.  

He could care less about the blonde male, but his blood runs white hot when Walker delivers a slap to your ass, one neither of you were expecting on his way off the set. “See you later Eden.” He chuckles, Bucky doesn’t miss the way you shrink back, Walker’s little slap wasn’t part of the script, so your tongue tied, thrown off. He takes control calling your name bringing you back to him, “Eden, eyes on me, you and I aren’t done talking,” your gaze returns to his, good girl he thinks. “You plan on telling your daddy that you messed up, hope he gives you money to fix your mess?” 

You shake your head, “I - No sir my daddy can’t know, he’s going to be so mad at me – please sir – I'll, I’ll do anything I can’t lose this job.” He pushes off the desk, rounding it, closing the distance between the two of you. He stops just a foot short of you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek, thumb running over the apple of it, “you really want to keep this job?” You're nodding eagerly, breath already uneven and he hasn’t even touched you the way he wants too, “and you’d do anything?” 

Those doe eyes you’re so good at dishing come to life, “Anything sir – please.” 

His gaze turns dark, hungry. “Get on your knees.” You gasp mock offense, “sir I -” his hand slips from your cheek falling to your neck, squeezing, “you said you would do anything – now I’m telling you to get on your knees. You want to keep your job, right? Keep daddy and me happy?” 

You’re nodding, “then get on your knees Eden.” 

Your descent is slow, his hand around your neck guiding you as you get down on your knees for him. You look up at him as your fingers reach for the belt buckled through his slacks, you pull the belt from the buckle opening the leather. Your fingers move onto the button holding his slacks closed next letting it pop open, a groan bubbles in his chest when your nimble fingers brush against his hardened cock as you pull the zipper down slowly. Your fingers hook over the top of his slack and boxers tugging on them, his cock springs free from its confines, he watches you lick over your lower lip.  

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs hand sliding up your neck to cradle the side of your head, “now show me just how much you want to keep this job.”  

 Eyes locked on his you get your fingers around his girth, hand fisting around the base of his cock. He waits with bated breath, dark hungry eyes watching you lean forward letting his hand that cradles you follow your movement. Your tongue peeks out past your lips to lick along the underside of his cock, your tongue running over every vein that has his breath leaving his chest. His head falls back a long low grunt falling from his lips as your tongue swirls around the tip before you take him fully into the wet, warm, heat of your mouth till your stretched out around the base of his cock, till he’s hitting the back of your throat. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingers fisting tugging as he guides your motion “just like that” he moans, “fuck Eden knew you were good at something.”   

You moan around his cock, your other hand finding his muscled thigh as you brace yourself, jaw slacking, eyes begging. The fist he has in your hair tightens, his other finding your cheek as he holds you still, complacent. He grinds into your mouth once, twice before he pulls you back till only the tip rests on your tongue, all self-control is lost on him as he fucks his way back into your mouth, pace unrelenting as he makes you take what he gives you. 

“That’s it,” he growls, watching your mascara streak with the tears that pull from your eyes, “take this cock Eden, take it like a good fucking girl, let me see how bad you want it.”  He tugs you off with a snarl harsh tug to your hair as he holds you at arm's length to get a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Your spit pools around your lips, dripping down your chin, staining the black satin shirt a shade darker. He can feel his cock pulse at the sight, watching as you run a thumb over your lips sucking the digit into your mouth as you lick yourself clean, “Did I do good sir? Yont won’t tell my daddy?” 

He takes hold of his own cock, bringing you back into your space as he taps your parted lips with his member, he groans when your tongue slides out, “I don’t know Eden, I don’t feel like you’re very sorry, like you really want this job.” 

You’re whining, kitten licking his cock as if that will fix your ‘mistakes’, “please sir,” you plead doe eyes beaming up at him, “I said I would do anything – and I mean anything.” 

A growl vibrates in his chest as he halls you up, a cry so pretty leaving your lips as you stumble to your feet falling into his embrace. Hand still fisted in your hair, the other finding purchase on your neck as he brings your lips to his, tongue wasting no time as he delves into your parted lips licking up into your mouth. 

“I want you naked, bent over that desk Eden - heels on.” 

You’re tense as you wait bent over the wooden desk, breath caught in your throat, ass high in the air. He drinks you in, watching you all spread out and waiting, your poor pretty pussy clenching around nothing waiting to be filled.  

He takes slow steps forward, “she’s a hungry thing isn’t she.” He husks from behind you. The first contact made is his hand slapping your pussy, the action jolting you up the desk, gasp tumbling from your lips. “Oh yes she is.” he murmurs fingers dipping into your sodden folds, you moan, head thumping against the desk at his touch, “sir please.” You push back into his hand, gyrating against the desk, he leans over you, thick digits circling your clit sweeping up your slick before plunging into your awaiting heat. 

A moan leaves your parted lips, “you’re soaked Eden, slipped in so easily, who got you this wet? Was it Walker?” 

His hot words ghost over your neck, you shake your head, biting back the whimpers, “No sir.” His fingers fuck into you, “tell me Eden who has you this wet?” 

“You sir – please.” you preen pushing back into him, eager as ever. 

“You’re such a good girl Eden,” he murmurs leaning into to nip at the lobe of your ear, “Do you only listen when your cunt is stuffed?” 

You swallow back the yes, instead answering, “no sir – I can listen, I can be good, I promise.” 

“Of course you’ll be good, you’ll do what I tell you if you want to keep this job.” he murmurs ravishing your skin, licking, nipping, biting any of you that he can reach. You’re so reactive to it all, preening his name as he fucks you with his fingers your ass pressing back into his hand as you try to get some control, get him a little deeper. “That’s it, fuck yourself sweetheart, come on my fingers Eden, get yourself wet for me – get yourself ready.” 

The wet slick slide of his fingers into your drenched cunt fill the sets air, skin slapping skin. “Sir please – please!” His teeth capture the lobe of your ear, “Come on Eden, you’ve had no problem taking from me before, come on my fingers, come on.” 

A low moan builds in his chest at the tightening of your cunt against his fingers, a broken cry leaving your lips as your orgasm washes over you. “That’s it Eden good fucking girl,” he growls his warmth that covered your back disappearing as he pushes up, his other hand holding your hips down as he fucks his fingers into you with vigor. 

A cry of his name leaves your lips, hands scrambling to grab a hold of his wrist, he's unbothered, “uh uh Eden, M’not done give me one more, come on now. You’ve taken from me now it’s my turn.” It doesn’t take him long to pull another from you, your body going taught as you gush around his fingers, wetting his slacks. “Fuck such a good fucking girl.” he growls. 

A whine leaves your lips when he pulls his fingers out, making quick work of repushing down his slacks to let his hardened cock spring free again. He covers you with his body again pulling a groan from you as he swipes his dick through your slick getting himself wet. “What’s wrong Eden, you think you’re the only one that can take? Think you could fuck me without getting fucked yourself?” 

Your answer is a choked-out moan as he slides into the wet warm heat of your channel, walls constricting him like a vice. “Fuck,” he growls sliding in till he’s buried to the hilt, the hand that fucked you covering your mouth, “let’s get one thing straight here Eden the only one doing the fucking here will be me. You ever fuck me over again, and you’ll find yourself in a far worse position then this one, you understand?” You’re nodding, whines bubbling past the hold he has on your mouth his cock accentuating every word. 

He can’t hold back anymore as he grabs the parts of you he can with his other hand holding you in place as he makes you take his cock. He only uncovers your mouth to hear how pretty you cry as he drives into you over and over again. He wrecks you like he promised, your body taking every inch of him, “that’s right take my cock like you took my money, keep me happy and you keep daddy happy,” he growls feeling himself closing in on his high. 

He doesn’t want it to end this soon, he wants to have you under him for hours crying for him to stop, that you can’t take anymore maybe another time right now he needed to give clint his money shot. So he pulls out, biting back the groan as he manhandles you to the floor, getting you on your knees as he fists his cock. Your eager for it, tongue rolling out as you look up at him waiting for his cum to paint your tongue, “should have you on your knees more often, it's a good look for you,” he grunts feeling the pleasure build, “much better than that desk you sit behind.” 

Your moaning drives him over the edge, his cum shooting from his cock, painting your cheeks, lips, tongue. He’s winded breath heavy as he watches you clean up his cum from your face with your fingers, he didn’t think he could get hard again but watching your lick your digits clean of his cum would be the thing to do it. He drops to a squat hand fisting in your hair as he brings your lips to his, its a wet dirty kiss all teeth and tongue as he tastes himself on you. 

He wants to laugh when you speak your last line, “does this mean I can keep my job?” but he doesn't instead he pats your cheek thumb running over your lower lip, tugging it down, “you keep me happy, you can have whatever job you want.” 

“Yes Sir.” 

Clints calling cut over his shoulder, the loud buzz of a finished set sounding in the air.  

The two of you relax then your back pressed against the wooden desk as you catch your breath. “How you doing Eden you alright?” he questions needing to check in. 

You smile at him, “more than alright soldier, you always show your costars this good of a time?” 

“If they’re not having a good time m’not doing my job sweetheart.” he answers hands going to the buttons of his shirt. You watch in question as he undoes each button, entranced as he pulls it off handing it to you. Your smile is soft as you take the fabric from his hands putting it on to cover up your naked body.  

“Careful soldier or I might take more than just your money.” 

He laughs, he was betting on it. 

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

Leonardo (NSFW Alphabet)

Bayverse Leonardo x F!Reader

First of four instalments of my NSFW Alphabet series. Word count: 2500. Some warnings of bondage, overstimulation, breeding and trauma.

Leonardo’s nature is leadership and taking charge, and that would reflect in the bedroom, despite his initial inexperience. Moment’s when he’s willing to let you take the lead or let you treat him are super DELICIOUS- but he prefers to serve and command your pleasure. Very dominant. 

Enjoy!

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) - Chemical rush hits him particularly hard. He’s a lot more relaxed and often smiles and laughs and asks if you’re okay, even if he was in a grumpy mood previously. Will press kisses everywhere. Learned very fast he hates feeling dirty, so he’s usually up and about very fast. But he also loves the intimacy of cleaning his partner. Fetching you water and getting you into a comfortable resting position, manhandling you over a towl and giving you kisses and nuzzles all comes naturally to him.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs or partner) - He loves your back and neck and collar bones. He could pet and hold and trace them all day. 

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum) - He isn’t relaxed about it. Will almost always stiffen up and go quiet. He’ll grab something, like the pillows or blankets and squeeze there. He knows he can hurt you. If he makes any noise it’s always on that first exhale when the orgasm releases him. Something choked and sometimes a little loud before he starts to catch his breath and relax. 

D - Dirty Secret - When he was young, he came across a shibari magazine. He still has it to this day. He thought he was into hard-core dom stuff, but then when he got an actual partner he would realize how not happy he is when his partner isn’t feeling incredible. Becomes much more of a soft-dom type. Lots of petting and kissing you while he holds you down and takes care of you, type stuff. But yunno, he was suspiciously very good at shibari in the beginning.

E - Experience (How much experience do they have) - He doesn’t know shit and he HATES it. So it take forever for him to actually want to have sex for real. Him not knowing what to do is very vulnerable and frustrating for him, especially when you get hurt. Communicating to him at first is like walking on egg shells. So when his dick is stretching you a little too far too quickly, you making a hurt noise or yelping out 'stop' it horrifies him. You gotta keep him on track and out of his head a lot in the beginning.

F - Favorite Position - Positions are one of those things he loves to experiment and mess around with. Even the crazy goofy looking ones. His superhuman flexibility, strength, and love for physical fitness will do nothing but assist. But if he HAD to pick a favorite; Missionary. But the kind of missionary where he has a thumb in your mouth and his lips against your temple while he holds your legs where he wants them while he grinds hard into you. Loves the power and intimacy there, and it gives him easy access to talk or bite. 

G - Goofy (How goofy are they?) - At first, not silly at all. Then even with experience he still appreciates the seriousness and intensity of sex. But Leo actually smiles and laughs a lot during sex. Lots of firm kisses and nuzzles, even if things are getting intense for you. His job is done when you can't stand on your own, have tears all over your face from how good it felt; but you're giggling and hugging him. Loves to flirt and joke with you, in and out sex. Very boyish about it. 

H - Hair - Beyond his desire to have things clean, he doesn’t care.

I - Intensity (How are they during the moment) - Outside of the first several times he has sex, he usually has his wits about him, so it is almost always intense for you. Sex becomes an easy outlet to release energy and strong emotions. That means you are the sole receiver of such things, and he likes it that way. Leo doesn't experience emotional sex until later in a relationship, and it will affect him very deeply; so be prepared to handle a very needy, clingy, and tired Leo for at least an hour or so. 

J - Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon) - He hates masturbating. He’s too paranoid and he always feels that he’s doing something wrong. He hates it, but he needs it. He knows it will take the edge of frustration off. So when he does; it is ALWAYS in the shower. He needs privacy and it’s easy to clean and forget about. It’s almost never on his mind until it’s in the middle of the night and he CAN’T. Makes it extra hard to sleep sometimes. 

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks) - One time he had you in doggy, and he was getting close. He had huddled all around you and had bit your shoulder when you whispered, “Breed, that pussy Leo. Give it to me, give me a baby-” His brain rewired that day. Knew kink unlocked.

L - Location (Favorite places to do the deed) - He REALLY needs privacy. And familiarity. He struggles to focus on anything other than your safety when you are in a new or public place; and sex is (almost) never on his mind when his family is around. Even if you got hands all over him. If he gets familiar with your apartment, he might venture out into odd spots around there if you live alone. But- he IS kinda into the thought of having outdoorsy sex. He loves the sun. Anddd he loves the water. So If you SOMEHOW convince him to stay in a lakeside cabin, or a super pimped up apartment with a private outdoor pool, with no one around, just saying…perfect anniversary/birthday present for him.

M - Motivation (What turns them on) - Like I said, if you get him some safety and privacy (usually your bedroom or apartment with the door locked) Leo will suddenly want sex with you like- ALL THE TIME.

N - No (Turn OFFs) - Don’t hit him, don’t degrade him, and the instant you say stop or no- he’s done. It’s actually a struggle (especially in the beginning) to get him back in the mood if he actually hurts you. It made teaching ‘what hurts and what doesn’t’ a little rough. He would greatly benefit from the ‘color system’ technique over a safe word. It allows him to check in and get assurance and feed back and much as he needs to- instead of having to wait for your explicit ‘no stop’. Also allows him to remain confident even if you’re ‘struggling away’ or shaking uncontrollably or making really, really sexy overwhelmed noises. Yunno...

O - Oral (Preference in giving/receiving) - Leo gives regularly (constantly). He takes pride in being…really good at it. However he LOVES receiving. He rarely - if ever - asks for a bj. But fuck, it’s one of his favorite things. He loves looking down at you and making eye contact with you while you stare at him and love on him and (struggle) to suck, touch and please him. It blows his mind and he thinks about it constantly. But he’s also aware he gets a little more reactive like this. His noises get a little louder and higher, his eye's roll back a lot, he twitches and shakes a tad bit more than he usually allows himself to. He thinks the loss of control is a little embarrassing. You think it's hot as fuck.

P - Pace (Are they fast/rough or slow/sensual) - This boy LOVES to drag sex out. He’ll slow down or speed up when he sees fit. Especially if it drags out your finish. Or gets you to finish multiple times. He will rarely get physically rough during sex beyond some hair pulling and manhandling. The roughest he gets is when he’s close, when he needs to speed up or grab/bite you. The bruises are always worth it. 

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies) - His need for privacy and you’re safety make quickies difficult if not outright impossible. Unless it’s his season or ya’ll haven't had privacy in days- yeah, he’s taking you to the bathroom and you’re going to be very quiet for him, you understand?

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks, etc) - Leo doesn’t like to actually be restrained. So beyond public/indecent acts and something that can ACTUALLY prevent him from rising to an emergency situation - he is down to try everything once with you. You sometimes have to beg him to be on the receiving, submissive side of things. But it doesn’t take much effort at all if he’s in a good mood. He will desire at least some research into some topics, but he’s already big on communication, so that would make navigating new things much, much easier.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last) - All of the turtles have superhuman stamina. With practice, Leo could have sex all day if you allowed it. 

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them?) - Leo was never ever opposed to toys. He’d be awkward about things being placed on him. Doesn’t really use them on himself. But he’d master toys very, very quickly, and would see them as the tools (torture devices) that they are. I also see him (with age and experience) owning his own small collection eventually. Mainly vibrators and rope, and I see him liking glass things. He thinks they are beautiful and easy to clean. 

U - Unfair (How much do they tease) - In the realm of PDA, when he’s trying to tease you sexually he actually goes the opposite than physical touch? His teasing comes in the form of super SUPER intense bedroom eyes. All while he’s got some ‘grumpy’ almost prowley body language. It would look like he's kinda irritated, like he’d be in a chair with one hand on his face while bouncing his leg. Then he’d look up at you and you’d just KNOW. Or he’d be walking somewhere on the other side of the room and he’s walking all slow and intense and he's giving you LOOKS to the point where you don’t want to look at him. It’s JUST subtle enough that no one seems to notice, but it’s hot. The type to duck down close enough to whisper, "I need you naked and on the bed as soon as we get home, you hear me?"

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds?) - Okay, if you ask Leo this question, he’s gonna deny he makes noises. He’s one of THOSE guys. Thinks it’s embarrassing. But he’s a liar. He is very noisy. He wasn’t at first, given his background paranoia around sex and masturbation and how ‘unprivate’ his life has been. But during sex, when he’s out of breath he makes growly, frustrated sounds. But on days when you treat him, when you’re riding him or giving him a bj and he’s 'not allowed to touch'- his moans get a little desperate and almost emotional. It’s rare but it’s SUPER hot when he whimpers. He won’t make a peep in the middle of orgasm but depending on it’s strength, his next noise can be pretty loud. Sometimes he bites something or buries his face in you in an effort to avoid letting anything out. While his noises are super sexy, watching Leo try to hide them is also kinda hot too.

W - Wild Card (Random) - He’s always secretly dreamed he could get married. Have a house, a wife and kids- His fantasy of having you married, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen is something that will take him years to admit to you. Sex gets extremely vulnerable and intense for him very very quickly if you two start dirty talking about getting you pregnant. He will need an hour of recovery and closeness after, and if he doesn’t get that (if you two get interrupted or pulled away), anything that prevents him from recharging in your arms- he won’t be okay for a while. Leaves him in a dark mental space. 

X - X-Ray (what’s going on in those pants) - I am team cloaca. Leo's still pretty big, proportionate to himself, and that means MASSIVE for you. Despite the extra lubricant and smoothness of his erection, he takes great care to prepare you always for his size, if it even gets to that point. He’s not the type to think penetration is the best part of sex, and is happy to let it go for the sake of earning you and/or him a fantastic orgasm (or several).

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive) - He can go weeks without having sex, but that does not mean he doesn't want it.  The frequency of sex is not as high on the list as a lot of other things, but he craves it daily with you. His drive is very high, and he will pounce on every opportunity you allow. His self control, discipline, and life-long experience SUPPRESSING his sexual drive assist in keeping his yearning under control. 

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Leo is huge on clean up, and he’s instinctively a provider so he is quick to hand you water, manhandle you on top of a towel, then curl up for cuddles and kisses and laughs. Sleep (especially deep sleep) is difficult for Leo. But if you provide him with a long, physically exerting session, a strong orgasm, your arms and legs around him and lots of cuddles and kisses, suddenly everything is right with the world, everything is going to be okay, and he always finds the best sleep like this. Always. 

[threestarsinline]

Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)

Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!

<Part I

After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.

Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.

Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.

Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.

Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.

And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.

Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.

And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.

When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.

“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.

“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.

“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.

“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.

“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.

“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.

You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.

Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.

But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.

These damn braids.

Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.

He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.

She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.

They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.

He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.

“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.

Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.

“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.

“She’s nice and funny.”

“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.

“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.

Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.

Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.

“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.

She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.

Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-

“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.

Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.

He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.

“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not this time, no.”

“No? Impossible.”

“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”

“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.

He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.

“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.

“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”

You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.

“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.

“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.

As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.

“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.

And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.

“Yeah.” He whispers back.

Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.

“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.

“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment. 

“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.

Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.

No matter how much he might want to.

So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.

He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further. 

He has never felt safer.

The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.

But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.

“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.

With you? Always.

“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.

And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.

He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.

“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.

As if he could think anything negative about you.

“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books. 

Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.

Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.

As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.

He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.

Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.

“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.

He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.

“Tell me more.” He says.

At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”

It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.

After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.

So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.

Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.

You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.

In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.

Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.

You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding. 

You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.

But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.

Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.

Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.

And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.

Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.

You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.

His left hand on your waist.

His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.

Your chests almost touching each other.

Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.

You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.

You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.

You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.

Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.

And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.

You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.

He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.

You feel safe.

The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.

Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.

And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.

Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.

Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.

Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.

Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.

It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.

His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.

You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.

You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.

You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.

And then-

“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.

And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.

You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.

When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.

Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.

“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.

“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.

“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.

You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.

You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.

But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.

The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.

Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.

Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen. 

Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.

But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?

“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.

“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.

“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”

“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.

“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”

“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”

But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.

You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.

You look beautiful.

You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.

But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Dread. Panic.

Because what if you actually do have a date?

Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.

His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.

But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.

But still, neither of you had said that out loud.

And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.

Right?

Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.

He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?

If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.

That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.

Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.

The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.

The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly. 

And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.

He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.

And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.

The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.

What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.

But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.

So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:

“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.

You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.

Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.

He hasn’t lost his chance.

“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”

You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.

“Thanks again for letting me go early.”

“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”

“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.

You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.

As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.

Jason smiles at the fond interaction.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.

“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”

Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.

But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”

“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.

“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.

You feel your whole face heat up.

“Thanks.”

You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?

Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.

But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.

He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.

You.

He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.

The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.

You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.

Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.

And now you were in danger.

Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.

He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.

The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.

The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.

Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.

If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.

Going to you.

Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.

They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.

Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.

Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.

But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.

And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.

Go. We handle this here.

And with that, Jason set off.

The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.

As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Steph and Duke shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.

His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.

You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.

Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.

However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.

Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.

He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.

He calls you by your name.

How does he even know your name?

You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.

Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.

Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.

Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.

Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.

How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?

Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.

Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.

And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.

You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.

For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.

And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.

Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.

He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.

In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.

He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.

It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.

And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.

He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.

But it’s the only way to keep you safe.

And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.

And that’s exactly what he does.

You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.

It really is him.

He’s Red Hood.

Jason is Red Hood.

Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.

Your Jason.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.

“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.

“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.

And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.

Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.

You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.

“What are you doing?” You say.

“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.

“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.

Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.

“No. I’m not taking it.”

“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”

You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.

“But-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”

Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.

“Always.”

Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.

Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

Everything is going to be okay.

But then Jason starts coughing.

The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.

Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.

You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.

And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.

How could you have been so foolish?

You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.

Nothing.

You can’t take it off.

He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.

You can’t protect him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.

You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.

One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.

Because you can’t help him.

And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.

And your heart breaks all over again.

The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.

You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.

“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.

“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.

And then his hand holding yours falls limp.

And with it, your heart does too.

You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.

You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.

You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.

Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.

Although you fear that probably not for much longer.

Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.

And then the door to the break room bursts open.

You look up and there Red Robin stands.

And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.

Tim.

Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.

Save him.

Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.

Even before him.

Your only solace being that he’s alive.

You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.

Jason is alive. He is okay.

After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.

He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.

But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.

But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.

However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.

Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.

Probably more the later than the former but still.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.

Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.

In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.

Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.

They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.

You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.

Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.

The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.

You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.

But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.

You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.

Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.

The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.

Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.

If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.

You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.

Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.

Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.

And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.

So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.

You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.

Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.

And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.

But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.

It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.

Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.

Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.

He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.

He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.

And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.

He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.

That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.

And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.

It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer. 

When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.

He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.

Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.

“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.

Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.

Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.

It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.

And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.

And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.

“Yeah.” He finally responds.

Great, Jason. Very eloquent.

No turning back now.

He gulps.

“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?

He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:

“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit. 

You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.

“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.

You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.

There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.

The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.

But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.

Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.

He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.

This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.

But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.

He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.

After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.

He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.

Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.

A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.

He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.

And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.

And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.

Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.

That’s you.

The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.

As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.

And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.

You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.

You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.

Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.

But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.

Because at least he was here.

And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.

His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.

So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.

And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.

And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.

And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.

And you know what?

He still was your Jason.

He still was the man that you were in love with.

Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.

Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.

And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong. 

No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.

Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.

You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.

You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.

You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.

Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.

And he should be treated just like one.

And that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.

You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.

Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.

And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.

From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.

He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.

And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.

Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.

But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.

He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.

“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.

Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.

You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.

Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.

“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.

“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.

“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.

You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.

“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.

“Jason, you don’t-”

“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.

Goosebumps raise all over your skin.

Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.

As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.

The question being, would it stand the storm?

You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”

“Jason, I-”

“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”

You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.

And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.

But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.

Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.

Not even himself.

And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.

You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.

You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.

You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.

You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.

And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.

So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.

It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.

A soft place to land, a warm embrace.

You think that you could die happily right now.

You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.

“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.

“I’m a mess.”

You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”

“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.

You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”

“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.

“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.

“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.

Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.

Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.

Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.

Except that now, you always patched him up.

Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.

And right now, you’re very confused.

Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.

You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.

“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.

“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.

Because there he is.

Jason Todd.

Your boyfriend.

You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.

You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.

He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.

Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.

He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.

God, he loves you so much.

Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.

He’s finally home.

Two weeks and a half is too long without you.

You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.

The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.

God, you love him so much.

You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.

The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.

And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.

It was a long time coming.

But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.

Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.

One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.

“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.

You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.

Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.

And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.

“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.

“Yeah. All good.”

Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.

“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.

“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.

“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.

“It’s okay.” You say.

“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.

“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?

“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.

“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.

“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.

“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.

Shivers run down your spine.

You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.

“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.

But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.

You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.

“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.

“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.

As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.

“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”

Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.

“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.

The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.

Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.

Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.

Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

This is a direct follow up to #391

#396

“Fuckface, I don’t care what demons your preacher dad put into your head.  The fact that you are coming to the realization that that part of your life is over.  He must have really fucked you up, cause I have never seen a twenty-year-old take a beating like that.  I shredded your back to ribbons, and all you did was say you were sorry over and over.  You almost make me feel sorry for you.  But I don’t….

“But the sad thing is I do care that I have the son of a vehement anti-gay preacher in my cab.  A son that was rock hard and leaking while I was laying my whip into you.  Did you know that?

“Yeah, while you were crying, your dick was loving every minute of it.  Let me ask you.  You want this?  You want to suck dick, take it up the ass, and get smacked around for a life?

“You are going to have to do more than nod.  Here, come back with me to my bunk.  You are going to suck on my dick a bit….  Kneel there between my legs while I lay back….  Yeah, I know you’re still sore, but oh well.  Help me get these pants off….

“Ok this is what I want you to.  I’m going to be filming you.  This will be your confessional and coming out video in one.  You are to suck my seven-and-a-half-inch fat dick, but I want you to pull off and talk to the camera from time to time.  But when you do, I want you to jerk my dick and rub it on your face continually as you talk.  You are to tell the camera that you love cock.  You can’t get enough of it in your mouth and  in your ass.  Tell the camera that you’ve been living a lie, and you denounce your previous life—a life you have no intention of returning to.  Also, tell the camera that you ran away from the first driver at the first chance you had.  He needs to be washed free from any responsibility of you.

“You got all that?  It is important that you hit every one of those points.  And when you are done sucking and talking, I’m going to lift my legs.  I want you to move down to eating my hole.  Make sure you moan.  Still stroke my cock.  I want to show the viewer how much of a pig you are.  You ready?  Look at the camera.  Go!…

“…

“…Atta boy.  That was good.  That video will definitely make a statement.  And I love that your gold cross from your necklace was able to make an appearance or two.

“You can stop slurping my shit hole now.  You’ll have plenty of time to do that later.  Help me get my legs down.  We need to get going, and I need to install you.

“Install is the right word here.  Here, put these wrist restraints on….  Yeah, you ain’t the first faggot I have bound up in here; you ain’t going to be the last either.  Normally I would just hogtie you to the bunk, but since I am bobtailing, it would be very rare that we’ll be pulled over by the DoT. 

“Here’s some ankle restraints for you to put on as well.  I own this trailer outright.  I have made a few modifications for my transport of fag meat.  These heavy-duty bungee restraints are better than chain or rope.  As we roll down the highway, they will keep you in place with your legs spread and secured to the sides. 

“Move aside; I need to be behind you.  This third bungee will connect your two ankles together.  All three will keep you centered with your legs apart.

“Give me your hand.  Your wrists will be attached to bungees as well.  I’ll have you standing spread eagle naked as we drive the next few hundred miles.  When I bought this tractor I made sure that there was a little extra room.  Some of these cabs can be so tiny.

“That one went on easy.  Now the other.

“…There!  How does it feel?  No, don’t bother answering.  I don’t care. 

“Damn you look good, being all stretched out.  Your back and ass are nicely welted up.  The bleeding seems to have stopped.  This is so hot.  Arch your back and stick your ass out.  I need to fuck it.

“I don’t have much time.  Damn you are still loose from earlier.  Fuck.  This cunt was really made for cock.  It’s not going to take me much time.  Oh yeah. 

“…Mmmmm.  Oh yeah.  This cunt is going to be used tonight.  I contacted my riding buddies.  You ever been gang banged by a bunch of gay and bi bikers?  They know how to use faggot piece of shits like you.  They know who you are and who your papa is.  They won’t care that you made those videos demonstrating your love for cock.  They’ll probably make their own videos too. 

“I’m getting close boy.  Tighten up around my dick.  Fuck yeah boy.  You ready?  You ready?  Here it comes boy.  Ahh. Ahh. Ahhhhhh!!!!

“Damn faggot.  You have a righteous cunt.  Clamp down as I pull out.

“We got to get going.  I still have a few things to add. 

“This is one of my creations.  It’s like an anal hook except that it’s got a butt plug on the end instead of a steel ball.  It goes in your cunt like this.  Normally faggots like you struggle, but with the amount of dick you received today, you have one giant gape.  It’s affixed to a metal rod that goes from your cunt and up your crack to the small of your back.  There this heavy chain will suspend you from the ceiling. 

“There’s no bungee on this.  It should help you deal with the truck movements.  I used to have a slave mounting post with a dildo mounted on the top, but it was too cumbersome to work with in this tight space.

“This collar gets secured to the chain as well.  Nothing puts a fag slave in its right frame of mind than a collar being locked on.  Well, excluding a back full of welts and cuts.

“This necklace and its gold cross is coming off.  You don’t need it anymore…. 

“Shut up!  That was a statement of fact, not an invitation for an open discussion….  I don’t give a shit who gave it to you.

“…Open your mouth.  …You are the reason why God created gags.  Hold still, I just got to buckle it on.  …There!  No more talking for you.  You’ll be blindfolded, but there are other things I need to show you.

“Hold still.  I need to get in front.  Can’t much drive while standing behind you.  Oh, I should hang this from the roof as well.

“OK move aside, now.  …There!  You look good there all spread out. 

“But I’m not done.  You need to be wearing my jewelry….  The first is a pair of titty clamps, and not just any titty clamps.  These have weights dangling from them.  It hurts, doesn’t it?...  Good.  Second set goes on.  Ha!  You can’t pull away.  Those bungee cords and the anal hook pull you right back in position.

“They’ll be tight, but you will still have blood flow.  Damn that looks better dangling on your chest than some gold chain with a cross.

“Oh lookie there!  With all that I am doing to you, your pecker is semi hard.  And look at those balls!  They are just hanging there.  Don’t worry.  I have something for them too.

“This is a ball collar.  It’s flat and wide.  It opens, closes, and locks in place rather easily Your sack fits in very comfortably in the half-inch space between the front and back pieces, but there is no way that either ball will be able to squeeze through.  Once it’s on, like I just locked it in place, there ain’t no way it’s coming off unless I allow it.

“Feels fine, doesn’t it? 

“The other interesting feature is that it has a ring in the center of the front and a matching one in the back.  And wouldn’t you know, I have weights to attach to it.  That’s one, …and that’s the second. 

“Oh look at those balls getting pulled away.  Fuck that’s hot. 

“I should say that the weights on your titties and your balls are attached with a strong elastic connector.  So they are going to be bouncing around.  Every pothole I hit, every uneven part of the road, every gear shift, this cab rocks back and forth. 

“We are bobtailing.  That means that there’s no trailer, no trailer to stabilize the movements of the tractor.  It’s going to be a bumpy ride, and those weights are going to be bouncing all over the place.

“You ready to get rolling?

“Oh wait.  There’s one more thing.  I need to show you this…. 

“…You look puzzled.  I bet you are thinking, why does a truck driver have a toilet brush?  There are no toilets in this cab…  well no porcelain ones.  I can’t speak to your talents… yet.

“And look at it.  It’s an expensive one.  Solid metal handle.  The bristles are firm.  I would hand it to you to feel, but your hands are otherwise occupied.  Trust me when I say this.  This fucker is heavy.

“Before coming to stand in front of you I hung a very elastic cord from the roof about 6 inches behind you.  This brush now hangs from it.  With every movement of this cab, it’s going to bounce and swing all around behind you.  It may even strike you, reaching anywhere from your thighs to your shoulders.  Your bloody welted back is a certainty. 

“Hey!  I just had a great idea.  Let me take your necklace and wrap it around the bristles.  That way as it strikes your back, you can thank your dad and thank Jesus.

“Ok blindfold on.  My secondary dash cam is filming your struggle.  And lastly, my noise canceling headset will be on.  If I can find one of your dad’s sermons on the evils of the gays, I will blast it for you to hear.  Found one. “Let’s get rolling.  Damn, not even into third gear and the screaming have begun.”

[hunkpossession0]

Stealing my former high school bully’s body was so easyyy. Look, now I am hot, and the best part is that I’m gay.

I leaned back in the plush leather seat of his—no, my—new car, savoring the feeling of power. God, I’d waited so long for this. All those years of torment, the sneers, the shoves into lockers, the homophobic slurs... they were all a distant memory now, fading away like smoke. The only thing that mattered was this body I was now inhabiting, perfectly sculpted and oozing confidence.

I smirked at the reflection in the rearview mirror. His—my—strong jawline, the chiseled features that had made everyone swoon, and those piercing blue eyes that used to look down on me with contempt were now mine to control. And control them I would.

The plan had come to me after a particularly rough night, one too many drinks mixed with the lingering bitterness of my high school years. I’d always been obsessed with the idea of revenge, but not the kind that left scars. I wanted something deeper, more satisfying. I wanted to become him. To live the life he’d never appreciated and do it better.

It wasn’t hard to find a spell. You’d be surprised at how many dark corners of the internet are devoted to body swapping. A few emails, a payment sent in crypto, and a strange-looking amulet later, I was ready. The ritual was simple enough—though it took a lot of concentration. But the moment I slipped it around his neck while he slept, it was over in seconds. I woke up in his bed, in his skin, and he… well, I don’t know where he is now. I like to imagine he’s trapped somewhere, conscious of what’s happening but completely powerless.

The first thing I did was check myself out in the mirror—really take in everything I’d just acquired. This body wasn’t just hot; it was perfect. Years of disciplined workouts, clean eating, and who knows what else had transformed him into someone who looked like they walked straight off a magazine cover.

Actually, make that literally off a magazine cover. I found a stack of fashion magazines under his bed with his stupidly gorgeous face plastered on them. He’d somehow turned his pretty-boy looks and gym rat habits into a full-fledged modeling career. I guess that explained the ridiculous number of selfies on his phone, each one showing off a different outfit or a perfectly timed flex in front of the mirror.

So yeah, I wasn’t giving up the gym. If anything, I was leaning into it. It’s not like I had to do much to maintain this body—he’d already done the hard work, and now I was reaping the benefits. I still hit the gym daily, if only to flex for the mirrors and admire my reflection. The attention I get now is incredible, and the best part is, I can be shameless about it.

Of course, I couldn’t wait to see what Grindr was like from this side of things. Installing the app was the first thing I did once I figured out the password to his phone. The moment I uploaded a shirtless pic, the notifications started rolling in—an endless stream of thirsty messages. Guys were practically lining up for a chance with me, throwing compliments, and I have to admit, I loved every second of it.

I’d spend hours swiping through profiles, chatting up whoever caught my eye. The way people reacted to me now was night and day compared to before. No more awkward small talk, no more second-guessing myself. I could tell someone to meet me at the gym just to watch me lift, and they’d show up without hesitation.

And the best part? I’ve started getting more gigs, just from a few posts on social media showing off his—no, my—body. Modeling agencies are all about that lean muscle, those killer cheekbones, that smirk that could melt anyone on the other end of the camera. He’d never really appreciated what he had, but I’m about to take this career to the next level. I’ve already got a photoshoot lined up for some luxury brand—an easy way to rake in the cash while showing off.

His—my—Instagram is blowing up too. I’m always in the gym, flexing and posting thirst traps for the masses. The likes pour in, and the comments? They’re pure gold. People are practically worshipping me, and I’ve only just begun. This body was wasted on him, but now that it’s mine, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.

Every time I flex, every time I see a new message pop up on Grindr, it’s a reminder of just how sweet this revenge is. Not only did I take his body, but I’m living his life better than he ever could. I’m hotter, more confident, and finally free to be myself in the best possible way.

This is just the beginning.

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

Is Beth just always active and like projected or can she turn off the projector and just be a voice inside Kaita's head? Could she go a step further and just not even exist in the physical world and be gooberin around in Kaita's OS or something? Could she villain arc and just possess her?

I have a problem btw

unfortunately you asked a simple question so now you get the needlessly complicated answer

Kaita's artificial brain is designed in such a fashion that'd be hard for Beth to just hack like a normal computer. Her frontal lobe works on artificial neurons that create thoughts, behaviors, and impulses that are then regulated by another component that works like the brain stem and cerebellum. Effectively, every part of her could technically work as a prosthetic version of its organic counterpart, including the brain, so you'd need to know how to "hack" human impulses in order to even begin to say, overwrite who she is.

However, the wolf also has a more mundane smartphone chip installed on her that her brain can directly use at the speed of thought that allows her to interface with other devices, and is easy to replace or upgrade without messing with the brain itself. Think like a simple computer with linux or a stripped down Android OS that your brain is hooked up to that it can mess with in any way it wants, to make calls or save memes or something, while the phone can't do anything to the brain besides sending signals to the optic and audio feeds.

Beth likewise is an AI designed to only exist physically as a chip on her own phone. This phone is installed on Kaita in a similar fashion to the wolf's own on-board smartphone, through which Kaita can talk privately to Beth and see the AI do stupid shit on her HUD. Like, a more bitchy Cortana. Beth doesn't like wasting power or always being seen, so she usually only peeks out when she feels like it in the first place. She very often is just a voice or, if she's feeling nonverbal, a series of dialogue boxes Kaita sees as notifications from her phone's OS.

In terms of possession, there's technically a workaround; her hardlight body can produce electrical signals, and if she was really desperate and persistent could sort of jam her projected form onto Kaita's brain stem that way, but it'd be very very taxing to pull off unless Kaita for some reason allows Beth to do it, usually only as an agreed upon emergency measure if the wolf is incapacitated/deeply unconscious.

The picture above basically only happens because Kaita trusts Beth not to do something stupid. She's probably a bit mentally tired from something, and is letting Beth take control so she can "rest" a little. It only takes a little bit of mental effort on Kaita's part to eject Beth, but Beth lacks a physical body and sometimes Kaita feels a bit bad for the AI, so she lets her have some fun if it also means getting someone else to do a few menial tasks for her for once.

EDIT: forgot to mention; had koboldfactory's drawing of Beth in mind for drawing this one. Beth's design can often be asymmetrical and experimental but I really liked the mix of the sleeved and sleeveless look she came up with

[girlwiththoughts13]

Where there's a Will

Daemon Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Incest/ P in V /infidelity/ Age-gap

Word count: 1k

~~~~~

The Iron Throne. It was coveted by all, from the lowliest knights to the highest born lords. Who sat down on the chair of swords was more than ruler. They were a protector, and to protect you must be strong. The late King Viserys was not strong in any sense of the word. He allowed leeches to squeeze through the cracks in his home and feed off of his blood and weakening reign. Allowed them to rip the Targaryen heritage and culture to install the gods of common men; symbols and emblems that would shame Aegon the Conquerer.

Though for all his treasonous faults there was a level of respect that had to be given to Otto Hightower for seizing every opportunity to propel his house forward. Whoring out his only daughter to the aged King in the interest of ruling behind a figurehead child of his own blood.

It was the perfect scheme, until Viserys named his daughter Rhaenrya as rightful heir of the 7 Kingdoms, a claim he steadfastly upheld even after the birth of male heirs.

How marvelous you'd believed it would be. Rhaenrya would have struck down structures that were In place to clip women's wings. Would have shown mercy when deserved and serve justice when necessary. The small folk would rejoice at her Queenship. She would intimidate the highlords of Westeros and rebellion would not be a known word. In your mind this was the Queen your lovely mother would be.

The Greens usurpation of the throne crumbled that dream. The hope of the great leader extinguished before your eyes. You watched for days as your mother reverted into someone you did not know. Frail and scared. It stirred something within you, that had not been there before. Took root deep within and fed off of your darkest desires. One that gave the promise of eternal glory.

The loss of a child could not be easy for certain. You yourself had not felt the grief you should have. No stirring of sadness or longing in your gut for your little brother. Not like Jace. It scared you as well as excited you. There was no weakness to be found and the prospect of an indestructible mind and heart was eagerly accepted by you. Aemond Targaryen's crime should have been answered swiftly and without mercy, alas all your mother could do was cry, losing herself to anguish. Get up! You wished to say, Focus!

Now was the time to strike show the false King and his court what true dragons were made of, fire and blood.

Control on your own treacherous thoughts were slipping, and left only the question, Could I be Queen of the 7 Kingdoms?

You would be one day anyway, as the firstborn, as the true born daughter of Laenor. What's the difference between then and now?

Your mother would have to die however, and you couldn't do that.

At least not alone.

Daemon was easy to convince, soul and heart already corrupt. You came to him like a dream unruly sliver hair and donned in a sheer iridescent nightgown. Whispers of greatness flowed from your pouty lips right into his ear. Face full of innocence and intention anything but.

You continued to spew your sweet poison as you rode him on the seat by the fire, the flames heating your already blazing skin.

He reached his peak with the thought of him as King with you by his side swollen with his babe. A conquerer in his own right.

Like your grandsire, you enjoyed sculpting the key parts of the realm, the only thing you shared with the frail man. Your most recent replica being the throne room. It's here in the safety of your chambers Daemon finds you fiddling with the chair you shall take soon.

He comes to stand behind you, his hands smoothing up the expanse of your arms pulling your back flush to his chest. Seasoned warrior that he is, his body is hard and unmoving compared to your soft pliant one, a perfect foot solider he will be.

Daemon nuzzles his head into your neck inhaling deeply "I have missed you". His time at Harrenhal left him craving your most willingly body. You're aware he views this situation much differently. Possibly believes that he has manipulated you, lead you down a dark path. A pure swan tainted so irreversibly. Not at all the still waiting dragon that you are. Ready to sink your teeth into his skin and drain him for all he's worth. You know he loves you or as close to love as he can feel. Do you return that sentiment is another issue because, of course not, he's your mother's husband, your step-father and uncle. You're strategic not vindictive.

Only your mother felt the need to be above Daemon and try her hand at triumph without him. He was a fool with a sword but that sword in his particular hand could bring down mountains. You needed him, for now. With your gentle guiding you had him believe your wants and ideas were his own.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. "No more than me" you sigh and lift your chin to claim his lips with your own. His hands tighten around you, trailing all around your body stopping here and there to grope you. Giving a pinch to your breast, a clutch around your neck. He pulls way to place his hand at the middle of your back giving a shove forward, you go easily. He flattens you over the table. He brings his hand from your back down to where the hem of your nightgown ends meets your exposed thigh. he bunches the material to your hips. Letting out a shudder at your lack of clothing underneath.

You hear from behind you the unlacing of his trousers, you keep your eyes trained on the figures ahead. The column, the banners, the throne. So small they could fit in the palm of your hand, but the longer you stare willing it to come to fruition the more the scene is happening before you. Your being enthroned and the highlords and ladies kneel before you, the small folk shout your name from outside the castle walls, you hardly feel the push in of Daemons cock in your own walls. You hear him grunt and groan behind you, rutting inside you wildly like a brute or the animal he is. He doesn't notice your lack of sounds to lost in his own pleasure, Daemons view of your backside hides your lack of lustful expression replaced with one of resolution one of assurance.

Your body is jostled up and down, Daemon's hand finds its way into your hair before trailing down to the back of your neck keeping you there while your eyes never falter from your soon to be rightful place.

The Iron Throne.

[becca-e-barnes]

The Study

Not only is this the start of my 'Moving In' series, I'm also calling it my birthday piece! I turn 24 on Tuesday and I'm trying hard not to think about the fact I'm overdue a quarter-life crisis.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K (oops)

Warnings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky, sub! reader, spanking, use of a vibrator, forced orgasms, kinda Dom vibes but totally consensual, degradation, safe word system but safe word not used, pet names

Summary: Bucky spends the weekend at your new house and you take him on a tour.

Minors, do not interact

Turning the key in the front door still feels odd. One of the very first changes you made to the house was installing a new locking mechanism on both doors and it hasn't had a chance to stiffen up yet.

The smell of paint is starting to dissipate but it hits you hardest when you open the front door. The hallway was one of the last areas of the house to be redecorated so the smell seems to be most noticeable right at the door.

"Damn, this place is deceptive." Bucky's remark makes you smile to yourself while you hang your jacket up. "It's a whole lot bigger on the inside than I thought."

"It surprised me too. All of the rooms are a nice size."

The house had ticked so many boxes for you. More than two bedrooms in a quiet development, a low maintenance garden, off road parking, a downstairs bathroom and the whole house has plenty of potential. The plan isn't to live here forever, after all. It should be easy enough for you to sell when you decide to move on.

You flick a few lights on in the hallway and toss your keys into the bowl on the hall table before you turn your attention back to Bucky standing in your living room. Despite the fact you hadn't removed your own shoes, he's taken his off, leaving them neatly at the doorway of the living room beside his travel bag.

He's respectful of your space; he always has been but it's nice to just have him in your space. It's nice to have him be part of it.

He walks slowly around the little living room, looking at the few ornaments and picture frames you'd collected. "That's cute." He's looking at a picture of you and your best friend, sitting on the floor of your old kitchen, laughing yourselves to tears over the fact your Christmas tree was three inches tall and cut out from the back of a cereal box. The photo brings a smile to your face every time you see it.

"Are you hungry? You've had a long day." You move over behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his clothes while he looks at your pictures on the fireplace. He's had to travel for a few hours just to get here so you imagine he's bound to want something.

"I'm okay for now." You nod at his response, taking in the fact he's actually standing in your home.

The time you have with him is limited. That's how this works but for just less than two days, he's yours. After that, he'll go back home so you've learned to make the most of the time you have with him.

"Help yourself to whatever you like. Kitchen is down the hall." You don't even really want to move but you can't stand like this forever.

He turns in your arms so he's facing you and captures your lips in his. It's a soft, slow, gentle kiss; the kind you've been dreaming of since you last saw him. You need him to feel exactly how much you've missed him without having to tell him.

The kiss lasts for minutes, far beyond its natural end but neither of you care.

After what feels like forever, your lips part but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you determined not to pull away.

"I still haven't gotten the grand tour." He's got the most beautiful eyes and they're locked on yours to the point that you'd almost forgotten he's never been here before. "But I want to start in your favourite room."

"Well, the study is my favourite. I converted one of the bedrooms into an office space."

"Show me."

You don't protest. Instead you head out of the living room and up the stairs to the furthest end of the hallway, with Bucky following closely behind you.

"These all used to be built-in storage units around a headboard for a bed. I took all the doors off the cabinets and made it into shelving." You'd turned the room into a space that you love. The walls are painted a light shade of cream with houseplants lined up between books on the shelves. Instead of storage around a headboard, you now have book shelves, arching around your desk. The other side of the room has a sofa that converts into a bed for extra guests and there's a beanbag in the corner by the window to read on.

"I see why it's your favourite. Odd mix of books here though." Bucky's eyes flick over the titles, ranging from your collection of political figures' autobiographies, the 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief' trilogy, the selection of books providing commentary on the criminal justice system and a good few classics.

"It is. But I like this room. It'll be cosy in winter once I get some fairy lights and nice and bright in summer. Somewhere to unwind." You're thinking out loud as you reach up to close the window and that's when you feel Bucky step behind you.

"I think we should celebrate." Bucky’s voice is low, his lips trailing up the side of your neck, heading towards the spot just behind your ear that he's always loved to kiss.

"I think..." He stops briefly on his path, taking a second to inhale deeply, determined to slow down. "I think we should make love in every room of your new house this weekend."

Fuck.

"Are you sure you're up for that? Because I can really stretch it out. I'm not sure how we're going to make it work in the pantry or the downstairs bathroom but I'm happy to try."

"Your 'pantry' is a cupboard." Bucky's breath is hot on your neck, and you feel his lips have curled into a smile.

"I know. You promised every room though." You can't help but tease him, although you're half serious. It's not your fault that you're keen. Not when he's kissing down your neck like that and holding your waist so your back is flush against him.

"You're a handful." You feel his fingertips graze the bare skin of your waist and you remember how nice it is to just be touched the way he touches you.

"I might be a handful but I can promise if I have my way, after you leave here on Sunday, you won't even be able to think about cumming again until Thursday at the very earliest."

"Jesus, that's one hell of a promise." He turns you around to face him and you notice his eyes are damn near twinkling with excitement.

You've got all weekend together; there's no need to rush but you can't help the overwhelming need to feel him sliding into you. That's when you feel closest to him and it's the closeness you're craving more than anything.

Your hand cups the side of his face, your thumb tracing across his freshly shaved jawline and you allow yourselves a second to just be together.

He smells familiar. The heat of his body against yours makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I want to start with you though. I brought you a little something." He kisses your lips gently and smooths a hand down over your hair before he retreats downstairs to the bag that he'd brought a few changes of clothes in.

He returns with a small cardboard box with the tape on one end already cut.

"I didn't have time to wrap it. It arrived last minute." You're so busy trying to get into the box that you hadn't even noticed.

Inside the box are a few instruction manuals, a thin white cord and a black satin pouch. Inside the pouch is a neon pink toy that's thicker at each end, narrow in the middle and nicely curved.

"I've already charged it and paired it to my phone. This end slips inside you." He points to the thicker end, studying your face to make sure you're okay with this.

And why wouldn't you be? This is pretty damn close to a dream come true.

"Remember what you said last time I saw you? You wanted me to spank you. Maybe we should take it a little further." He's always been hesitant to do anything that would hurt you and that fact is the very reason you want him to. You know how much he wants to protect you and knowing he cares about you has you convinced that he's the right person to explore this with.

"Please." You whisper, beyond excited at the thought of getting everything you've begged him for. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking about you bent over this desk with this inside you and we'll start off with a couple of light taps to that pretty ass." He presses the button on the narrow part of the toy and it give a short buzz, coming to life in his hands.

Fuck, you're into this man. You're into his hesitation just as much as you're into his willingness to try something new.

"Traffic light safe word system. 'Red' and I'll stop, 'amber' and I'll give you a break, 'green' to keep going." He wants to be fully sure you know you're in control here, not that you ever had any doubt.

You nod and stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him, this time with as much passion as you can manage. Your hands run through his hair while his trail over your body, your tongue flicking gently against his.

Just being around this man makes you wet, not that you'd ever admit that to him. Even the thought of him has you throbbing with arousal so now that he's here in front of you, your whole body feels like it's buzzing.

He touches you like he can't get enough. He can't get you close enough and it's beyond thrilling to be the subject of his need.

It's almost embarrassing that you get yourself worked up so easily but from the hungry look in his eyes when you undo the button of your jeans, he doesn't seem to mind.

You step out of your jeans and panties and Bucky helps you out of your top and bra, leaving you naked in your study.

"Look at you." Bucky sounds like he's almost in awe, no matter how many times he's seen you naked.

He kisses you again, matching the same passion he'd had earlier, trailing his hands over your soft, warm skin until his fingers are nestled between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His fingertips trail between the folds of your sex, gathering the wetness he's responsible for. "Good girls don't get this wet at the thought of being spanked. You know that, don't you?"

You're almost too turned on to even respond to him. "Bend over. I want to see how well you take your toy."

You do as you're told, bending over your desk while Bucky drops to his knees behind you to slip the toy inside you. You feel him trail the thicker end of the toy against your slick cunt, gathering enough wetness to let it slip inside you comfortably.

Within a minute, the toy comes to life inside you and there's no way to stifle the moan that catches in your throat.

Not only is the internal part vibrating at a low, delightful buzz, the other end is pressed right to your clit and is stimulating it at the same strength.

"Did I say you could make a sound?" Bucky quizzes, sounding harsher than ever and when he gets no response, his hand comes down on your ass with so much force that it makes you yelp.

It was a hell of a spank and you can feel heat blooming under the skin of your left cheek, quickly followed by another spank to the right.

"For the record, you can make as much noise as you need to. But only because I've told you that you can. You see the difference?"

You force yourself not to nod and it has the effect you were hoping for. Two more harsh, painful spanks are delivered, one to each cheek, the same as before.

You don't know if you imagined it but the toy inside you feels stronger. You can't be sure if you're just focusing on the pleasure over the pain or if Bucky really has turned it up.

"Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" He needs to know you're enjoying this because a little part of him is surprised at just how much he's into it. He gets to control both your pleasure and your pain because you want him to and the trust alone is enough to get him off.

"Feels amazing, fuck. Making such a mess." Stringing sentences together isn't easy but you swear you're about to cum already. Your nipples rub delightfully against the wooden desk and you swear every sensation is heightened.

"I wish you could see the mess you're making. Looks fucking delicious." He turns the toy up ever so slightly but that's enough to send you spiralling, gripping the edge of the desk as pleasure ripples through your entire body.

You can do nothing but sob, cumming relentlessly because he's refused to turn the toy down. Even after you're done, he keeps it at the same intensity, moving on like nothing happened.

"You say the sluttiest things. That promise of yours to totally drain me. Who says shit like that? So fucking filthy."

"I mean it. I want every drop of cum you can give me. And then more." You know saying something like that will earn you another spank and it does.

"You're not just acting like a slut. You are a slut. You spend your life hiding it from everyone else but you can't hide it from me." A shiver runs down your spine. You almost feel like you've been caught. Like he's figured you out and now you have nothing left to hide. "Say it."

It's a clear instruction but saying it makes it real.

Your hesitation earns you another sharp spank, heat prickling both your face and your ass at the same time.

"Don't make me tell you twice." For someone hesitant to slip into a dominant role, he's absolutely nailing it.

"I'm your slut." Your voice is less steady than you would've hoped but the words at clear at the very least.

"My slut?" He almost sounds like he can't believe what he heard.

"Yours. Your slut." You repeat, wishing you could see his face.

"Oh sweetheart, that's cute." He means it too. He turns the toy up as a reward and even though it's only at half its full strength, you can't help but cum again, pleading your way through another blinding orgasm.

"Such a good girl for me. That's it. Cum nice and hard. Give that slutty little pussy what it needs." He lands one more harsh spank on your ass and you swear it only makes you cum harder, to the point that your legs are shaking.

But all of a sudden, the sensation stops completely.

"B-Bucky?" You ask, turning around to look at him, wondering if something went wrong.

"Don't want to wear you out, sweetheart. I think that'll do for now." You agree that it's probably a good place to stop and you have no problem taking the toy out for a while.

He pulls you in close, resting your head on his chest, letting you catch your breath while he holds you and kisses your forehead.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is soft, hoping that you'll tell him the truth.

"No. It was perfect." You smile, capturing his lips in yours, hoping to relieve some of his fear. You're almost giddy with excitment. It truly was everything you needed and you fully intend to thank him for it before the weekend is over.

"Good. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would." He's back to the gentle, tender touches that you're so used to from him and it's a blessing that he can flick so effortlessly between both personas.

"How about we order in and stick a movie on?" He suggests, kissing the tip of your nose. "Go put on something comfortable. I'll find a takeout."

[newobsessionweekly]

Things take time

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Dreams series

Part 1

Part 2

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

Fandom: 911

Summary: You and Buck try for a baby, but life is not always fair and easy.

Angst | Fluff

A/N: I know, I KNOW it's been ages since part 1, but hey, i'm back! Hope u enjoy it and stay put for the next parts. Maybe life isn't really fair and easy! Thank you for your support and kindness. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love ✨

@krokietino i thought maybe you'll like the second part of what u requested ❤️

Requested: yes

Words: 2.2k

Requests currently closed!

GIF not mine, credits to the owner!

In the hushed quiet of your home, you and Buck found yourselves enveloped in the soft glow of morning. Buck was quietly pulling up his uniform, taking a few sips of his coffee. You on the other hand had a long morning today, lingering a bit longer in your pijama.

You watched your fiancé with a dump smile and a heavy heart as he buckled his shoes, preparing for a new day as a firefighter. Every shift you couldn't help but feel the whole world's pressure on your shoulders, worrying a little too much about his safety, despite he came home safe and sound every time.

As you sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers were trembling as you held yet another negative test in your hands, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. For months, you've been trying for a baby, thinking "how hard it must be", your hearts brimming with hope with each pregnancy test, only to be met with disappointment time and time again.

Buck's expression etched with concern, wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace, trying to give you a bit of his hope, his heart aching at the sight of your crestfallen face.

"I'm sorry, babe," you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I thought... I thought this might be it."

Buck's heart twisted with love as he gently wiped away your tears, his own emotions swirling with a mixture of frustration and longing. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "We'll keep trying."

As much as he wanted a family with you, in this moment if possible, he knew this things take time. You can't rush life, every little thing has its own moment. He could understand your frustration, motherhood is something almost every woman look forward and being this close to fulfil your dream, it's painful to see weeks turn into months, each day holding a negative pregnancy test between your fingers.

"Be safe out there and don't be a stranger!" you shouted after Buck placed the sweetest kisses all over your face and told you how much he loved you over and over before leaving for work that morning.

Buck tried to man up himself and wash away negative thoughts. He told himself it's not something he can control, it's out of your hands and there's nothing more you can do. Or at least he's trying to do that.

You, on the other hand, can't help but feel like you're letting Buck down. You know how much he wants a family with you, something he can feel like he belongs to, an anchor to keep him floating at the surface in this chaos.

For yourself, bringing a life in this world is a step in your relationship with Buck that seems about right and it's the perfect time to meet your dreams come true. Only that your dreams are not in a hurry to take part of this conversation just yet.

It's been six months since that last barbecue at Bobby and Athena's house, months you've spent daydreaming of a small version of Buck playing around, filling your silent home with laughter, irradiating joy and love, lightning your lives.

Days passed the same: work, home, Buck and repeat. Monotony installing into your bones and mind, you started to lose hope little by little with every negative test you threw away every morning. Your characteristic smile started to be missed by your family and friends, even people from work started questioning you every shift.

You ok, hun?

Something happened?

You know, if you need to talk...

The disappointment was so strong planted in yourself that one morning you didn't even notice the glow you irradiated and the small smile being brought back to your lips. You somehow felt the world differently, you didn't even realise you stepped out of monotony. Instead of having lunch break at your workplace, your footsteps surprised you in front of the fire station, unknowingly missing Buck and the joy of the 118.

"Y/N!" everyone cheered happily at the sight of you, rushing down the stairs to greet you and hug you. It's been months since your last lunch at the station and since you last saw your friends.

Bobby took your purse as you and Hen walked to the dining area, the smile growing beautifully as you were catching up with everyone's lives. You were so focused on one thing that could change your life that you forgot how happy you were before. You thought you needed that change to be happening as soon as possible, thinking it will make you happy and fulfilled, that you missed the part where your life was perfect as it was.

"Hey stranger!" Eddie greeted you before you could take a sit at the table, giving you a big, tight hug. "It's so nice to have you around! We missed you!"

"Ah, you know, busy life!" you tried to laugh the world's weight off of your shoulders, hugging Eddie back.

As the lunch unfolded without any surprises, sitting right next to Buck at the table, holding his hand, laughing from the bottom of your heart at the last incidents Chim and Hen detailed, you could feel the hope installing in your bones again.

"Well isn't that a beautiful face I didn't have the pleasure to see at this table for a long time now!" Athena made her way up the stairs, greeting you. "Nice to see you, child!"

Since you left home, Athena and Bobby were the closest thing to the parental figures you missed in the last years. You greeted her with the biggest smile, and after you all finished the delicious lunch Bobby had made, you checked the time. You still had a half an hour before you needed to be back for work.

You enjoyed your time spent with Buck and your friends at the station before the alarm started to replace your laughter. You kissed your fiancé goodbye, reminding him to be safe.

As you gathered your things, ready to return to your work place, Athena placed a hand on your shoulder "You ready? Imma give you a ride."

As you quietly sat in the police car, listening to the dispatch calling out for different situations, assigning cars, Athena broke the silence.

"I can see that look in your eyes. You're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, aren't you?"

"Oh-uh, I just—" you stopped, weighting the words before giving life to your thoughts. "I feel like I'm letting Buck down."

Those words surprised you too, as you didn't realised you really meant that before it came out of your mouth. Your voice barely above a whisper, you continued "He wants this so badly, and I can't give it to him. I don't know what to do."

Athena's hand found yours, a gesture of solidarity amidst the turmoil of your emotions. "You're not letting him down, honey," she reassured, her voice filled with unwavering conviction. "Sometimes, these things take time. But you're not alone in this. There are specialists who can help, if you're willing to take that step."

Few days passed, the untouched pregnancy tests surprising both you and Buck. "I thought maybe worrying less and going with the flow might help." you giggled, as you and Buck cuddled a bit more before getting the day started. It wasn't necessarily a lie, not a bad one at least.

It felt nice, not having to worry about every single thing in your life for a few days, but as Athena's words echoed in your mind, you couldn't help it.

You found yourself standing outside the office of a specialist, your heart fluttering with a mixture of hope and trepidation. But as you stepped inside and faced the prospect of yet another round of tests and examinations, a glimmer of hope flickered within your soul. You had to make sure nothing is wrong. If the specialist would tell you everything is fine, that there's nothing you should worry about, then indeed you'd be ready to worry less and leave the life do the things at its own pace.

Weeks passed as usual, happier and tender than before. Each night Buck loved you more and more, some more intense, showering you with his sincere passion and affection, some gentle and romantic. Your love for each other grew stronger than ever and you were at the point where you didn't even think you could love Buck more.

But today felt different. It was something inside that guided you to that specific bathroom drawer you didn't open for weeks, trying to keep under control the obsession you've developed. Today you felt the need to open it.

In the quiet stillness of the morning, as the first light of dawn cast its golden rays upon your home, you found yourself clutching a pregnancy test in trembling hands once more. As the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, your heart pounded in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

Something felt different, you couldn't explain it. As the two pink lines appeared in a silent testament to your hopes and dreams, a wave of overwhelming joy washed over you, tears streaming down your cheeks, tears filled with happiness, hope, and the purest form of love.

Buck noticed something has changed lately, as if the very air was charged with an electric energy. He put it on the fact that you finally got the power to turn off the worrying shadows that's been darkening your mind this past few months.

You checked your phone, rereading Buck's message over and over again, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Doctor confirmed your pregnancy and today is the day. You knew Buck will be so excited to hear the news but... maybe, just maybe, you thought after all this months of trying, he would've changed his mind.

Sabotaging yourself with this kind of thoughts, your body shuddered at the sound of your fiancé's voice.

"It was a stupid, boring day!" Buck placed his bag on the floor with frustration. Boring is something Buck hates more than anything. He likes action, fire, running around like crazy from one call to another. He might've changed over time, but deep down he's still the reckless boy that once opened for the first time the station's doors.

"Well hello my favourite man! My fearless firefighter. My love. My world." you giggled as you kissed him, placing your lips on his skin after every word.

"Stop lying to me." he laughed, hugging you so tight, spinning around with you on his arms. Secretly he thanked the heavens for that boring day, keeping him safe, in one piece so that he could come back home to you. The most beautiful and precious woman in his life. "What smells so good?"

"Dinner. Got off early today and thought maybe I should do something special. Your favourite." you lied to him again, but it was for his own good. Today was your doctor's appointment so you took the day off.

"Oh, I missed your dinners!" he smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Go wash your hands and you can tell me how much you love me after!" you joke, motioning Buck to the bathroom.

As you arranged the table, serving Buck with his favourite meal, you laughed at his frustration with the stupid kids pulling pranks and getting stuck in weird places.

"How was your day?" your fiancé asked, mouth full of the magic food, as he couldn't help but name it every time.

"Oh, you know. Same thing every day, nothing special there." you caressed his hand. "That reminds me..." you left the words hanging in the air as you rushed to your bedroom, grabbing a box. A mischievous glint in your eye and a mysterious package cradled in your arms. Buck's curiosity piqued, he watched with bated breath as you approached, your smile radiant and infectious.You placed it next to Buck, excitedly waiting for him to open it.

"What's this?" he asked, whipping his hands. You didn't respond, as if you didn't hear a word he said.

His fingers trembling as he unwrapped it with care. And then, as the contents were revealed, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in disbelief. Nestled within the confines of the package was a uniform, its tiny size a stark contrast to the enormity of the moment it represented. But it was the words emblazoned upon the fabric that stole Buck's breath away: "Daddy's Little Firefighter."

Tears welled in Buck's eyes as he looked up at you, his heart overflowing with emotion. "Are you... Are we...?" he stammered, his voice choked with emotion.

In that moment, beneath the canopy of stars, amidst the quiet stillness of the night, your hearts were soaring with the promise of a future filled with love and laughter.

You nodded, your eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. "Yeah, Buck," you whispered, "You're going to be a dad!" your voice trembling with emotion. "We're going to be parents."

[heauxvibez]

Good Girl..

Warning: A sprinkle of smut (18+)

Lying sprawled on the bed, her body draped over the soft cotton sheets, Yasmine nestled into the comfort of his oversized t-shirt. A subtle smile played on her lips as her iPhone buzzed in her hands, each vibration sending a ripple of excitement through her. It felt as if Joe's presence was right there with her, despite the miles that separated them.

Being on the road meant constant communication between them, whether through texts, Facetime, or phone calls. Though she missed him dearly, she appreciated the space that his road trips afforded them. She believes that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and every time they reunited, they cherished every moment together, knowing they'd soon have to part again.

Joe: So, what's on the agenda for tonight?

Yasmine: Hmm, not entirely sure yet. Probably just gonna whip up some popcorn, binge-watch a few episodes of Martin, and call it a night.

Joe: Sounds like a plan. Wish I could be there. As much as I appreciate the road, being home with you sounds way better. I miss you 😞

A blush crept across Yasmine's cheeks at Joe's heartfelt message. It never failed to amaze her how he could evoke such tender emotions with just a few words, even from a distance.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she typed out her response.

Yasmine: Pshh, quit playing Mr. Reigns. Traveling across the country sounds way more exciting than popcorn and tv 😒

Joe: Trust me, being at home with you, feeling your warmth, and hearing your laughter is all I crave right now.

Yasmine's heart fluttered at his words, her pulse quickening with every beat.

Joe: And if I were home, I'd have you in my arms..making you scream my name all night long...

Her breath hitched as she read Joe's message, her imagination running wild with the vivid imagery he painted.

Joe: I can't wait to have you all to myself again, baby girl. Just the thought of you drives me crazy.

Her face burned hotter. She swallowed hard, watching three dots appear on the screen, indicating he was typing again. The dots vanished, replaced by another message. She wasn't prepared for the words that lit up the screen.

God, you have no idea how badly I want you.

She shifted, rubbing her thighs together as she continued to read his message.

I swear, when I get home, I'm tying you to the bed, and you'll cum so many times you'll lose count, baby girl. I promise.

She immediately flipped her phone face down, locking it.

Believe it or not, she had never received such a text from Joe before, so she was taken aback when she read it. It certainly had her worked up, and those words were enough to have her swooning.

It had been ages since they'd been intimate. With his focus on work, there was little time for sex, and she found it cruel of him to send a text like that given their circumstances.

Thoughts of him being there with her, touching her, flooded her mind. It didn't take long before she found herself on her back. With just his t-shirt on, it was easy access for her to slip her hands into her panties. This was the only way she could find pleasure right now, so why not indulge?

Her phone vibrated not once, but twice, and she groaned in frustration as she read the texts.

Don't you dare touch yourself, baby girl. You better wait until I get home.

Buzz

I will tease you until you're in tears. I won't let you cum for hours.

Three more dots appeared as she whimpered at the text.

And don't forget, I still have those cameras installed, so don't test me.

Her hand moved away from where she desired to be touched the most. She needed release, desperately. She groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed and throwing her head back on the pillow.

Her phone vibrated one last time. Buzz.

Good girl.

--------

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

[604to647]

Third Time's the Charm

5.3K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!Reader

Summary: After two failed attempts, Tim finally takes you on a first date.

Warnings: Mostly fluffy with a wee sprinkle of angst/anxiety/insecurity (on Tim's part), soft!Tim, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, one [1] baby, one [1] sweetheart), drinking/wine, kissing, allusion to smut.

A/N: Another instalment of The Rockford Portfolio! As always, these one-shots can be read as standalones, but if you're curious, this one takes place right after Marine Attraction (and I guess almost a year before Husband Material?) I hope you enjoy as we continue to jump around on the timeline of this couple's relationship!

Photography inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 📸 Series Masterlist

Detective Tim Rockford doesn’t get nervous.  Not after more than two decades on the force, facing down dangerous felons and seeing the seedier side of life in LA.  In his line of work the difference between nervousness and nerves of steel was often a bullet.  Detective Tim Rockford doesn’t get nervous. 

So understandably, it took him a moment or two to recognize the feeling vibrating throughout his body, but undoubtedly, it’s nervousness.  Big, bad Detective Tim Rockford is nervous for your first date.

It’s not even regular first date jitters, where one is unsure if the spark will be there or if the evening will be full of awkward pauses; you and Tim have talked on the phone or texted everyday since the Grandma Ursula verdict and the conversation is always easy flowing.  He finds you to be smart, funny and oh so very sweet – he’s positive that chemistry won’t be a problem with you. 

The fact that this date has been over half a year in the making isn’t even what worries him.  He might be concerned about the propensity of reality to rarely live up to expectations after a prolonged build up, if it wasn’t for the fact that everything about you that he’s gotten to know so far, has surpassed the you he’s been imagining in his mind for the last seven months.  Fantasy has nothing on real world you, of that much Tim is sure.

No.  Tim’s nervous because he’s not even sure you want to go on this first date with him anymore.  Not when this is actually the third attempt at a first date, with him having cancelled on you twice already.

The first time, he had caught you right as you stepped out the front door of your building, technically before you left for the restaurant but not until after you had spent an inordinate amount of time fussing over your outfit, hair, make-up and internalizing your friends’ pep talks (Tim didn’t know about this last part).  The beat cops had brought in a perp late in the afternoon on some misdemeanor, who upon offered a deal to avoid a third strike conviction, had started spilling information about everyone under the sun.  When the detective in the interrogation room heard the names of several people connected to Mr. Pie, she had immediately called upstairs to Tim who didn’t have a choice but to ask you if the two of you could postpone.

The second time, the two of you actually made it to the restaurant.  You were sipping on your pre-dinner drinks while perusing the menu when the call came in from the precinct that the Chief of Detectives, under fire from the commissioner, was at the precinct and had called everyone involved in the Pie case in.  No explanation or details.  Or exceptions.

You had been more than understanding.  According to Tim, shortly after the closing of the Grandma Ursula case, the long hard work of detangling and dismantling Mr. Pie’s large criminal network had begun, and to the frustration of many (or so it would seem), even several months later, the police had made little headway.  You assured Tim there was no need for his fervent apologies and refused his offer to pay for your dinner when you said you were happy to stay and have a meal by yourself. 

Now, a full month after the reading of the Grandma Ursula verdict, Tim is finally taking you on a first date (again).  He chooses a different restaurant this time, determined to erase any memory of his first two disastrous attempts to take you out, hoping you won’t hold the outcome of your first two first dates against him - though he would honestly understand if you did.  Tonight has to go perfectly.

Turns out Tim had nothing to worry about.  You meet him at the new restaurant looking radiant and in a perfectly good mood – no hint of snark about his two previous (failed) attempts to take you out; he should have known – you’re too good natured and frank for that type of passive aggressive behaviour.  In fact, you seem positively giddy – complimenting him on his restaurant choice and assuring him sincerely how much you’ve been looking forward to this.  Your sweet disposition puts him at ease faster than the whiskey he orders when you’re finally seated.

Tim can’t take his eyes off of you; it’s not just that you look beautiful tonight, because you do – hair and make-up soft but sultry and an outfit chosen (for him? He can only dream) to flatter your alluring figure, hugging your curves in all the right places.  No, it’s not just that.  It’s the brightness and charm you exude in even the tiniest things you do – from the way your eyes twinkle when they dance over the menu, and the musical lilt of your voice as you cheerfully ponder the myriad of options you’re interested in trying, to the way your fingers curve around the stem of your prosecco glass when you give it a little swirl before bringing it up to your perfectly plush lips.  You’re just so effortlessly graceful and at ease, quiet confidence emanating from your very being.  Tim thinks he could get drunk off of just being near you.

And that isn’t even the best part about being with you.  Tim finds it so easy to relax around you, both of you taking natural turns carrying the conversation that never stops flowing – you talk about everything: hobbies, work, what you love about the city, what you hate about the city, the latest NY Times Connections puzzle, and what feels like everything in between. 

Turns out you know a little (lot) about wine (something about a college wine tasting course that you flunked and you’ve been trying to redeem yourself ever since) – Tim sinks back comfortably in his chair and listens to you talk about tannins and noses and oak barrels like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever heard, gladly and with genuine curiosity handing you the wine menu to pick the bottle for the evening.  He watches with amusement as you cross reference yours and his menu selections with the wine listings, brow furrowing in adorable concentration as you take your charge seriously.  He likes this about you – that you always seem to care and take care.  When the Barolo you choose is uncorked and poured, Tim finds it washes over his tongue wonderfully.  You chatter on about how it’s a wine that’s bright and firm in its acidity, but known for a subtle complexity despite its lightness in body, all while floating delicate floral notes.  Tim smiles to himself and wonders if anyone’s ever studied the correlation between wine characteristics and the people that choose them; he may very well be indulging in a glass of you.  Your enthusiasm catching, he thinks you might turn him into a wine guy just yet.

Are you talking too much?  You’re talking so much.  You can’t help it; not only does the conversation flow so easily with Tim, but you’re just so darn nervous to finally be going out with him.  You had thought it terrible luck that your first two tries at a first date had to be cancelled and in truth, worried that Tim might not think a third try to be worth it.  After all, it had been seven long months of no contact while the Grandma Ursula case finished up – perhaps, there wasn’t enough interest or incentive for him to try and force something that didn’t seem to be happening quite as easily as it should. 

But maybe what they say is true and the third time really is the charm.  You’re sitting across from one of the handsomest, smartest men you’ve ever met and having the most wonderful time.  Tim’s company is beyond pleasant; he’s far more interesting and charismatic than you have been imaging for all these months.  And attractive, sigh.  Not only does he look sharp and striking in his perfectly fitting suit, but his dreamy eyes light up whenever he’s listening to you and his velvety baritone voice makes everything he says sound practically hypnotic.  It takes everything you have not to drool and gawk at the way his black rimmed glasses sit on his strong nose and frame his perfect face.  So you talk and talk and talk, hoping you’re not making a fool of yourself.

The Barolo pairs perfectly with the mouthwatering food served by the restaurant; when the waiter brings your plates, you amuse Tim when you ask if he would mind if you take some photos.  He amuses you right back when he asks why you don’t use the flash since the restaurant is so dimly lit – he settles in, grinning at you like a love sick fool as you espouse the evil of using flash photography in restaurants.  Tim thinks he could listen to you talk about anything at length, but when you go on about your newly reignited passion for photography, the way your face lights up with pure joy cements it as his favourite topic of yours.  It reminds him of the first he met you.

Near the end of your meal, Tim’s about to reminisce about how the two you met at the aquarium when his eyes are drawn to a figure crossing the restaurant dining room; he forgets what he was about to say and just stares at the man who goes outside to take a phone call, hissing as the door closes, “Shit. Buchanan.”

“What’s a Buchanan?” you had watched Tim’s expression change, but instinctively felt that you shouldn’t turn your head to see who or what he was looking at.

Looking back at you, Tim feels a tinge of regret that he’s about to let work intrude on your time together once again, “Delroy Buchanan.  He’s one of Mr. Pie’s top lieutenants, but he’s rarely even seen.  We’ve been trying to track him for ages, but he’s always managed to give any tail the slip – that is if we can even find him in order to put a tail on him in the first place.  I can’t believe he’s here.  I wonder how long he’s been sitting in this restaurant and I didn’t even know,” Tim’s kicking himself, but it’s not really his fault – Buchanan’s table must be on the other side of the room somewhere behind the bar: a blind spot.

“Do you need to go?” you ask softly, your face falls slightly for a second before you recover, not wanting to make the detective feel bad.

But Tim easily catches your look of disappointment, “No, no, of course not.  Do you mind if I make a call at the table?  I need to try and set-up a surveillance team.”

You nod agreeably, “Do you want me to watch the door?  You don’t want him to get spooked if he sees you, right?”

Tim regards you with a stunned expression for a second, astonished at how your brain is already two steps ahead of his.

Shrugging, you grin, “I mean, you were on TV during the Grandma Ursula case?  You’re kind of famous, Detective Rockford.”

“Ah, I see now.  You only agreed to go out with me for the celebrity treatment,” he shoots back, but he’s smiling as he ducks his head down and faces away from the door as he calls in to the precinct. 

Over the next few minutes, you overhear a few murmured words from Tim’s conversation but mainly concern yourself with nonchalantly watching the front door – you pretend to take photos of the restaurant’s décor, you peek over the dessert menu you’re supposed to be reading, you feign scrolling through your phone.

When Tim gets off his call, you’re pleased to report your observations: a sharply dressed man, who by the description you provide is, in fact, Buchanan, came back into the restaurant less than a minute ago and is sitting with his back to you at a table just on the other side of the bar.  He’s in Tim’s blind spot, but you can see about half of the back of his head easily without craning your neck.  His table has been cleared and he’s sitting across from a pretty brunette girl wearing a red Diane Von Furstenberg patterned wrap dress.

Tim is speechless, he doesn’t even know where to begin with you – your observation to detail is one thing, but it’s the effort and earnestness you’re putting into his work, work that’s interrupting your date, that he can’t quite wrap his mind around.  How are you real?

“Brunette, you said?”

You nod, confirming the hair colour of Buchanan’s dining companion.

“Hmmmm… not his wife then.  Buchanan’s married to a blonde, although he’s supposedly in the middle of a divorce,” Tim muses.  He knows he should feel guilty about letting the job intrude on yet another first date, but he just feels so comfortable around you that he’s instinctively falling into his habit of thinking out loud whenever a case picks up, “I wish we had a clue as to when he was going to leave – the surveillance team is on their way, but if the timing is off, he’ll see them.  It might not even matter though.  The street outside is pretty empty – not a good place to start a tail, too easily noticeable.  Buchanan’s been too much of a pro at evading us so far, we can’t afford to lose this opportunity… fuck.”

Near the end of his rambling, Tim notices that you’re not looking at him anymore, but have a sort of far off look in your eyes.  Double fuck.  Of course he’s boring you with this cop talk.  And moreover, likely offending you too – you’re probably thinking that his work has ruined a third (and probably final) first date attempt.  He can’t blame you, of course – no one wants to be made to feel like less than a priority, and while that’s certainly not how Tim feels about you, he knows he’s doing a terrible job of showing it.

Before he can apologize for his work barging in on your date yet again, you stand and move past where he’s sitting.  You give Tim’s shoulder a little squeeze as you walk by, “I’ll be back.  Just going to use the restroom.”  Then you’re gone, without having heard any of his apologies.

Well, that’s it, thinks Tim, miserably.  You’re probably halfway out the bathroom window by now.  That or texting your friends to plan some kind of exit strategy emergency text that you’ll deploy when you return.  Disappointment and defeat claw at his chest.  For seven months, the memory of you had carried him through some of the harder days and disheartening lows of the Grandma Ursula case.  Like a beacon of light at the end of the tunnel, the memory of you had motivated him in the darkest hours of the investigation, offering him the hope that there was something good waiting for him when he finally put the case to rest.  Now all his yearning and anticipation had come to nothing, the potential of what could have been evaporating before even fully taking shape.

Tim’s in the middle of contemplating if it would be more preferable (less pathetic?) to finish dinner here by himself with a few more whiskeys than he had planned on, or deal with the looks of pity from his colleagues and join the surveillance team on their mission tonight, when you slide back into your seat across from him, positively beaming.

If Tim is surprised by your return or the ecstatic look on your face, it’s nothing compared to how unprepared he is for the words that come spilling out of your mouth.

In a hushed whisper, you excitedly share the information that’s almost bubbling out of you, “Ok!  Listen to this, Detective Rockford!  They’re done their dessert, but Buchanan always has an after dinner Irish coffee, so you’ve got at least fifteen minutes before they leave.  They’re going straight to the marina after this - he has a slip there that he keeps under a different name so his wife can’t get it in the divorce!!  It’s number 55, cause that’s the last World Series the Dodgers won in Brooklyn.  That’s where Buchanan’s from, did you know that?  I bet you did.”

Tim did know that, but how did you?!

You continue on cheerily, “Anyways, Buchanan’s supposed to meet someone aboard his sailboat tonight, so he’ll drop his girlfriend off at the Marina Plaza Hotel first and he’s promised her that the meeting won’t take longer than an hour.  Sorry, I don’t know who he’s meeting!  I didn’t ask – I thought that might be too suspicious.”

You’re finally finished, looking a bit flushed with pride and excitement, patiently waiting for his response.

“How did you learn all this?” You couldn’t have been gone more than ten minutes; Tim knows seasoned detectives that wouldn’t have been able to obtain the amount of information you just did after hours of interrogation.

Cupping your own face in your hands, you lean forward with your elbows on the table, eyes crinkling with elation, “Oh!  I made friends with the girlfriend in the bathroom!  I was watching their table for you and when I saw her get up, I decided to follow her – her name is Angela and she’s really nice.  And Buchanan’s actually quite good to her despite, in my opinion, dragging out divorcing his wife for a bit too long.  Anyways, I asked about her lip combo and we got chatting – I told her I was on a first date with a super handsome and charming guy, and that I was crazy nervous because I liked you a lot but had a suspicion that you were married!” You drop your mouth open comically, pretending to be aghast.  “She told me that sometimes married guys aren’t that bad and told me alllll this stuff about Buchanan, included how he always treats her super special on their nights together – which is how I found out about their plans tonight!”

As he listens to you reveal your methods, Tim is completely dumbfounded.  Tim’s so used to his work and his (some would say) unhealthy dedication to the job pushing people away (or worse, eliciting a morbid curiosity, as if his cases were some kind of sick entertainment), he never imagined that you might be any different.  But here you are, not only completely understanding of how his work is integral to his life, but carving a space for yourself around it and through you own initiative, gone out of your way to help him.  He’s amazed by you.  Grateful for you.

“I love you!” It slips out before Tim can stop it, “Oh, wait…” he’s about to start stuttering when he hears your laugh, light and melodic.

“I know what you mean,” you grin, pointing at his phone to encourage him to relay the information you gathered to the waiting surveillance teams.

I don’t think you do, Tim thinks, glancing back at you with reverence as you go back to studying the dessert menu.  He sends out the information obtained and a few directives to the team lead, getting an affirmative that a secondary team will set up at the marina while the first team moves to a spot enroute in order to be less detectable when they begin their tail.  Satisfied with the updated strategy, Tim turns his full attention back to you and the date – committed to letting his colleagues handle Buchanan for the rest of the evening.

After the waiter leaves with your order for the crème brulé, Tim jests, “Just for the record, I’m not married, Shutterbug.”

Giggling, you let out whoosh of air, making a silly whew sound, “Good!  Even though Angela made it sound like it wasn’t that bad, I don’t think I want to share you, Detective.”  Your eyes twinkle with playfulness, but you’re not lying.

“And you think I’m super handsome and charming?”

“Undoubtedly.  That part I was very honest with her about.  And the fact the I was nervous too… because I liked you so much,” you feel vulnerable admitting so much on first date, but it’s been seven months of putting your feelings for this man on hold, daydreaming about him and questioning sometimes if the connection you had felt with him is even real – you don’t want to waste any more time playing coy.

“I was nervous too,” confesses Tim, “also because I like you quite a lot, but mainly because I think I really fucked up this date before even going on it.”

You tilt your head quizzically – you can’t imagine Tim fucking anything up; he strikes you as being beyond competent at anything he deems worth doing.  You feel lucky that he’s made the effort to try and repeatedly take you out despite being obviously incredibly busy.

At your silence and confused expression, Tim presses on, wishing to apologize since he didn’t get a chance to earlier, “My cases take up a lot of my time. I work a lot - too much, probably.  I'm out of practice when it comes to making sure it doesn’t overrun my personal life, too.  I’m sorry that it keeps taking over our dates.  I promise, when it comes to you, work isn’t my priority.”

You’re so touched by Tim’s sweet words.  You can’t imagine feeling resentful of Tim’s commitment to his job and you want to make sure he knows that, “Don’t be sorry.  Your love for your work and the care you take to do it well so that the rest of us can be safe is one of the things I like best about you.  You make me feel special just by making an effort, Tim.  You don’t have to be worried about me feeling like I’m in competition with your job.”

“There’s no competition, Shutterbug.”

A warmth spreads throughout your chest at Tim’s quiet declaration; almost taken surprise by the surge of affection and desire you suddenly feel for this man, you try to cover up with some lighthearted teasing, “Besides, this was fun! Can we work cases on all our dates, Detective?”

“I’ll take you on as many dates and work as many cases with you as you’d like, Shutterbug.”

Damn it, you smooth talker, you, Detective Rockford.  It’s ludicrous to be expected to fight your attraction and hunger for him if Tim insists on being so darn charming.  So, you don’t fight it.

Staring into Tim’s deep chocolate brown eyes and seeing the gaze of longing reflected, you sigh and drop your eyes to his perfectly kissable lips.  He watches your tongue dart out and give your delectable upper lip a barely noticeable little swipe and suddenly he can’t stand it either - another minute passing without kissing you just simply will not do.  Tim leans across the table, barely able to conceal the shiver of delight that runs up his spine when he sees you leaning in to meet him; when your lips touch, the bright spark that ignites warms you where you connect until it converts to a low humming current that runs through your body, resting and collecting between your legs.  Tim’s mouth is plush and inviting, and when you press your lips to his, he matches each brush of your pillowy soft lips with a deeper, hungrier one of his own.  You can’t help but let one low moan escape your throat, and when your mouth opens to make the corresponding ‘O’ shape, Tim quietly licks in.

Maybe it’s a bit much for an over the table kiss in a fancy restaurant, but this kiss has been a long time in the making, packed to the brim with months of longing and hopes finally realized; you can’t quite bring yourself to care if people are staring.  This is the perfect first kiss with the perfect man.

So lost in this, your earth shattering first kiss, Tim doesn’t even notice Buchanan leaving the restaurant hand-in-hand with a giggling Angela; persuaded to part from you only by the unceremonious arrival of your dessert.

---

Afterwards, Tim offers to walk you home from the restaurant, rather than take a cab – you eagerly accept.  The normally easy twenty-minute walk takes well over forty-five.  Walking with your fingers laced through his, you pull Tim this way and that, pointing out all your favourite neighbourhood haunts that you want to introduce him to.  Tim can’t stop smiling at the way you want to make future plans with him.  He agrees to it all.

You can’t go more than a couple blocks without kissing him; Tim is such a good kisser.  His lips molds perfectly to yours as if he was made for you, and his talented tongue sends a tingle down the back of your throat that radiates all the way to your fingertips with every exploratory trip it makes into your mouth.  By the time you’re a block away from your building, you’re positively dizzy with want thinking about what else that tongue might be capable of.

When you reach the front door of your complex, you shyly slip your hands under the front of Tim’s suit jacket, feeling the hard wall of muscle underneath, “Detective Rockford, thank you for a wonderful evening.” 

“Pleasure was all mine, Shutterbug.  I can’t wait to do this again.”

You glance up at him and find his expression tender, but his eyes dark; it emboldens you.  Grabbing on to the lapels of his jacket, you use it to pull yourself up so you can whisper low into his ear, “Normally, I don’t invite guys up on the first date, but technically… this is our third first date, so…”

You let your voice trail off and look at Tim, searching his eyes and pleading with your own for where you hope you both want the night to lead.

Pulling you close and pressing his forehead to yours, Tim grins, “Every detective knows that even good rules can get tossed out on a technicality.”  You giggle at his corny cop joke and kiss him hard and fast before practically dragging him inside.

---

You stir in the middle of the night to the low vibrations of Tim speaking in hushed tones on his phone behind you, already missing the weight of his arm around your bare body that you had so comfortably been sleeping under.

Finishing his conversation, Tim hangs up and returns to curl around you, arm snaking around your waist, his wide hands coming to a rest just below your naked breasts; you shift back against him and murmur with a smile, “Did they get him?”

Tim presses a soft kiss to your hair, grinning at the intuitiveness of your question, “No, not tonight, but yes.”

You turn in his arms, intrigued by his answer, and open your eyes to a sight that sets your heart a flutter: Tim is positively beaming.

“Okay Detective, tell me the good news please,” you grin right back.

Tim can’t contain himself - he’s more than pleased to share the good news with you, especially since you played such a crucial role in tonight’s win, “The teams successfully put a tail on Buchanan without him knowing – they went to the marina just like you said.  The second team staked out the meeting at the slip you told us about and you’ll never guess who he was meeting with!”

“Who?” you wouldn’t have the faintest idea of where to begin guessing, but you play along - Tim’s excitement is rubbing off on you.

“The Accountant.” Tim says this with such gusto that you can’t help but giggle, happy for him.

Tim’s heart soars at the sound before he continues, “The Accountant handles all the money and books for Mr. Pie.  He’s even more elusive than Buchanan.  There was a handoff on the boat and the second team followed the Accountant to a drop site afterwards.  They let him make the drop and then took him into custody right after.  Now we know one more location that Mr. Pie operates out of – we’re going to stake out that building and figure out what they do there before arresting everyone inside.”  Tim looks positively gleeful at the thought.

“And what about Buchanan?” you can’t help it, you’re invested.

“Oh, we let him go back to hotel; first team is all set up on the same floor - he won’t be able to make a move without them knowing.  We’ll let him go about his day a little bit tomorrow before we pick him up.  Didn’t want to take him and The Accountant in too close together in case it spooks Mr. Pie.”  Internally, Tim is grateful for the misdirection tactic; it will eliminate any connection that the intel came from Angela, therefore erasing the role you played in tonight’s operation.  Not that he isn’t eternally grateful for your help, but he doesn’t want you formally involved in any of his cases again.

“Oh, that’s good.  I’m glad that you let him have his night with Angela.  You won’t have to take her in, will you?”

“No, she should be okay.  You care about her, eh?”

“She was nice!  I liked her.  Plus, if I got to have my perfect night with my “married man”, she should at least have hers,” you quip.

Tim laughs, giving you an affectionate pinch on your hip before his expression turns sincere and his voice drops, “Thank you so much, Shutterbug.  None of this would have been possible without you and your help.  I can’t thank you enough for… caring about my work.  For giving me another chance.  Just being you.”

He looks at you so intensely and with such devotion that you find yourself warming beneath his gaze despite your current state of nakedness.  Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you do a mini shimmying dance of victory in his arms, “You’re welcome, baby.  Now tell me, is there some sort of rewards incentive program for helping out handsome detectives with their cases?”

“Oh yes.  You were automatically enrolled when I took your phone at the aquarium…” he grins, playing along, “… for that, you earned a date with said detective.”

“Right, very good prize,” you wiggle a little more before pressing yourself against Tim’s hard, bare chest, “… and for helping with the surveillance on Buchanan tonight?  What did I earn for that?”

Tim’s eyes sparkle devilishly and he lowers his lips to your ear, voice low and husky, “I think you were paid in two… no, three orgasms for that, sweetheart. We’re all square.”

A little gasp escapes your throat, Tim’s words taking you back to your marathon sex from earlier this evening.  Images of naked limbs and sweaty bodies entangled, Tim’s beautiful, girthy cock barely fitting in your hands, and his face buried between your legs flash through your mind.  You suddenly feel very flushed, fresh arousal starting to coat your inner thighs again. 

You extract the hand that’s pinned from beneath Tim’s side and make a peace sign with it, holding it up so Tim can see, “Two, Detective Rockford.  I believe I helped you apprehend two criminals tonight: Buchanan and The Accountant.”

Tim chuckles at your triumphant grin, realizing that he should probably get used to this: the perfect woman, always two steps ahead of him, outsmarting the famous Detective Rockford at every turn and reducing him to a puddle at her feet every time.  The two of you have only had one date, and he’s already head over heels for you.

Rolling you onto your back and looming his big frame over your welcoming body, Tim concedes happily, “You’re right, Shutterbug – I owe you one.  You intend on collecting right now?”

At seeing you adorably bite your lower lip bashfully while nodding with eagerness, Tim gives the thin sheet covering your naked bodies a quick flick of his wrist so it flies up, quickly diving underneath and letting the fabric float gently over his head.  As he kisses his way down your body, he grins against your warm, soft skin when he hears your squeals turn to moans above him.

Yep, best third first date ever.