#still calling me a bitch even though i asked them to atop and that i wanst in the mood

[cherryspicest]

I'm here for you

Part 1 Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Might not be the happiest Christmas, but surely she’ll make your holiday count.

Only if you could put in the emptiness of your heart inside the white blanket and leave it under throughout the day, you could’ve done it. Yet it was impossible, only to see yourself sitting on the white comfy bed with a pillow atop your legs, blanket tucked in between and your tummy as you rest your arms over the pillow. The pouring snowflakes outside the window was not enough to count Christmas’ for you—unless she replies back with a text.

You didn’t receive any message from Sullyoon again after she greets you Merry Christmas. Though it is a holiday season, a time where she would spend more of her day with her relatives, her active status that shows online throughout the day clears out the good thoughts running up in your mind.

A few hours ago, you called her friend Lily on the phone to ask about Sullyoon, and told you she is with them while you hear clanking bottles in the background. Even with the urge of asking her to give the phone to her, you rather shrugged it off—letting her enjoy the time with her friends even if she has left you like this. 

Enjoy your Christmas love! Call me if anything happens—You type into your phone, unmotivated

You feel pity for yourself, and yet still rather play stupid with all these scenarios that she would sometimes leave you. Throughout your life, losing your girlfriend is what you swore not to happen. One risky action driven by emotions is a sure path for the end of such promise.

You immediately throw the pillow and the blanket when you hear three soft knocks on the entrance door. Expecting it to be your girlfriend, but rather it was Wonyoung—your best friend—standing in front of you in a tight red dress, enough to shape out the perfect curvature of her body. She carries a paper handbag in the other hand with a small christmas tag stapled in it.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets with a sweet smile. 

Her usual smile - cute voice tone combo she always does never gets tiring. The fact that she only shows that side to you gives you the reason to value it. 

You let her in shortly. Her heels make soft thuds in every of her step while she makes her way towards the kitchen table to place her carriage. When she notices you never had anything to prepare, nor even ingredients and food around the kitchen, she flips around to look at you with widened eyes. 

“No food? You haven’t prepared anything for yourself?” She asks, and you push your lips. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

The silence from you was enough for her to take as she scoffs in disbelief. “That bitch didn’t even visit you here, Y/n?”

“Hey, you can’t call her that. She’s still my girlfriend though.”

“So what?” She rolls her eyes and groans. “Where is she?”

“I’m just letting her enjoy Christmas with her friends right now. If she’s happy there then, can I even do anything? I just want her to be happy.”

“No Y/n, you’re stupid. You’re here fucked up around your small apartment, looking helpless, and expecting her to show up in your door when she entirely chose to stay with her friends..”

“Wonyoung, she’s my girlfriend.”

“As if I care?” She raises an eyebrow. Her voice tone went deep and natural. “Plus I know things better, she’s your girlfriend, I’m your girl-best-friend. No wonder she doesn’t have the word best compared to me—because she’s .”

“Alright, no need to say it again.” You interrupt her, and she smirks.

The amount of slurs she said to your girlfriend was enough to make any guy pissed, though you’re not one of them as you take her words completely normal. That abrasive attitude would always show up whenever Sullyoon does something that she wouldn’t like. Insults, jokes, slurs everywhere like a typical male gaming lobby. 

“Chicken bucket? Fries? Steak? What do you want?” She continues scrolling on her phone, not bothering to look at you. “Caviar? Milk Tea? It’s all in me, don’t care if it's priced like Dior or Versace.”

“It’s your money.

“That’s why I’m asking you? I want my money to be wasted on something that would make you happy at least.”

You sigh. “You’re so cheesy, can you stop it for once.”

“I’m not being cheesy.” She grins. That pissed off look seems to disappear right away. “Just pointing out the reason why I’m asking you that.”

No buts, no what ifs, chicken bucket is what you chose, and Wonyoung came to agree with your decision. Tapping the add to cart, buy, then that’s it, the food will adjust for your lazy asses because you can’t head to the chicken store 2 streets away from your place.

The delivery arrives earlier than expected. There was no reason for Wonyoung to flex the thick amount of folded money inside her wallet before she opened the door—-and yet she still did. That action was unnecessary, but it's typical of her, she’d do such things to prove how lucky you are to be her best friend. 

“Are you attending some red carpet event with that dress?” 

She chuckles while pulling the bucket out from the paperbag. “You like it?”

“Probably yeah, it’s just funny you have to wear some luxurious shit just to visit me here.” You grab a drumstick from the bucket and take a bite. “I look poor around you.”

“I’d still appreciate it though.” She grabs a drumstick for herself too. “By the way, did she even greet you?”

“She did, atleast.”

“You even know the place is? Whom she is with?”

You sigh and grin. “What’s with the interrogation, Wonyoung? You sound like my mom whenever I arrive home.”

She pushes your shoulder, enough to move you an inch away. “Hey, I’m asking you? I don’t need your stupid side comments.”

“Come on, she’s with her friends, that’s it, I know she’d be safe anyways. The place?”

“Green flag Y/n?” 

You cross your arm and smile, proud of being called as one.

“No, you’re stupid. If I could only hit you with my heels right now, I would have right now.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh? You’re really challenging me to do so? You know I don’t say shit that I wouldn’t do.”

You keep your attention on the TV in the living room . “Go ahead.”

Wonyoung’s words were never meant to only scare you away. You ready yourself when she puts down her drumstick over the table, and reaches for her heel. She raises her shoes at you, and you manage to grab her wrist at time. You feel her pushing you more and more, not minding what and where the direction you’re both into.

“You’re so weak, Wony.” You tease, and she lets out a hiss. Her narrowed eyes show how much she wants to win against you. 

“I hate you so much.” 

She groans, and seems to boost up her inner strength. You feel her force get heavier. In a moment, you start to move backwards, her expression is enough for you to see her desire to contest against you. It all stops when your back meets the refrigerator.

Your world seems to pause, everything feels slow. While your grasps are at both Wonyoung’s raised wrists, you didn’t realize how close you were both. Both of your eyes gazing into each other like two interlinked bridges that never get separated. Your breaths are the only ones you can hear between, yet it never stopped you from admiring your best friend’s visual.

You let go of her wrists, it was a weird feeling to remain that composure. The sense of awkwardness struck out of nowhere yet it is a better thing to shrug it off. 

When you make your way back to the table, she follows shortly in a slow pace like a little girl who broke a glass. She grabs her paper bag closer to her, revealing a wine bottle in her hand just as she pulls it out. It was the typical holiday type wine that rich people give their close ones, obviously the same level of status as them where you can’t relate. 

“Someone wasted an amount of stash again.” You joke.

“It’s just wine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you never went to the same school as me. You think you forgot how your mom even paid for my private taxi when it was too late at night already.”

“It’s my mom, not me.” You notice her wandering around the kitchen as if she’s finding something. “And, the wine glasses are in the 4th cabinet up there.”

Clumsy Wonyoung as usual, always the struggle of finding something. She’d be losing her pens every single time back in freshman years where she’ll make up an excuse of her pen teleporting in an unknown dimension.

She hands you the glass, then pours the wine carefully in it. She does one for herself then motions to clank with you in which you accepted.

“A great holiday ahead.” She smiles, then sips into her wine glass. 

She’s too luxurious for you. The way you’d drink the wine glass like a milk in a cup, hoping it doesn’t look embarrassing, while she drinks it too formally as if you’re a CEO of some known brand.

Lowkey, you’re expecting some message from your girlfriend on your phone—-yet there was none. A single vibration from your pocket is enough to keep you alive—and there was none even. At least, Wonyoung is here to keep you stable and promising, a true friend who’d never leave you.

“Fuck, the hell even happened to her,” you mutter, pertaining to your girlfriend.

“Sorry?” Wonyoung pauses. 

She notices the phone in your hand which gave the reason for her smile to disappear slowly. She knows it, always your stupidity, but rather not show it to you and decided to continue sipping in her wine glass. 

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Wonyoung as she unexpectedly snatches your phone, then hides it behind her. “No phones tonight, we enjoy this day together like how we used to do when we were still at the same school.”

“Come on, give it back.” You walk closer, effortfully trying to grab your phone back.

“What if I don’t?” 

She places the phone on her other hand, giving you a hard time reaching it unless you wrap your hand around hers.

“Friendship over then.” 

“Is that so?” She stretches her arm down. 

That phone is what all you wanted, and the urge of snatching it back from her is heating you up. No matter how awkward things may be, you come closer and grab her wrist behind, ignoring the close proximity between you and her as if you are cuddling like couples. Her grip on your phone was surprisingly strong that it might take you a little why before you can forcefully free it. 

She looks at you in mischief, then a smirk forms into the corner of her lips. 

“Let’s break our friendship then,” she says softly, and you feel the warmth of her breath on your neck, “chingu geu isang-eul wonhanikkayo”.

“So what did you just say to me?”

“Want me to translate it for you?” 

A quick second glance on your lips, then she leans forward to press her lips into yours. There was no time to react, nor escape in this scenario. You feel your heart skip a beat when you feel her lips on yours, slowly accepting the fact she’s kissing you right now.

The kiss was getting deeper. She slowly wraps her arms around your neck while she pulls you even closer. You feel her tongue asking for entrance, and there was no reason for not to welcome it. She lets out a soft moan when you wrap your hands around her hips. Now it’s a make out session—with your alluring, old best friend that you’ve known more than any you’ve met.

You wanted it so badly. These hormones heat you up as if you wanted to get undressed and finish right away. Yet there was a hold back, a sense of stop like there were chains around your wrists, no matter how much you wanted to continue, it does not let you.

Placing your fingers on her chin was enough for her to stop and pull away. 

“Wonyoung, I can’t. I’m sorry, this is ridiculous.” You shake your head while you avoid her eyes, pulling away as you distance yourself. “I can’t cheat on my girlfriend, you know this is wrong right?” 

“I know it’s wrong,” she contests. “But that’s the only way for you to understand my feelings. 

“Wony–”

“Yes, you’re right. I fucking love you, and I don’t understand why do you have to be numb throughout the years we’ve been together.” She keeps her eyes locked at you. “Because every time I confess, you always think I’m fooling with you, or either way I’m drunk, crazy, or stressed. And here my stupid ass is going to pretend it is because I don’t want to embarrass myself!”

The atmosphere between you two seemed to set upside down when you once heard that deep natural voice from her—it was a cue for her seriousness. Your feelings are mixed like scattered tin cans, nothing specific, hard to distinguish. You just wanted to leave and smell the fresh air outside to calm yourself down, yet you didn’t want to leave Wonyoung like this either.

“I don’t understand.” There’s nothing you could do but leave your mouth open. “That must be the wine.”

She forces a smile, scoffing as she begins to nod lightly while her eyes appear teary. “Yeah, must be the wine, this fucking wine. It’s always me or any shit you would see just to make me look crazy.”

“Come on, do we have to come at this point? Wonyoung you know it’s hard for me to understand this, I have a girlfriend, and . . . “

She picks up her small sling bag from the bar chair, and looks at you, fixing her hair. “I know, you have Sullyoon. It’s my fault as well, I shouldn’t have been this fragile likewise.” She sniffs and moves a few strands in her hair. “I think it’s better for me to go, Merry Christmas.”

“Wonyoung.”

Calling her name was not enough to make her stop from walking out of your apartment. The silence was loud, and you flowed with it.

You find yourself standing emptily  like a mannequin as you watch the door close itself. Everything that happened flows quickly, one an action that can’t be undone, and it’s all gone. That kiss is enough to change how you see your best friend anymore.

[estjbeaver]

𝑼𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓

[Tamaki Keigo]

[NSFW]

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

Reblog | Comment | Enjoy, ig

Warning! Spoilers. Slow burn. Drunken sex. Breeding sex. Desperate sex. Forgetful sex. Loveless sex. No strings attached. Plot sex. Strangers to Lovers Sex

"T-This just in..."

You were seated in your usual spot at your usual bar, subtly listening intently at what the reporter had to say.

"T-This- I can't believe- "

She kept on stuttering over her own words. It annoyed you at first, but then you realized that gasps and sobs joined the baffled reporter. Curiosity had you looking up at the screen.

"I-" she cleared her throat. "This just in. Pro Hero Hawks seems to be having a struggle fighting against League of Villains member: Dabi. The blue flames make it hard to see b- but we should only hope for the- ah!"

The reported was attacked and the camera went all fuzzy. More people in the bar started whispering and gossiping; overall worrying about their safety. Many left while others tried to drown their sorrows away with alcohol. You just sat there, finishing your drink, looking up at the fuzzing tv.

Life never was something to brag about to you. Your quirk had gotten you exactly where your parents wanted you to be. You were a graduate of medical school, supported by your Regeneration quirk. Basically, you rebuilt lost or damaged DNA.

Later that night you walked alone in the streets of rubble, shit and death. Some newbie heroes took care of the job, though it lasted hours. Hawks ended up in the hospital, wings joined in the rusty evening sky as nothing more than ashes. You'd met him before and rather enjoyed his "company". Met at the bar, a few drinks in, then woke up entangled with feathers and sheets.

A shame, really, to see such potential burn in the flames of his rival. Fuck you, she scolded Dabi for being such a dickhead.

Time skip. He was discharged about two days ago, the fight being something of the past. Weeks were wasted in the hospital where the constant reminder of his disappointment haunted him. He was told to take things easy but being sober was forcing him to nearly lose his sanity. He left for a bar. A bar he hadn't visited in quite some time, and he wasn't sure why.

Everywhere he walked people would gawk and stare. Some would even try to encourage him, but that always ruined his day even more. People pitied him now. A hero, who was supposed to save them.

Wearing a face mask and cap he took a seat at the far back. He asked for something strong and patiently waited.

"Everyone's fucking stupid," he heard you say from behind him, seated at your usual booth. At first, he didn't think you were talking to him. "Either people or blind, or luck is finally on your side." You took a sip. He glanced through the corner of his eyes, but still couldn't see you.

"What now? You gon pity me or some shit? Call me out for being such a fucking disappointment?"

"Why would I do that?" He turned his head over his shoulder and looked directly at the back of your head. "You did more than what I ever could've."

"Yet I still failed." You scoffed and downed your drink, the notified waiter refilling it within moments. "Something funny?"

"Just you thinking you're so special," you could feel him lifting his brows and twisted your head to look at him. Your arm rested atop the booths. Both your faces were really close.

"I'm not-"

"But you are," you swallowed more comfort-juice.

"I'm not-"

"But you are," he stayed quiet to avoid irritation. "Stop thinking you're so special just because some villain whooped your ass. Life happens and there's nothing you can do about it... except laugh it off and call out: 'Fuck you too'," his eyes softened after a moment's worth of pondering. Then he started to chuckle amusingly.

"Have we met?" He then asked, voice a mixture of pure depression and pure delight.

You shrugged. "You've had many, but I'm a lucky bitch who was railed by the Pro Hero Hawks." A seductive grin grinned and he lifted a brow. Your glass rested on your bottom lip and daring eyes looked up at him. "Guess you were just having a shitty day and needed some therapy."

He reached for his own drink and downed the burning liquid. "Guess you pop up exactly when I need you most, huh." You snickered and placed your empty glass down.

"Are you saying you're having a bad day?" Fuck, you were being a slut. Your finger traced circles on his shoulder, ignoring the threatening glare he sent your way. "Maybe you need some therapy."

You looked at him. Fuck, you looked at him.

And that's how you ended up under him, begging for more and pleading for him to stop. Hands clawing at his back as his mouth sucked, bit, gnawed, and kissed away at your body.

Both naked. Both steaming hot. Both already dripping with sweat. Both horny as life itself. Where exactly? He said it was his place, but you didn't quite remember it being as such. Didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Nothing mattered other than his slick fucking fingers stretching you out mercilessly. Your hands gripped at his hair and pulled, groans and moans syncing sexually. He added his thumb to rub your clit. Your back arched and a string of curses cursed their way out your mouth. The common stranger would never take you for being so verbal.

And you weren't. Unless it was a frustrated, animalistic horny beast busy railing you into the fucking ground. You came all over his hand, his fingers dripping soaking wet with the evidence you proved of being ready. He did that. He made you feel so good your body erupted with sensational orgasm.

"I think- I'm starting- to remember you," he spoke between sloppy kisses, ignoring his desperation for air. You kept on kissing him back.

"How so?"

He pulled away and flipped you over, forcing you into doggy style. He took a moment; a painfully short moment, just to take all of you in. "Who the fuck wouldn't remember something as incredible as you?"

Your head dropped with a childish grin. Big, rough hands tightly gripped your sides. Your heartbeat beat faster and faster at the anticipating expectation of him filling you up. You weren't a virgin when he fucked you before, but his size made you feel like tearing everything possible. It had you anxiously excited.

"Ha!" You responded to his previous statement. "You haven't seen the least of my incredibility," you boasted. Then you felt it. A massive fucking cock just brushing over your dripping cunt. It slid between your folds, massaging your clit with every up and down movement.

His chest pressed up against your back, mouth close to your ear. You felt his hot breaths. You felt his tongue wetting your lobe. Shivers. Fucking shivers.

"Then show me."

Fuck! What better word to describe what he was doing to you? With no mercy and no time for taking a breath, he fucked himself deep into you. Pounding endlessly until you swore, he reached your cervix. A repeated motion of buckling his hips and gripping your waist. It drove you mad.

Again and again, he thrusted into you and then for absolutely no fucking reason... he stopped. Dick buried deep inside of you, you were hoisted up and pressed against him. Your back against his chest. Both standing on your knees, only you had a twitching cock inside of you.

"Show me exactly what makes you so memorable."

When you made your remark, you meant it in two ways. You were incredible. Your quirk, to be more specific. And when he uttered those words, it somehow managed to slip out doubled meaning as well.

When all he got was sympathy, you proved to him that life was cruel and there was no point bitching about that. Yet you lightened something that he didn't even know was there. A flame, perhaps? A glimpse of... motivation?

His arms were crossed over your body, each hand gripping a tit. your one hand reached to cup his cheek, while the other rested atop his hands. His nose nuzzled into your neck, pecking it softly.

"If I did that, you might not want to let me go."

You wanted him. Before it was only a hunch and even now you could've just been under the influence of his arousal, but you wanted him. And not just in the sexual way. You wanted him. Desperately.

"You thought I was going to let you go?" He tugged at a string in your mind that sent flutters into your tummy. One peck to the cheek and you were back on all fours, gripping onto the sheets and crying out cries of pleasure. Bouncing along to his beat. Taking him in inch by inch. Like a hawk in heat, he made you his.

His thrusts became sloppy and breaths even more rigid. He was close. You gasped and yelped all at once, feeling the sudden attachment of his finger fingering your clit. Over stimulation. Complete and utter rapture. Glee that made you feel wanted and adored. How could he have such an effect on you?

Your walls tightened and pussy juices squirted all over his pounding cock. Hawks himself then joined you in orgasm and filled you with his seed. Hot, sticky cum dripped from your cunt, sweat mixing in with it.

You were exhausted. He plucked himself from your clingy pussy and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. At first, you fell face first into the bed. You then caught your breath and adjusted your position to look at him. He sensed it and looked back at you.

No words. He simply crawled onto the bed and wrapped big strong arms around you. Gently, he shifted both your weights to lay on your sides; snuggled up against him. You felt hot, sure, but you also felt safe. You heard him chuckle with little amusement.

"Last time I held you I could at least cover you up," he mentioned towards his lost wings. The fluttering burned and you had a heavy sensation dropping in your chest. He pecked your forehead, but let go when you looked up at him.

"I want to show you how incredible I am now." You've decided. His head titled slightly to the side in confusion and he snickered.

"Thought we already established that, kid."

You pulled your lips into a thin line, but then shook your head. Sincerity in your eyes allowed him to understand how serious you were, and his expression softened. He looked at you and maintained focus on where you were touching him. Over his chest, down his sides. Across his back... until you touched the roots where his wings once were.

He cringed or flinched; you weren't sure. One hand went to his neck, and you pulled him in for a kiss. Something to distract him. Something to comfort him. Intimacy. Affection. Passion. All synced along to the kiss. You worked your magic. He didn't notice.

When you pulled away his forehead touched yours. You felt gingerly at the roots of his wings. You smiled. You started to giggle. He looked down on you and gave you a questioning look. You simply smiled up at him.

"And that smile?" As reply you gestured towards the bathroom. In specific the mirror. He felt like there was something on his face or some shit and decided to get up. You sat there, excitedly waiting for him to open his gift from you. It was honestly the least you could do for him.

He looked at his reflection and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He turned to the side and looked back at where you were sitting on the bed, shrugging. You motioned towards the mirror again, this time he only turned his head to examine his side figure.

H-How?

His eyes were wide, yours were closed. His mouth was agape, yours pulled up in a smug smile. His hands were near trembling, yours were ready to embrace him again. There they were. At his roots.

Two little bundles of freshly grown, scarlet-red feathers. An unforgettable favor.

© all content belongs to estjbeaver '22. do not modify or repost.

Hawks

[bitchsister]

EYY curt is canon to me so he's one insatiable slut so how about a very horny curt riding a sleeping bucky, ofc it's with consent since bucky is so used to it lol (or bucky just a lil bit sleepy and tired and just letting curt uses his cock however he please)

Okay so how did you know IM A SICK BITCH WHO’S SO INTO THAT. Like this is so real & so Curtie. Bucky is a tired “old man” and Curtis is an always so very horny twenty year old, ten fingers, ten toes, from the Bronx. 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Since this is an EYY drabble, Curtis calls Bucky by the nickname Binky.

Insatiable slut Curtis, activate 🥴

Instances of true privacy are few and far between, so Curt tends to take every moment alone with Bucky and use it to his utmost advantage — even if he’s dead asleep.

Still acclimating to the experience of being in-flight, Bucky found himself thoroughly drained by the relentless stress that accompanied it all. The weight of his concerns for Curt, Gale, and the entire one hundredth pressed upon him, but not when claimed by sleep.

He slept like a rock and radiated heat like a stove.

If his grip on Curt’s ribcage wasn’t enough to cause a little unrest, then the sweat was.

"C'mon," Curt whispered, though his complaint lacked any real conviction. He gently unraveled Bucky's fingers, one by one, allowing himself to slowly slip out of his grasp. Eventually, he settled himself atop Bucky's thighs, feeling the caress of the cool air from a cracked window in their resting apartment, its gentle touch teasing his dampened skin.

From there, he got the best view.

Bare chest, softened brow, cheekbones for days.

Full lips, gorgeous neck, the scar upon his cheek.

The birds began to chirp outside, dancing along the clotheslines but there was still no sign of the sun just yet — Curt glanced at the clock by their bedside, clicking his tongue.

Only half past four.

He sat for awhile, letting Bucky’s sleeping grip grab onto him again until the weight upon his own hipbones woke him. “Noo,” he whined, still too sleepy to wake up fully, or open his eyes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Curt could run off of fumes alone.

Most of the time, he did.

Sleeping was a damn waste of time if you asked him, especially for men whose next breath may be their last. “Mhm.” He hummed softly, his fingertips gently ghosting over the knuckles that still gripped onto him despite his exhaustion.

Bucky’s head lulled to the side, his heart relishing in this moment despite being plucked straight from a deep sleep — he’d been met with the most beautiful voice, the most comforting feeling.

“So, let’s see it, then.”

Curt hummed again in a gentle protest, shaking his head though Bucky couldn’t see it. He ground himself against the man lying beneath him — but barely.

It was enough for Bucky’s body to notice, but hardly his brain.

Curt leaned in, pressing his face against Bucky's neck, reveling in the familiar scent that resided there. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips, uncontrollable and infectious. "Burnt sugar," he whispered, his words a soft breath that danced amidst the curls cascading along the nape of Bucky's neck.

“Huh?”

“It’s what you smell like.”

Curt remembered the summers with his PopPop in the Catskills when he was younger, pouring sugar onto spoons with his sisters and using a lighter to heat it until it bubbled.

Sweet, sticky, just a little bitter.

Bucky's sleep-laden chuckle escaped, a soft and mellow sound that conveyed his contentment. He remained drowsy, unwilling to open his eyes. "Oh, yeah?" he responded, his voice carrying a tender warmth, much like his usual demeanor, but with an added touch of endearment.

“Yeah.”

Curt inhaled again, pressing his face deeper into the curve of his neck where he wished he could stay forever.

There, no wars existed and none of their friends had died.

“What do I smell like?” Curt asked in a whisper.

There fell another silence, blanketing them again in warm comfort until Bucky wrapped his arms around Curt and murmured, “Mine.”

Oh, bleeding hearts.

Curt sat up and looked down at Bucky who finally decided to barely open his eyes, a sleepy smile tugging his lips as he lazily palmed circles into Curt’s belly.

They’d fallen asleep naked, of course, so each rotation had caused his wrist to brush against Curt’s already hardening cock.

This was far from the first time Curt had roused himself from slumber before the break of dawn, determined to persuade Bucky that they both deserved a treat. He knew, however, that this time he would need to employ a touch more persuasion.

“Gimme some lovin’.” He wiggled his ass and pushed his body further into Bucky’s touch who groaned softly, his eyes closed again and the invisible circles he’d been drawing over Curt’s belly growing sloppy and light handed.

“Tired, baby.” His eyes had closed again.

This was the response Curt was expecting, but not the one he wanted.

He whimpered, reaching back to grab Bucky’s cock that had stiffened slightly but not enough to do anything with. With a quickness, he scrambled between his thighs and shoved them apart, admiring his half hard cock with a devious grin.

“Well, he ain’t.”

It was awhile before Bucky responded.

“He’s never tired.”

Curt allowed his mouth to kiss and lick and suck wherever it wanted. His tongue licked fat, wet stripes over his cock and down to his tight balls, over his thighs and back again. “That’s good, ain’t it?” His lips popped off of Bucky audibly, his chin dribbling with sticky spit.

Bucky’s body had flushed, his cheeks turning red as a little chuckle bubbled out of him. “You like takin’ advantage of an old man?” He teased, reaching a hand down to blindly rake his fingers through Curt’s messy mop of brown waves.

“Well, it ain’t takin’ advantage if that old man begs me to fuck myself harder on it.” Curt continued to mouth at Bucky’s cock, muttering filth against it. “Growin’ boys have needs, Binky.”

“You ain’t growin’ more than this.” Bucky quickly retorted, though he still sounded like he was fighting sleep as Curt stroked him, licked him, sucked him off with the most obscene sounds swirling around them. “Try as you might. Ain’t happenin’.”

“Hey,” Curt whined, nipping at Bucky’s inner thigh, “What if I have a real late growth spurt? And I got taller than you, huh? What then?”

Bucky would roll his eyes if they were open, but the tone of his voice had been more than enough. “You gonna sit on it?” He tugged at his hair, causing his neck to curve. “And quit runnin’ your mouth?”

Curt huffed, the sound of sheets rustling and the bed creaking whirled around their heads until he was straddled again over Bucky’s cock, spit slicked between his cheeks with his own fingers before he stuffed himself full of Bucky, and the smell of burnt sugar.

They both hummed, satisfied and in their most comfortable positions — closest to one another, becoming one.

Curt cooed, sharp breaths sucked through his teeth once he began making slow, calculated movements.

It wasn’t long before he was a whining mess, though.

His entire body flushed a pretty pink, his chest heaving, his tiny hands grasping onto any part of Bucky and himself that they could reach. “You feel taken advantage of?” Curt huffed, sucking his own fingers, his left hand stroking himself.

Bucky grinned, hands splayed over Curt’s warm thighs. “Oh, absolutely.” He whispered, eyes cracking open again to gaze at his little darling, all sweaty and whimpering, wild hair and wet lips. “God, you’re fuckin’ filthy.” He moaned, knowing well enough that his cock was more Curt’s than it was his own.

“Y’gonna gimme what I want?” He was practically begging. Bucky knew Curt couldn’t finish if he wasn’t full of it — they’d tried before to get a couple quickies in here and there, but it failed miserably.

The only way to guarantee an orgasm from Curt was to first orgasm yourself. Inside of him.

It was endearing, of course, but meant they couldn’t rub one out together if need be.

Curt required far more attention than that.

And he deserved it.

Bucky grabbed hold of Curt’s soft little hips before he rose his own to hammer into him, forcing out little whines and squeaks with each thrust until he found himself becoming a mess, groaning fuckfuckfucks.

The second Curt had noticed the warmth growing in his belly like a blazing ball of fire, he spilled his own hot sticky mess over Bucky’s chest.

They caught their breath and Curt continued the small little circular rotation of his hips, bending to lick up his own come, dribbling it into Bucky’s mouth, nipping his neck, biting his chin, sucking his nipples, moaning and whining as Bucky’s softening cock had left him feeling less full than he was only a moment ago.

“One more.” Curt panted, licking at Bucky’s chest again. “Please.”

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 17: Encouraging Someone to Achieve a Goal [1,142 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

I do have a main fic for these two in the very early stages, but it's currently on a break while I finish up some other things - but I'll definitely return to it eventually.

Anyway, throwing all of my insecure artist angst into this one, lads.

Fiona threw down her pencil and sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands and not caring if it ended up streaked with grey thanks to the action.

“Hurdle?” Eddie’s voice sounded somewhere from the bed behind her.

They’d long since taken to spending a lot of their time here, in her studio apartment – where they couldn’t be interrupted, nor often found at all. He’d been lounging on her bed for some time, and after a certain length of quiet she’d quietly assumed he’d dozed off and thought little more of it. Apparently she’d been wrong.

“More of a roadblock,” she replied sourly, voice muffled by her palms. “Surrounded by lots of yellow tape reading danger do not cross, land mines, all of that sort of thing. Maybe an armed guard or two. Orcs, I think. Uruks. Great big ones. Covered in blood. Occasionally, they laugh and call me a dumb bitch. It’s a whole thing.”

Had he laughed, despite the fact that she’d purposely riddled her words with a touch of the ridiculous, she wouldn’t felt worse. And maybe he knew that, because he didn’t. The bed creaked as he got out of it, feet padded against the floor, and then there was warmth at her right side as he leaned over her to peer at the sketch that was sending her around the bend.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asked quietly.

Once again, knowing the right thing to say. The bastard. Because any exclamation of it’s fine, or there’s nothing wrong with it, or you’re being dramatic would make her feel even more ridiculous than she already did.

Although she was doing a pretty decent job at making herself feel ridiculous, grumbling in response – although finally lowering her hands as she did so, just so she could scowl at the paper before her.

“It’s like every other crap, mediocre thing I’ve ever drawn.”

“Ah. One of those nights?” he asked knowingly, leaning down so he could rest his chin atop her shoulder.

“I mean it, Eddie,” she insisted. “What am I thinking? What was I thinking? Art school? Like that’s not a direct path to living hand to mouth for the rest of your life. I have no…no back-up plan. No other bloody skills. Nowhere to go when this shit inevitably doesn’t work out.”

“You’re good. Real fucking good. Best artist I know.”

“That’s not enough,” she shook her head.

“You’ve got the dedication. God knows you’ve got the work ethic.”

He remained close, a ring-clad hand settling down atop her waist.

“That might not be enough either.”

“What would be, then?”

“Luck. Fate. That…that it thing, that all the people who make it have. The shit people know when they see, but can’t really explain. You have it.”

As she shrugged, his chin remained firmly planted at her shoulder despite how her action jostled it. When she was done, though, he pulled back only enough to wheel her chair back with him, spinning it around so she faced him and ignoring how it creaked in protest.

“So do you! You have all of that, babe. Luck? Luck is shit. Luck is what the naysayers who gave up on their own shit call it when the people who didn’t succeed, so they can feel better about the path they chose.”

“But what if nobody else sees it, Eddie?” she gestured wildly, too lost in the spiralling panic to care if she sounded ridiculous. “I can do everything I can to make this work, I can ignore that gross, pitying look people who don’t matter give when you tell them you’re an artist – the one that’s all ‘oh, sweetheart, you’re too old to still cling to a dream like that’ because fuck them, but if the people who do matter see my shit and decide it’s not for them, I’m- I’m fucked. And what then?”

“Then you give them the finger and you keep going for it,” he said like it was obvious, eyeing her with no less fiery fondness than he usually did for how damn hysterical she knew she was being.

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

“It will.”

“If it doesn’t, Eddie?” she leaned forward. “If I end up…if I end up some- some unemployable sixty-year-old woman who can’t afford her phone bill because she poured everything into delusion and ended up with no other skill to offer?”

“Better than being a sixty-year-old in a job she hates wondering if she could’ve had it all doing what she loved if only she’d tried,” he said without hesitation. “I know you, Fi. You’d be ten times happier scraping to get by doing what you love than you’d be living like a queen with a job that has you dreading the alarm going off in the morning. You’re doing it now, neither of us exactly lives like royalty – is it so bad?”

His hand rested on her shoulders then, impressing the full weight of his words on her.

 “It’s not bad at all,” she said, honestly and without hesitation.

“So…worst case scenario…more of this. Could be a hell of a lot worse. You can’t view the other path as a surefire win, either, because who’s to say it’d work out? You can get fired from a shitty job you hate just as much as you can fail doing something you love. If anything, it’s probably more likely. So what’s the point?”

The tension left her – a slow sort of unfurling working its way across her body, her chin lifting, her shoulders loosening up, and her jaw unclenching one after the other. Eddie grinned.

 “It’s…” he paused and leaned in close so he could reach and turn the little alarm clock on her desk towards his gaze, “two in the morning. Which means it’s around four hours after the cut-off point where you can start trusting your opinions on the trajectory of your whole life.”  

“I know,” she sighed.

“But,” he cut in with a little grin, “what I’m about to say is a fact, not an opinion, so it’s fine – right?”

He paused then, dark eyes fixed on hers as he made sure she was about to hear, really hear, every single word he was about to say. Whatever he saw looking back at him was good enough for his liking, and he continued.

“Me n’ you are gonna take this world by storm. You hear me? Real power couple shit. They won’t know what hit ‘em. And we’re gonna do it together. Yeah?”

“Do you never doubt?” she asked fondly.

Eddie grinned – that wide, brilliant grin that lit up his face, the room, and the world they were about to take by storm – and then he answered, leaning in so they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Us? Never.”

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[andsheoverthinks]

mere words cannot express my longing for closeness...

this is an unpopular opinion most likely, but i truly believe the 'self-love' 'self-help' 'bad bitch' 'girlboss' movement of the late 2000s and the 2010s has contributed in a large part to the general misery of young people.

idk about you but it personally FUCKED ME UP big time.

i was at a point, during the ebb and flow of depression over my (very recent) teen years, where i didn't feel like i deserved to have feelings.

i used to do this thing i called 'five minutes of self-pity' where i would allow myself five minutes per day to break down and etc.

i pathologised my longing for closeness and intimacy with other human beings, which exacerbated my loneliness because i found my loneliness shameful.

it got to a point where i repressed my sexuality (even though i am cishet and thus 'socially acceptable'), partially because being a black girl and having a skin condition (atopic dermatitis), i didn't feel like i deserved to have sexual or romantic feelings due to not reaching what i believed was the acceptable level of attractiveness, and feeling rejected even though i had never actually expressed feelings towards anyone.

and then i realised that a lot of my depression came from these feelings of social rejection (partially because i was bullied for years as a kid), and, being a neuro major, i learned that humans are social animals and my overwhelming desire for closeness and acceptance was normal.

it was healthy.

love (platonic, romantic, familial, what have you) and belonging is our primary need once our survival need is fulfilled. hunger for love is no less necessary than hunger for food. of course i hated myself, the way i was living, suppressing my very basic needs.

recently, i've been doing this thing where i allow myself to have feelings (lol). i allowed myself to have romantic and sexual feelings for a friend and asked them out. it didn't work out, and i let myself wallow in self-pity. i cried myself to sleep. i miss them so much it hurts. i still listen to their favourite songs to feel close to them and reminisce about the times we spent together and that's okay, that's not clingy or pathetic or weird. i will grow around the little holes people i love leave in me, and i will always cherish them. they will always be beloved.

recently i've been doing this thing where i hug my friends, and spend time with them, and reach out to them, and i've stopped trying to be 'happy on my own' all the time because i've tried that, i've tried sitting alone in cafes and museums and riverbanks but the memories are so much more precious with the people whom you love.

all this, though honest, feels empty still; for mere words cannot express my longing for closeness, and that is a fact that i am no longer ashamed of.

anyway, hoping that if this reaches someone like me -- your longing for closeness is not trivial, or pathetic, okay? your brain needs love to function well as much as it needs glucose and cholesterol :P

[dr-felitas]

AQUARIUS

synopsis: in which the both of you get partnered for a mission, but not just as work partners.

pairing: chūya nakahara x fem!reader | wordcount: 2.7k | content & warnings: fluff, mention of chūyas past , choppy writing + no proofead (you can tell when i got lazy + its 3am does it looks like im gonna proofread), unestablished relationship, they work at the pm, cursing (son of a bitch), chūya calls reader a term of endearment once (doll), dual pov | prompt: fake dating | onseshot

event: STARCROSSED 2024

tags: @azullumi hi beloved super cool azul ure so super duper cool. dont flip out but azul liked and rbed ur posts. me: (whys theres no backflip emoji) (we're literally friends). but omg i acc dont have friends im a mess im a loser im a hater im a user

a/n: i finished this at 3am also boo gingers perish /j. hope yall enjoy!!

“so? what are we here for, boss? 

the auburn haired man asked. his left hand is glued to his side, resting on his gray waistcoat, his right hand was loosely shoved into the pocket of his dress pants. chuuya cocked his head to the side as he questioned your boss. 

“i’ve made my decision.” 

the man who was seated in front of you in his claret bergère chair announced. his slender fingers were encased in white adhesive gloves. the palms of his hands were facing down as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, magenta eyes flickering from chuuya and then to you before exhaling quietly and closing his eyes, pale skin draping over his eyes.

“after some back and forth, i’ve come to the conclusion that the most suitable person for this mission will be our dear miss [name]. she’ll be your plus one to the ball, accompanying you to your mission thus also carrying it out with you. gather information about our target and return as soon as possible. understood?” 

the man before you asked, a playful smile had found its way on his face and his head was slightly angled to the side as he awaited your agreement. 

“understood.” the both of you said in unison. chuuya took off the fedora that was placed atop of his head with his left hand and put it onto his chest as he closed his eyes and the both of you bowed down.  

“very well then. i await good news.” mori continued to smile as he gestured to both of you to take your leave by waving.

-

when you arrived back home, you immediately spotted two big boxes that were placed in your living room. one of them included a gorgeous dress, although it was a bit plain - a monochrome dress, it was beautiful nevertheless. as you stood up to see how the piece of clothing would fit you, you took notice that it was quite long, the expensive fabric immediately meeting the floor. the material of the dress was sewn a bit tighter to make the waist stand out a bit more. 

the other box contained a pair of matching heels in the same color. they weren’t too extravagant but still it seemed like the boss went all out when choosing the clothes. admittedly, you were a bit excited to see what chuuya would wear, would his outfit match with yours?

even though the both of you have worked together in the port mafia for so long and have been executives for a couple years now, the both of you never went on missions together, at least not when it was just the two of you. 

chuuya gained the title of portmafia executive at the ripe age of 16, one year after he had joined the portmafia. while you on the other hand have only been an executive for a few years now. chuuyas strength is immense, not only the power of his ability but also his physical strength. he's not only respected but also feared among the members of the portmafia. 

so to say that you were a tad bit nervous would be an understatement. 

-

you set foot inside the big mansion, stepping towards the ballroom that was located right behind the doors of the entrance. a big chandelier adorned the ceiling, it illuminated the big room in a saffron-like color. the kaleidoscopic marble floor glittered beneath the opaline light and the large windows were shielded by white translucent curtains, behind them the moon and the stars were sparkling gracefully.

but they don't compare to chuuya - not in the slightest. he’s dressed in a suit that matches your dress, beneath his blazer there was a waistcoat and he doesn't wear his fedora or any other hat.

chuuyas eyes glow like a sapphire, the azul pair of eyes hides so much beneath them, they reach until the depths of the ocean, that is full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered - just like chuuya.

chuuya tenderly held your gloved hand with his left one, leading you to the side of the dance floor where everyone else stood, drinks in their hands as they chattered and laughed. the both of you came to a halt and the conversations stopped, attention solely on you and chuuya.

“my, some new faces. and who might you be? an elderly woman asked, as she took a small sip of her champagne.

“well, my name is chuuya nakahara. it's a pleasure to meet you.” he reached out his right hand to shake hands with the elderly lady. “ah i see. well then, nice to meet-” “the pleasure is all mine!” before she was able to finish her sentence someone interrupted her, chiming into the conversation. you turned your head over to the source of disturbance, a young man who was dressed in all white, hair a bit unkempt as he gave you a boyish smile. 

“the pleasure is all mine!” the man repeated happily. “well, i'm sure it is.” chuuya murmured under his breath, giving the man a look that said “we heard you the first time.”

“may i ask who the lovely lady next to you is?” the man asked excitedly as if he had a hard time waiting. “oh you may.” chuuya responded in a faux courtesy tone. “she’s my spouse, my wife actually.” chuuya held up his left hand that was still intertwined with yours. 

“chuuya..” you glanced at him from the side, whispering through gritted teeth, as you continued to smile nicely at the other people who were conversing and you could only listen. 

“hm what is it?” the auburn haired answers, slightly raising his eyebrow as he turned his head to face you.

“it was supposed to be girlfriend, the boss never said anything about being married.” your voice croaks a bit, overall it seems like tonight your voice has betrayed you, sounding awkward everytime you exchange a word with chuuya. 

“oh.” chuuya uttered.

“yeah, oh.” you sighed. the man seemed to take his leave and you continued your talk. “well, what's done is done. it doesn't matter now. let's just continue, carry out the mission successfully and report back to the boss.”

“yeah.” chuuya nods in agreement. “let's split up for now and gather intel and information about our target.” 

“alright, i'll go to the other side of the room then and you stay here?” you ask. 

“sure thing.” chuuya responds and calls over the waiter, asking for a small glass of wine, so he can pass the time a bit and doesn't only have to mindlessly listen to their boring conversations. after the waiter takes his leave, chuuya notices that you’re still here, next to him. glued to your place, not moving an inch. 

“wasn't it your idea to split up? why are you still here? he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “well, you see, i was trying to. but, someone's hand has been holding onto mine very tightly for the past minutes and won't let go.” 

chuuya seemed to catch on pretty quickly and immediately let go of your hand. “m’sorry.” he mumbled. “ah, don't worry.” you cast him a small smile before leaving and step towards the other side of the room. 

chuuyas eyes can only follow you. (they always have.)

-

after you left, his hand felt empty. 

(but it's not like they’ve ever felt complete. he hides his hands to conceal his ability, the one that causes tumult and destruction, the one that makes him question if he can even be considered as human. his humanity is one thing chuuya still struggles with, it haunts him like a hunting animal, a wolf running and seeking out its prey, shredding it into pieces and devouring it without any mercy. but in this case chuuya can't help but wonder if he's the wolf who always seeks for the prey - the validation and the reassurance if he's human or if he's the prey that gets tormented by the constant feeling of knowing that he’ll never be (human) enough. for others, himself and you.)

the wine glass that he now holds in his left hand doesn't compare to your hand, it doesn't fill the endless void that chuuya sinks into. (he wonders when he’ll completely be devoured by it and eventually drowns.) your hand was the one that held out to him, the hand that’d pull him out of it, if he himself wasn't able to do so. 

(chuuya is used to doing everything on his own, everything that once belonged to chuuya was stripped away from him, like a sheep that has its pelt ripped away from a wolf. his family, his friends, his humanity, they were once his. chuuya nakahara also belonged to him once - now he belongs to the port mafia. it has always been like that; it will always be like that.)

he can't help but grip his glass in envy as he watches you from across the room as you ecstatically laugh and chatter with a woman your age, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself, having the time of your life.

the way you laugh, move around so that the frills of your dress twirl with you, and eyes glimmer make you look majestic. 

to chuuya you're not an outworldly creature like an angel that was chosen by the gods and descended from the heavens or a fairy that has magical powers to bewitch him. 

you’re human - you’re more human than anyone else chuuya has ever encountered in his life, perhaps that is when chuuya really realized what it meant to be a human.

the raw and pure nature of humans was perfectly depicted in you.

the way you flawlessly managed to do every task you were assigned with and always came back with a bright grin plastered across your face, the way you always looked out for everyone, the way you sometimes went completely batshit during missions. you’re what chuuya has always imagined under being a human. (or perhaps all of his beliefs of being human have changed as soon as he saw you.)

you’re the large white and empty canvas that waits patiently until it gets filled with tons of colors. chuuya is the artist who holds the paintbrush in his hand, fingers trembling as he draws paint strokes along the canvas. pouring his heart out into the painting, vivid colors full of emotion, that say more than a thousand words ever could. chuuyas art makes paintings come to life - you. his muse, whom he could stare at for an eternity during an art exhibition, just like now during the ball.

you’re beautiful.

“mr. nakahara?” a male voice made him snap out of his haze, upon seeing who it was, chuuya almost spat out the red wine. great, it was the guy from before. “yes? how can i help you”? chuuya gives him an unimpressed look as he twirls the alcoholic liquid in his glass around. “I just wanted to ask if i’d be permitted to dance with your spouse. she's a really lovely woman, i felt quite bad for her because you didn't invite her to one single dance yet, even though you're her husband!” the man looks at him unapologetically. 

son of a bitch.

but again, who was chuuya to judge? chuuya isn't in any position to forbid you to dance with someone, after all, the two of you weren't even together, the two of you were just partners, work partners to be precise. 

still, there was something that stirred inside chuuyas gut that made him feel uneasy. an ugly feeling that made his gut churn. is this how jealousy feels? sure, chuuya has felt jealous a few times. seething in envy as he saw people with good relationships to their friends and families, people who were allowed to live a normal life, living just like a normal civilian, doing normal things, without having to worry. chuuya couldn't help but feel jealous. 

but this time  it's another type of jealousy, he’s not jealous of other people because they own something he doesn't but he’s jealous of the people who’re just as smitten for you as him.

“ah, well you see. i was just about to go and ask her for a dance. please excuse me.” his words are bitter and the glass of red wine is long forgotten, placing it onto the round table which is covered by a big white table cloth. 

chuuya makes his way over where you stand, your cheeks are tinted in a rosy color, from the alcohol he assumes. your hair is a bit disheveled, have you played with the strands of your hair? but nevertheless, you continue to shine as beautifully as ever.

he tips you onto your shoulder and upon that you slightly flinch and turn around, eyes widening a bit when you see chuuya. “what are you doing here?” you whisper.

the auburn haired man doesn’t respond to your question, instead he bows down and reaches out his hand out to yours. “may i ask for this dance? after all, it takes two to tango.” chuuya thanks the gods that instead of facing you right now, he's facing the floor. he's not sure if he'd be able to bear it if you saw his flushed face. 

your mouth shapes into a little “o” before responding. “sure.” you hum as you happily place your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. upon feeling your touch, chuuya immediately pulls you towards the dance floor. your movements start off clumsily but chuuya helps you gain and maintain your balance, swaying you around the dance floor and twirling you around, as the both of you dance hand in hand. one of his hands is placed on your waist and your hand has found its home on his shoulder.

chuuya continues to sway you around during a slow classical music piece. “i'd prefer some  hard rock music.” you can hear chuuyas' little remark and cant help but laugh upon that, it distracts you from keeping your balance and tempo, almost tripping over the long fabric of your dress.

“careful, doll. you're gonna slip.” chuuya whispers. his warm breath fans against your ear, the heat rises through your whole body, making you shudder and your goosebump hairs stand up. you can only hum at that, too taken aback by the term of endearment, to properly respond. 

the both of you slow your pace, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands snaking around your waist to sway around. you put your forehead against his chest first, until you fully lean into his embrace. 

this moment feels too intimate. that’s everything chuuya can think about, he’s scared that one day you too will also be ripped away from him, he doesn’t want that. chuuya likes you a lot, he adores the way you hum the sweet melody against his chest, the way your hands accidentally keep slipping off his neck but still return there every time, the way you sometimes step onto his foot but he stays quiet, yeah he’s absolutely whipped for you - he loves you. 

but, is someone who’s out of this world, a non-human, who only moves in the shadows of the world, allowed to love a human, who lives their life freely?

chuuya doesn't know. 

your line of work is dangerous, you could always encounter dangers that’d have a terrible outcome and chuuya wouldn't be there to prevent them, again, he’d lose everything that makes him human. chuuya isn’t sure if he’s able to live through this once again. 

the both of you are work partners, crossing this line would come with its consequences.

but he allows himself to indulge in this moment, just this once. humans are greedy and selfish aren't they? it's in their nature. so being selfish for once, just this one time, just for you, wouldn’t mean committing a sin, would it?

chuuya buries his face into your hair, inhaling your shampoo, it smells sweet - the saccharine scent makes him relax. he presses a chaste kiss on top of your head, before gently continuing to sway you around. 

after all, this is what work partners do, right?

e/n: tbh i didnt like this at all. it was so choppy just sentence after sentence without a real plot imo. i just didnt like how this turned out at all but i dont think id be able to write smth else or else itd turn out even worse

© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[miekasa]

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

[muffindaddystyles]

LOST IN ITALY.

Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

Flatulent gust of breezy wind kept wiggling through Harry’s coffee lovelocks, sunshine bounces against his soft skin and his pink heart-shaped mouth stays puckered as he takes in the beauty of his surroundings with his cheek smashed over his wrist – which’s resting atop the rooftop of yacht and his head perks up puppy like when tufty giggles maroons in his ears.

He gazes his cute assistant from under his ray bans and skims back a timid smile when her face beams with glee, her cotton puffy sleeved sundress blows away from the breeze giving glimpses of her plump thighs and Harry sucks in a breath snapping his eyes away.

“Harry look s’beautiful!” She squeals taking another picture of landscape with her grandpa's vintage Yoshika camera and Harry just rumbles his lips, shrugs and slumps back, a lazy mumble of “mehhh” elicits past his lips.

She’s just so endearing, and cute and fucking adorable it’s hard for Harry to keep from not babying her.

When he first went to sets of My Policemen he considered her rather unprofessional, as everyone kept on finding her but it seemed like she vanished into thin air, turned out when Harry took a break in his cubby she was lighting up saffron and black scented candles, “Oh! Thought you’d like comin' back to nice smelling room —-- holy fudge .... by the way, me Y/N your new assistant for the meantime.” His all grumpiness defused into bunch of reverence for her.

She'd always beat him to bringing in brekkie and smoothies for him and her fellows, sometimes giving him the velvet muffins before he goes back home --- Harry became such a drooly lovey puppy for her that he decided to keep it stern from then.

He’s trying. He’s prolly gonna fail.

Y/N isn’t very immune to water trips and she was well aware that a sickness is coming – but so soon? She didn’t know that!

So, when she chokes onto nothing and then gags driving Harry into fritz. Harry tries to keep his balls in place and not panic because that’d just spill his secret and expose him.

He quickly facades himself under stoniness, “Christ! Y/N if you die on me —-,” Though, grabs her elbow lightly and walks her to the edge of the deck.

Y/n smacks his hand away. Glares him and grunts pushing her hair away aggressively, “Don’t tell me what to do I’ll die wherever the hell I want!” His pupils resembling to that of clashing waves of sea blows away comically as she huffs and pushes past him.

“Better die and ghost you for life.” She gags into her elbow again and he rushes to grab her hand, when she pulls away with a tut he rolls his eyes brings his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at her from under the brown sunnies, “Jeez just holdin' a hand, not gonna slip a ring, ‘s that what yer afraid of.”

“Just admit you’re desperate to hold my hand.” She smirks up at him and he cackles, then dims into nervous chuckles because oh fuck he’s getting caught red handed.

“No.” He mutters.

How much she resists not to pout and turn all fussy over his denial she ends up doing so and it’s his turn to smirk cheekily at her.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” He wiggles his finger at her and she grumbles folding her arms infront of her bosom and cranes her head to side, “I’m not mad.”

“Yer pretty face’s all screwed up, like you’re mad.” He nibbles at her and she glowers him --- sighing at last, the wisp of her hair falling in her eyes, her lips plush and glossy from sick.

“I’m perturbed, not mad.”

Then there’s an overrated pause of silence and heartbeats before Harry pokes her knee.

“You still look mad.” His face splits into a wide cheeky grin – showing his bunny teeth and she stands up hastily wobbling a little.

“’M’not mad! But I’ll be soon Harry Styles!!!!” She goes for smacking him at chest but he jerks back and sneaks his way out squealing annoyingly, “Mommy come save me from this feisty sea-creature.”

“You mean a mermaid?” She giggles.

“No. Frogfish.” He deadpans.

“I’m not talking to you ever again!” She cries out and turns away from him but he barks out a laugh --- riling her up is the most entertaining thing and seeing her make cute fussy faces another.

“’Kay, sorry! Wouldn’t do it again.” He toddles behind her and glides his forearm against her clavicles bringing her to his front, “Says this everytime!” She squirms pushing him away but he’s ten times stronger than her and even if she’s ... she’d want to spend some more time like this.

“Wouldn’t call ye' frogfish —-.. from now on.” She nods. Humming in agreement and he turns her, holding her from shoulders and looks down at her with glinting eyes and wide toothy mouth.

“How ‘bout blobfish? They look more funny.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Harry Styles!”

..

They were given a loft infront of the shore 10 minutes drive away from the shooting place and after fighting over who'll occupy the bed, bickering and pillow fighting over it and almost making it creaky loose bench Y/N went back to living room telling him that he snores so much, “Sorry but ‘m too sensitive to piggy snorey noises – better sleep outside.” He was fuming and gritty mess, flailing his limbs like a baby because he was “the hair on his directors head” away from sharing the bed with her.

“Whateva! your loss. Don’t come t'me beggin’ to pop your backbones.” He told her in high pitched mimickness and flumped under cool sheets.

His one hour nap turned into two then three. In the meantime, Y/N made a sandwich from the fresh veggies piled in the fridge, sipped onto her matcha drink sitting beside the window and enjoyed he view, even went through her socials.

Realized that she’s missing him around her terribly even if it’s just jokes and giggles and shit, whatever, so she took her camera and went outside to take pictures of shore and the purple sky battling with hue of clouds.

She got so charmed with Italy's beauty that she kept on walking and taking pictures, only to realize when the bustle of crowd dropped into tranquil quietness and she found herself into some unknown street.

She’s fucked.

She’s lost.

She has got nothing,

Not even her phone.

She contemplates to knock on the house doors and ask for locations but she’s petrified of the idea and tries to find some shop, so she could call someone and ask them to pick her up.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumbest decision, she has ever taken in her life.

When she sees no passer by, none tourists no-one in sight and the daylight defusing and darkness laughing and taunting her tears springs in her eyes --- bubbling at the corners and weeping down furiously.

Her heartbeats drops dead when she sees a group of men approaching towards her. She runs away hiding into the dark tunnel and clamps her mouth shut from crying out loud when they walk away -- they weren’t about to do anything to her – it was just her feared instincts.

“Harry ......” She whisper-cries into her wrist, her legs weak and trembly making her tumble down into dusty stoned pavement, her back getting scratched from the bricked wall of tunnel.

..

Harry woke up to pin-drop silence. Void of the sun that was once glimmering through the window, “Y/N.” He grogs out, knuckling the sleepiness away and trudged out finding the room empty.

It startles him. Waking him up properly now. A sweat flushes down his spine when he couldn’t even find her in the washroom and at the door-steps.

He dials her number and finds it at the coffee table, gruff cruses breathes out from his mouth at that.

FuckFuckFuckFuck.

His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it mercilessly in their grip when he goes outside, but couldn’t spot her and he finds it difficult to breathe, chest heaving as he snaps his head in every direction to look for the face he’s oh so in love with.

Where are you, Y/N?

Maybe, she’s angry with me? Did I hurt her in any way? Oh, fuck. I’m such a bitch.

Now, she’s angry with me and hiding in some corner cursing me out.

I have to bring her back.

So, he calls anyone in connection with Y/N in hopes that she’s with anyone of them and when there were, “no mate --- maybe check in the washroom...” and “last time she texted, said she’s going out to take pictures.”

Harry’s face pales at that. Sick to his stomach. His fists tighten by his sides to keep his calm the world around him spins for a moment and he stables himself with the nearby railing.

Bad thoughts spirals in his mind, how much he avoids them it frightens him like his worst enemy.

What if she’s hurt? It hurts him in heart even to think that.

Got into an accident and they took her?

Fuck.

What if some mafia has kidnapped her.

Obviously, Italy is famous for mafias ..... No!No!No! Harry shut up, shut up, shut uppppp!!

He screams internally to pause everything and think rationally.

He searches for her everywhere. In every street. His feet hurting until now and he chokes onto a sob, not even wanting to think of getting police involved and still not able to have her back.

He shouts for her name. Halting past anyone looking like her, that mini dress she flaunted infront of him with a gorgeous smile –-- asked him how it looked on her and he wasn’t very interested to give a response.

If he could take all of it back and praised her like his life depended on it, only if he’d told her how much he loves her, her making sure he’s comfortable in his cubby, her bringing cold milk drinks for him, dividing her oreos with him.

His hands shakes by his side, his lip twitching constantly and his legs trembles pathetically with each step he takes.

He stops. Narrows his eyes to squint through the darkness and he feels like someone blew oxygen back in his lungs, his knees weakening at the sight of some girl sitting on the bench, her shoulders slump and her head downwards as she clutches the edge of bench, rocking on it with quite sniffles.

He prays that it’s her.

Upon, hearing the footsteps Y/N looks up and those sweet eyes are enough for him to recognize her in between many people.

“Harry?” Her voice feeble and scared.

“Oh baby .....” He mumbles. Rushing towards her, stumbling back a bit when she flies in his arms and latches to him like the missing piece of her body.

His palms curves into her ribs, her face smashed into the crook of her neck – her tears wetting his skin instantly and his cheek squished atop her sweaty hair, he hugs her for dear life making her legs dangle in the air, she sobs nuzzling deeper into his throat and he caresses her shoulders to soothe her cries down. Kisses the side of her temple with tender affection and sighs in relief.

“Shhh. Shh baby, ‘s okay. I’ve found y’now ..... ‘m here sweetheart ‘s alright.” He doesn’t stop splodging soft pecks to her forehead – scared that if he’ll she’ll get lost from his arms again.

Her hiccups painful not letting her take a breather and Harry puts her down on her feet gently, taking her face in his clammy hands and hooks his thumb into her hair gazing into her glassy eyes intensely, “Hey look at me lovie’ just .. focus on me alright?” She nods at his plea grabbing his wrists and follows his breathing pattern.

He glances back at the bench and goes to grab her camera but she cries out fisting the hem of his corduroy shirt in her tiny hands, “No!” could barely choke out from her dry throat and he turns his attention back down onto her, strokes the rosy apple of her cheeks and pets her head.

“Not leavin’ yer side baby .. was bout to get your camera fo’ you. Could come with me if you don’t like stayin' away.” He assures her softly and trots towards the bench with his arms still around her as she keeps on hiding her face into his bicep.

They walk down the street like that, she has calmed down letting a sniffle slip here and there --- this kind of scenario has never happened to her before – she has never been outside of her home city before too.

He feels her tummy screech for food so asks her, chin butted atop her head, “You’re hungry, petal. Let’s get pizza.” She doesn’t feel like eating though. When she shakes her head – squeezing him more. He takes her from shoulders looking down at her with gentleness and brushes a strand of hair behind.

“Just a tad, darlin'. I know a delicious take away round the corner ... could eat it sittin' by shore.” He offers her with a smile and punches the air happily, whistling when she agrees.

When she giggles softly, defrosting back from numbness Harry spins them a little overly gleeful.

“Got me sweet girl back.” He exclaims ducking down to kiss her cheek and now when she’s less wobblish, her lungs fills with bunches of butterflies.

Blush splatters on her features. As Harry aligns his tanned arm with her delicate one and locks their fingers together lulling it backs and forth between them lovingly.

He keeps her tucked under his chin and snuggled in his arms all the time, even while waiting in the line for the take away.

“Ow!” Squeaks, “Ow. Ow.” Jumps on his tippy toes upon balancing the hot pizza on his palm.

Grins like a mad man when succeeds in making her laugh, takes her hand and helps her climb down slippery stones.

Goosebumps arises on her skin from shyness when he coils his strong arm around her to pick her up, with pizza in his other hand and giggles breathily in her ear upon hearing her squeals.

She sits in between his knees. Leans against his chest and inhales his woodsy vanilla scent, nibbles onto the crust while hearing his heartbeat.

“You scared the living hell out of me, lovie’ ... thought —-... thought I’d never be able to have you back again ... proper vanished.” He croaks out. Runs his nose up and down the sweet curve of her neck.

“Made me realise ... that I don’t want to be away from you, ever.” Y/n's breath hitches at that and she turns in his embrace. Looks at him with surprised doe eyes and coos when his eyes gloss over with wetness, that he’s forcing to keep at waterline.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“You do?” She gasps.

He bobs his head giddily, “Can you picture it? You and I together?” He murmurs mellow street light dancing between them.

“’Us'? I like the sound of that....” She smiles searching for his hand and he grasps it eagerly like he was yearning for it.

“Kay then, when could I take you on a date?” He grins. Dimples mauving deep and pretty.

“This isn’t a date?”

“We’re in Italy. The sky's so romantic and I’ve got you, seems like a date to me....” She peppers kisses to each rosy gap of his knuckles and his inside bursts like they never did before.

“Kay then. It’s memorable too, you got lost on our first day –--”

“Harryyyy....” She whines nudging him in belly with her elbow. “’Kay we could change that.” He laughs. Showering her in kisses and her laughs whirls loudly into quite air, trying to squirm away from his tickles.

[caitimetravels]

she's insignificant

chapter 4: run girl run

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"you will be working on locating number five instead" reginald instructed the young girl. she raised her head in shock.

"what?" 

"come, we must work in solitude" he ignored her confusion, uncaring for her feelings as usual. he lead her down the stairs. she only remembered coming down here once as a child, it was when vanya was sick. reginald showed her to a vault like room. she stared at it, unsure.

"you will be training down here from now on, your siblings will not disrupt you down here" 

the h/c haired girl stared at the room with wide eyes. her siblings wouldn't disrupt her or she wouldn't disrupt them..?

————————————————–

"like i said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. without the client's consent i simply can't help" lance biggs sat in his office chair, staring at klaus as he talked. five stood beside the chair y/n sat in, hands in pockets and annoyed.

"well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name" five leaned in, gritting his teeth.

"well, that's not my problem" lance shrugged, "sorry, now there's really nothing i can do so.." 

"oh, what about my consent?" klaus looked up now, gaining five and y/n's attention. what was he doing? "who gave you permission to lay your hands on my son?"

"what?" the other three people in the room all spoke in unison. 

"you heard me" 

"i didn't touch your son" lance argued, glancing at five.

"oh, really?" klaus begun to lean forwards, moving to stand up. "well then how did he that swollen lip then?" 

"he doesn't have a swollen lip-" lance was cut off as klaus struck five across the face. five touched a hand to his now bleeding lip, glaring at klaus in confusion. 

"and, what about my daughter? how dare you lay a hand on her. she's so sweet and innocent" klaus turned to y/n now, gesturing to her. she awaited a hit now, sure he was going to punch her. "how could you assault her like that?" and just as she thought he slapped a hand across her face, leaving a bright red hand print.

"i want it. name please, now" klaus turned back to lance, leaning on his desk. the doctor raised a shaky finger at him.

"you're crazy" 

"you got no idea" klaus laughed breathlessly before taking notice of the snow globe resting on the desk. he picked it up smiling as he read it. "'peace on earth' that's so sweet" y/n jumped in surprise as he smashed it over his head, groaning in pain. he held his hands to his face for a moment before looking back up, hair dripping with water and glitter. blood dripped down the side of his head.

lance quickly dialled a number into the phone, lifting it to his ear. he was still in shock, "i'm calling security- what are you doing?!"

y/n stood and gently gripped five's blazer sleeve, pulling him back as klaus ripped the phone from lance's grip. five glanced at her in confusion but then realised what was happening as he barely missed an elbow to the face as klaus dramatically cried into the phone.

"there's been an assault in mr biggs office and we need security now, schnow!" klaus slammed the phone back onto the table before leaning close to lance. "here's what's gonna happen grant"

"it's lance-"

"in about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and they're gonna wonder what the hell happened and we're gonna tell them that you, beat the shit out of us" klaus breathed for a moment standing up straight now, staring the doctor down. "you're gonna do great in prison grant, trust me, i've been there. little piece of chicken like you, oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a.. you're gonna do great, that's all i'm saying" klaus waved his hand, smiling.

five smirked now, proudly standing beside klaus. y/n nervously stood behind five, watching over his shoulder.

"jesus, you're a real sick bastard" lance stared up at him, stunned. 

"thank you" klaus spat out a piece of glass.

————————————————–

"focus, number eight!" reginald shouted once again, frustrated as she failed once again to find her missing brother. she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying to ignore his insults. 

it had been almost 6 years since five had disappeared and around 1 since ben died. she had spent that year working on finding her brother only to be unsuccessful. it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth, she didn't know how her father expected her to find him.

she needed to focus. her eyes glazed over again as she opened them, turning black for the sixth time that hour. her hands glowed a soft white colour in her lap as her powers worked. she couldn't hear her father anymore. 

she opened her eyes slowly to see destruction. where was she? she notices a store behind her, flames still burning endlessly upon rubble. carefully she walked into what was left of the department store. there sat a mannequin in a white top with black dots, only the top half of the mannequin was still undamaged, she had a single arm and no hair but what was left of her body was fine. suddenly someone walked through y/n. she stared at the boy for a moment, recognising him as her missing brother. 

"five..?" 

————————————————–

klaus sat atop the bench while five sat across from lance who searched through the files. y/n stood in between the two, arms crossed and guarded as she watched everything over klaus' shoulder. her face still slightly hurt, hand print clearly visible. 

lance nervously flicked through the file five was looking for before pausing as he read it.

"huh.. that's strange" 

"what?" five snapped impatiently,

"uh the eye, it hasn't been purchased by a client yet" lance looked up at him now, 

klaus jumped off the bench, stepping behind lance. "what? what do you mean?" 

"well, our logs say that the eye with that serial number.." klaus stepped over to his other side and leaned over his left shoulder. "this can't be right, it hasn't even been manufactured yet. where did you get that eye?"

lance, klaus and y/n all looked to five. where did he get that eye?

————————————————–

he was a little older than she remembered but he was definitely the same boy that ran away all those years ago. he didn't answer her voice, not hearing her at all. she frowned, watching as he dug through what was left of the store. he was searching for something useful. 

while he dug through scraps she went back to the beautiful mannequin. she was surprised at how it had managed to stay okay through all of this destruction around them. she reached a hand out to touch her before she heard five's voice. had he seen her?

"five" she smiled, turning to him only for him to walk right through her again. she frowned, why couldn't he see her? she tried to grab his arm but her hand only phased through. she was like a ghost.. where was she? where was five? "five, can you hear me?" she stood in front of him, trying everything to get his attention. 

"five? five!" why couldn't she help him? she just wanted to help. she felt so useless, watching him walk around and gather materials. she couldn't speak to him, he couldn't hear her..

————————————————–

"well, this is not good" five breathed out in annoyance as they exited the building. 

"i was pretty good though right? 'yeah, what about my consent, bitch?'" klaus grinned, giddy as they stepped out. y/n sighed at her brother, trailing behind.

"klaus, it doesn't matter" five snapped, stopping on the last step to glare at him. klaus stopped just after, turning to face him.

"what? what? what? what's the big deal with this eye anyway?" klaus carelessly threw his hand in the air, not at all bothered.

"there's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. they're going to bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it" five spoke seriously, stressed.

y/n's eyes narrowed. that's where he had been..

————————————————–

she felt herself being pulled away, like someone was tugging her. she fought, wanting to stay, she needed to help him. she needed to tell five he could get back, she could help him, she would.

she continued to call for him even though she knew it was useless. she wasn't able to help him no matter how hard she tried. she was like a ghost. five finally stopped rummaging, now noticing the mannequin behind her. 

"how did you.." he spoke softly, he even sounded the same. god, she missed him. she almost broke down again as he walked through her, picking up the mannequin softly. just as y/n faded she reached her hand out, trying to touch him. her hand instead gripped the mannequin. she shouted in pain as she felt like she was being torn apart. she squeezed her eyes shut hoping the pain would stop.

when her eyes opened again she found herself in that same room with her father scowling down at her. he watched her for a moment, for once allowing her to calm down. she slowed her breathing, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, bitterly.

"report, number eight?" reginald asked, impatiently glaring. 

"i.." she paused, she couldn't tell him. she would find five on her own if she had to but she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't. she was a failure. she couldn't tell him she couldn't do it, the punishment would be too great. "i didn't find him.." 

reginald clicked his tongue in disappointment. "you are dismissed until further notice. training will not resume"

"what? but what about five-" 

"number five is gone and you can do nothing to help him if you keep failing, number eight. you are too weak. you are dismissed" he snapped, narrowing his eyes, daring her to talk back again. 

she stayed silent.

————————————————–

klaus paused before ignoring five's ominous tone, "yeah, can i get that twenty bucks like now or what?"

"your twenty bucks?" five stared at him in disbelief.

"yeah, my twenty bucks" 

"the apocalypse is coming and all you can think about it getting high?" five got up in klaus' face, annoyed. how could he not care that the world was ending?

"hey, um.. five?" y/n tried to diffuse the situation before anything could happen. she didn't need another family fight.

"well, i'm also quite hungry" "tummys-a-rumbling, grr" klaus grinned, patting his stomach and imitating gurgling sounds.

"you're useless.." the boy clad in uniform mumbled, incredulous. "you're all useless!" he begun to walk away to the stairs of the building.

"five? hey, come on. i'm sure we can do something else to stop the-" y/n smiled softly, walking behind him, holding his blazer sleeve. klaus interrupted her.

"oh, come on, you need to lighten up, old man" he stayed where he was, exasperated. "klaus!" y/n scolded, sitting beside five only to be ignored. "hey, you know i've just now realised why you're so uptight! you must be horny as hell. all those years by yourself, that's gotta screw with your head, being alone" he acted sympathetic as he sat on five's other side. y/n rolled her eyes, he was definitely just doing this for his money.

"well, i wasn't alone" five stared off while he fiddled with his fingers.

"oh? pray tell" klaus turned, interested.

five looked up now, reminiscent. "her name was dolores, we together for over 30 years" 

"30 years? oh wow, god, the longest i've been with someone was.. i don't know.. three weeks?" five's eyebrows furrowed, bored. he looked around for an escape. "and that's only because i was so tired of looking for a place to sleep-" he noticed a cab driving by and took y/n's hand before blinking into the cab. "he did make the most fantastic ossobuco though, it was.. five? y/n?"  

the pair appeared the back of the cab, scaring the driver. "don't stop. just keep going" five instructed before leaning out the window and saluting condescendingly at klaus.

"hey, hey, hey, hey! what about my money?!" he shook his hand, angrily yelling at them.

————————————————–

"y/n, dear" grace smiled at her, standing in the doorway to the library. her siblings stood around their mother, all ready for bed. she was going to tuck them in. "it's bed time, come now, let's get you ready"

y/n stared at her books for a moment before ultimately sighing and following along. she brought two with her though. diego walked beside her, as grumpy as usual and only there because he was a mommy's boy. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion however at the books in her hands.

"why do you need books on physics and probability?" y/n looked up at him, surprised he was talking to her. usually her siblings ignored her now that she wasn't part of their missions. she stared at him for a moment, deciding whether to tell him or not. with a glance at the cameras in the room she decided against it.

"none of your business" she muttered quietly, curling her arms around the books, holding them to her chest. it gave diego a look at the equations written on her arm though. what was she up to?

he dropped it nonetheless. he didn't care too much if he was being honest, what she did was her business.. for now.

she was going to find him. she had to. with her books splayed out around her she made sure to stay to the quiet corner of the library, the one no camera in this house reached. loose sheets and notebooks filled with equations sat messily in front of her, decorating her wide array of books. if she could only tell five she could help him. he was surely smart enough to figure this out on his own but how long would it take him? she wanted him to come back sooner not later.

"come on, you can do this" she clenched her hands into fists, glowing white as she focused. her eyes turned black and she looked around. she couldn't move, she was stuck. she noticed five walking around but her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to. he walked over now however, did he finally see her? he smiled, taking a seat beside her. she noticed a book in his hand but she couldn't read what it was. he scribbled in it, focused. the only she noticed was that she was sat in red wagon, unmoving and unblinking. what was wrong with her?

five wrote down a few more numbers, showing her what he had written so far. it was similar to what sat beside her earlier. "i've almost got the equations dolores"

what..? her name wasn't dolores? 

she gasped as she was shaken back to reality. looking up she found a concerned looking klaus with diego a few feet behind him.

"oh god" klaus sighed in relief as her eyes turned back to normal. "i thought you died or something"

"idiot, if she was dead her powers wouldn't have been working" diego scoffed although he too looked quite relieved she was okay. 

"what were you doing?" klaus sat beside her now, staring at the numerous equations in front of him.

"what are you doing? shouldn't you be training or something?" she frowned, annoyed at having been caught and interrupted. 

"we asked you first" diego countered, crossing his arms. 

"i was practicing, nothing you should be concerned about" she waved it off, packing up her books and notes.

"it looks like a lot more than practicing, eight" he moved closer, stepping on the sheet she was about to pick up. he leaned over her, watching her carefully. she eyed him back, just as daring.

"you don't know what it looks like, two" she stated calmly, still holding the sheet. 

"c'mon, y/n, just tell us what you're doing" klaus whined, "what are we gonna do? tell dad? we're not luther" 

y/n snorted, remembering the jokes they used to make about luther sniffing dad's underwear. "fine, i was looking for five, dad stopped my training" diego stepped back now, confused.

"why would he stop your training?" 

y/n paused, looking guilty. she glanced nervously between the two of them before waving them down towards her, whispering. "you can't tell anyone.. i lied to dad, i did find five"

"you're kidding" both boys stared at her in disbelief.

"why would you l-lie? w-w-w-what are you going to do if h-h-he finds o-out?!" diego freaked out now, his stutter coming out in his nervousness.

"he's not going to find out. he doesn't care about me now, i'm practically useless to him now" she shrugged,  continuing to stack her papers again. "besides i can't move or talk to five whenever i find him, i just.. exist. i'm like a ghost or something. i still need to figure out how to communicate with him" she sighed heavily. first, she wanted to figure out what book he was reading. she had never seen it before.

————————————————–

"what are we doing?" y/n and five stood outside the department store. 

"i thought i said no questions until later" he raised an eyebrow at her. "we're just here to get something" she shrugged and he held her arm before blinking them inside. they walked around for a moment, using five's flashlight.

"oh my god! five look!" y/n gushed, noticing postcards on a stand. "they have so many cities!" he stared at her for a second, confused by her fascination before remembering she had never really left the house. she gasped suddenly, turning around and holding up a fluffy bunny keychain. "it's so cute!" 

a small fond smile grew on five's face as she took interest in the small, almost useless items that the store had to offer. with a sad look she turned to him, still holding the white bunny keychain. "five.. can i keep it?"

he paused, he was about to take dolores so he didn't see why not. if he said no he would be hypocritical.

"fine. but don't touch anything else, okay? we can't risk getting caught" he nodded before walking away. y/n grinned, hooking the keychain into her belt loop before looking around. 

five finally found dolores, looking up at her. "dolores.. it's good to see you" 

"i've missed you, obviously.. well, it's been a rough couple of days" y/n couldn't see who he was talking to but heard his voice. she frowned, he had gone through a lot. 

suddenly five yelled, "no!" and then there were gunshots. y/n dropped to the floor, praying five was alright. she ducked behind a gardening stand. five appeared beside her and she almost screamed. he held a finger to his lips, shushing her. she nodded, watching as he grabbed a spade, testing it's swing before disappearing again.

she watched as he fought one of the two shooters, slicing their arm before running again. she couldn't see him after that, not until he came back over with a bag, pulling her with him. they ducked down one of the aisles and he tried to spatial jump but it didn't work. he was too tired.

"shit.. come on!" he tried again. in a last effort they ran and jumped over a stall, caught as the lights from the guns shone on them like headlights. both five and y/n froze.

"got him" the one with the pink mask spoke before they were distracted by sirens. five used this to their advantage, pulling y/n out and away from the line of fire. they stayed behind a stand, waiting for the masked shooters to leave before they did themselves.

as they sat y/n finally got a good look at dolores, freezing when she realised she knew the mannequin.

"oh my god.." 

"what?" five furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"you were in a relationship with.. a mannequin?" she looked up at him in disbelief. the mannequin was not her issue though.

"look, if you have a problem-" he glared, ready to defend himself but she shook her head.

"no, no. i get it.. it's just.. " she trailed off awkwardly.

"what?" he snapped, getting impatient.

"five.. my soul was in that mannequin"

tags: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1

[allthingsarmin]

nerd!armin x popular bimbo girl!reader?

the reader needs a tutor so she asks the smartest boy on campus and they have a “study session” in the library

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it! (ALSO: I’m so sorry this took so long to write omgmgg please forgive me) ~ I also would like to write a better version of this later. Though I'm in love with this prompt, I feel I didn't write the smut part that well.

Minors DNI! NSFW below the cut. Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader.

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At this point, Armin’s legs were burning, his heart racing and hands uncontrollably shaking, while you were practically out breath, your lungs tightening as you released yet another hearty laugh and not caring about the sweat running down your forehead. Neither you nor Armin expected to be running away from the librarian at 2am in the morning on the cold, campus sidewalk, your hair and makeup questionably messy and his shirt noticeably unbuttoned with hickeys staining his neck. However, the thrill of it all was something you didn’t know you both needed…

Earlier:

“Y/n?” Armin questioned, waving his sharpened pencil in front of your face. “Are you paying attention?” He awkwardly laughed as he scratched the back of his neck. You look up at him, battering your mascara-covered eyelashes at him. “Ahh… I have no idea what’s going on,” you sighed.

Armin wanted to bang his head against the library table. He knew it would be difficult teaching the ‘campus bimbo,’ but he didn’t know it would be this hard… yet there he was. 1am on a Thursday, the test tomorrow, and you still couldn’t grasp the basics of quadratic functions.

“Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested, loudly dropping his pencil on the table, leaning back in his chair, and adjusting his disheveled collar poking out of his blue sweater.

“Okay!” you giggled mindlessly, turning to face him in your chair as you twirled your hair in your fingers. “Even though I’ll probably fail the test tomorrow, thank you for teaching me!” you exclaimed, fiddling with your compact mirror and checking your dolled-up face.

Armin tensed up at your backhanded words. Pushing his hair back out of frustration, he cursed the fact he was wasting his time with such an ai-headed girl. “Y-you’re welcome,” he hastily said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Why didn’t he say no to your study session - if you could even call it a study session - ? Even though Armin was the school nerd, it’s no surprise to him that you came and asked him for help because, well… Everyone does that - always taking advantage of Armin - only talking to him because they want to use his neat, color-coded notes, only inviting him to parties so that he would later help them study.

You felt bad for Armin. Though you couldn’t deny he was way too uptight, everyone did make fun of him for every little thing; the way he dressed like a professor, how he was always so punctual, the way he was the first to raise his hand when the teacher asked a question, how he came extra prepared to class with extra pencils.

But being so close to him now, this was the first time you realized how handsome he actually was. His turquoise veins protruding from his soft, pale skin… his slender fingers gently holding his flashcards, his toned muscles peeking their way through his rolled up sleeves and making his clothes just a little tight, the sharpness of jawline contrasting with his kind, bright smile, the way his ocean blue eyes stared intently with such passion, and his thick, golden hair growing to his eyebrows, allowing his cute ears to shyly show themselves while his undercut beautifully shaped his face… he was beautiful.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you suddenly asked.

Armin was taken aback by this question. No one had ever asked him this nor did any one seem to have any interest in his personal life whatsoever.

“No,” he paused, “I don’t have time for that stuff…” he trailed off. Armin never had a girlfriend, and thinking about it now, he never really had any crushes. He was way too busy keeping up with his grades, extra curricular activities, and student council. It would be practically impossible for him to keep such close relations with his kind of responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lonely… his arms aching for someone to hold, his heart cold due the absence of warmth of a person he loves.

Armin didn’t bother asking you if you had a boyfriend. You were the most popular person on campus, partying with countless dudes every weekend, hanging out with a large group of girls at the mall nearly every day, your phone buzzing so much during class that your professor told you multiple times to turn it off, and you were pretty - your hair was always done in a pretty style, your makeup (though a bit slutty) always brought out the best features of your face, your nails were always painted, your skin was smooth and silky, and your perfume scent was addicting. Not only that but your clothes showed off your body so well; your skirt that was just a little short allowed people to see your cute panties when you bend over to pick something up, and your shirt that was barely even a shirt was always cropped above your waist and showed off your bouncy, plush cleavage… so of course you had a boyfriend. But even though Armin was an incredibly focused nerd, he couldn’t deny that your sweet smell, tight clothes, and lipstick-covered lips made him lustful.

“Too busy for that stuff?! Aren’t you lonely? It’s like you don’t even know how to have fun,” you chuckle, jokingly hitting his shoulder which happened to be really muscular underneath his sweater.

“Haha yeah,” he said, seemingly uninterested in where you were going with this.

“If you’re so busy, does that mean you don’t have time to masturbate?” you giggled, covering your plump mouth with your hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Armin became extremely flustered as tints of red washed over his body in waves.

“W-what?” he stuttered. “Why are you asking me these questions? We are supposed to be studying!” he quietly shrieked, looking away to break eye contact with you and playing with the watch on his wrist.

“Haha, I am just joking. You’re such a nerdy boy, just want to make you blush,” you sincerely smiled.

“W-well I am a young college student, so obviously I - I do that from time to time thanks to p-porn,” he stammered.

“Woah woah wait. Someone as uptight and rigid as you watches porn?” you harshly laughed, genuinely shocked. You scooted your chair closer to him and leaned into his neck, your hot breath caressing his skin and your hair resting upon his shoulder. “What kind of porn does this nerd like to watch?” you inquired, widely grinning as you saw how embarrassed Armin had become.

On the inside, Armin was fuming, mostling frightened that he had gotten himself into an embarrassing loop with no escape that would most likely be gossiped about amongst the popular students, but mostly angry that some dumb, slutty bitch was wanting to pry into his personal life, not even appreciating the fact that he spent countless hours in the library helping you study to no avail because you couldn’t pay attention if your life depended on it… that this same dumb, slutty bitch was just getting her fun from teasing some nerd who is taken advantage of and forgotten by everyone… angry that you - with your pretty makeup, plump lips, short skirt, and overflowing cleavage - weren’t paying the price for your teasing.

Suddenly, Armin sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing through his clothes, and an aggravated look forming across his face, wrinkling his brows. He quickly takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you close to his face, allowing you to see the different shades of blue in his eyes and his soft, blond eyelashes. His innocent, geeky look is nowhere to be found on his face as he intensely stares into your eyes.

“It just so happens that this nerd likes to watch useless, empty-headed bimbos like you get their pussies abused,” he said, dominance seething from his teeth as his mint breath hits your face. Before you even have time to think, Armin unbuttons his slacks and practically forces your mouth on his hard, pretty cock.

Watching you gag and choke on his cock with saliva dribbling down your chin made him laugh. “You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, slut, we’re in a library remember?” he coos. He abruptly pulls you off his cock, taking in the sight of his lipstick-stained tip and the mascara tears streaming down your face. His treatment was so harsh and so sudden, making you miss the ‘nicer’ and ‘quieter’ Armin, but you couldn’t deny his sudden dominance made your aching cunt flood with arousal.

Before doing anything else, Armin scans the library, making sure no one is around. Grabbing your wrist, he forces you to sit on his lap, facing him on top of the library chair. Everything happened so quickly, barely even leaving you time to think, barely leaving you time to think that Armin was using your body to relieve his anger and frustration, not leaving you time to realize how sopping wet your needy cunt actually was.

Sitting atop his lap, he spreads your plush, soft thighs, exposing the fact that you didn’t wear any panties to this study session, causing Armin’s eyes to widen.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that a whore like you wouldn’t wear anything underneath your short skirt to our little ‘play date,’” he snickers. He leans close to your ear, softly biting your neck. “It’s almost like you were asking to be fucked by me.”

You don’t know what to say. Your mind is so empty, fuzzy, and shocked that the only thing you can do is comply when he demands that you ride his cock. Armin lets out a low groan from the bottom of his throat as your tight, warm pussy encloses his thick cock. You let a pathetic whimper as he begins to thrust up into you, and Armin gives you a glare, reaching up and tightening his hands around your throat. “Remember, you have to be quiet, or are you too dumb to remember that?” he sinisterly smiles.

Armin begins to harshly thrust into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto dear life as he deeply penetrates your spongy, sensitive walls. He slithers his slender hands into your shirt and starts toying with your nipples and pinching them when you’re being too loud.

Groping your ass, he whispers in your ear, “you know, I don’t even know why you’re in college… you’re so dumb. Why don’t you just drop out and be my little slut for when I come back after class, huh?” You sink your head into the crook of his neck, embarrassment coming over you at the same time as pleasure fills your walls when he tells you those mean words.

He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. Your hair is a tangled mess, your makeup completely smeared, and your eyebrows furrowed as your innocent-looking eyes beg for some type of release.

“F-fuck, you look so dirty,” he groans, leaning his head back.

“And you look like two students who are going to be in so much trouble…”

Both of you tense up and look behind you to find the librarian staring daggers into your souls.

Immediately, you hop off of Armin’s dick, gathering your things as he struggles to pull up his pants. Both of you at an ungodly speed bolt out of the library doors. Yeah, getting potentially banned from the library would suck, but maybe it was something you both needed. Armin needed to learn to loosen up, have some fun, and you needed to learn to take things seriously and maybe just put in a little more effort.

“Ya’know, it’s kind of late. We can go back to my dorm, and I can help you study for maybe another half hour… if you want,” Armin shyly asks as you both continue running down the sidewalk.

“What about the other half hour?” you questioned.

Armin’s face grows red. “We can finish… chemistry…”

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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[cantalouupe]

busy

nsfw!!! albedo x f!reader

cockwarming, blowjob, needy!reader, uninterested!albedo

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I’m busy,” Albedo tells you for about the sixth time in the past ten minutes, and your shoulders drop in dissatisfaction. “I’ll take care of you after I finish my research.”

You huff in response because you know he won’t be finished anytime soon. He would stay hunched up in this room forever if he could - and he tries to.

He’d probably be able to if it weren’t for you, his pretty angel who would come bother him for even a sliver of attention. Whether it be just to sit beside him in comfortable silence or to ask him about what he was researching, you were always there with him. You were surprised he wasn’t sick of you by now.

Unbeknownst to you, he adored it - adored you. Loved when you would come to visit him even if it pulled him away from his work, filling the otherwise quiet room with your sweet voice while you leaned your cheek onto his shoulder.

Today, though, you were pestering him a little extra. Heat simmered under your skin and its been so long since he’s touched you and he hasn’t made any move to do so. So you took it upon yourself to get what you wanted.

What you wanted translated into you asking to suck him off while he worked.

“I’ll stop bothering if you let me.” You promise - a lie but he didn’t have to know that - gently trying to push him so you could move in front of him. “I’ll be good, Bedo, please.”

He pauses, letting out a light sigh before sliding himself and his chair backwards to make a space for you.

You beam at him, eagerly crawling and squeezing yourself into the space under the table and between his legs. He watches you intently while you so excitedly kneel below him before reaching out and pushing your hair back and out of your face.

That was the only time he touched you, leaving you to do as you wished while he did whatever he was up to before.

It’s a shame he was so set on research instead of watching you. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth, doing your best to fit him all the way down your throat. Hands splayed out on each of his thighs and your eyes blinked back tears while you tried to accommodate his girth.

You were so messy, too, saliva and precum on your chin - Albedo likes it wet, likes you looking a mess.

The way he didn’t react - besides a few heavy breaths and a small ‘fuck’ that spurred you to take him deeper - made you feel hot and more desperate for him, squirming in your spot between his legs. This wasn’t enough for you, not when you know you could be getting fucked right over the table he was sitting at.

Pulling off him and gasping for air, spit stringing from the tip of his cock to your mouth. Your jaw was sore from it being kept wide open for so long and your throat burned.

“Bedo,” a small, raspy whimper.

A small noise of acknowledgment from him, “hm?”

“C’n I please-“

“I thought you said you would stop bothering me after this?” You wiggled your hips again, whining and wrapping your lips around the wet head of his cock.

“I’ll never get anything done if you keep pestering me like this.”

His hand grabs your jaw, pulling your mouth away from his dick and making you peer up at him. He admires you for a short while, thumb swiping along your slick bottom lip, to which you open in hopes he’ll let you suck on it.

He doesn’t, opting instead to lean back a little more, patting his thigh like he was calling a dog to come to him. Your face burns at that but you don’t pass the opportunity to sit on his lap, crawling up and situating yourself atop him.

You can feel his dick against you, pressing against your cunt, twitching under you at the feel of your wetness. You thank god that he’s so lenient with you, letting you act out your desires with nothing more than amused scolding.

With hands on shoulders, you lift yourself just enough so he can slip himself inside. He hooks his own chin over your shoulder, seemingly drawing his attention back to his work once again.

“That’s better?” He asks whilst writing, but its rhetorical. The way you immediately start rolling your hips tells him all he need, a high chant of “yesyesyes” spilling from you.

A try at making a rhythm was lost quickly, head too cloudy to do more than little desperate jerks of your hips.

Doing all the work was tiring, with Albedo not even shifting his hips to aid you, just letting you pathetically twitch and grind and whimper like a bitch in heat - he’d tell you that, if he was more vulgar, but doesn’t. He’s sure you already know, anyway.

Even though he was quite good at blocking things out, the wet suction and squeeze of your walls around him were a little much, and he had to stop his work to take a breath and calm himself a little.

It unfortunately didn’t do much, the never stopping movements from you becoming something that he couldn’t just ignore.

So he decided on a different course of action.

“You’re distracting me,” he murmurs, grasping you hip with one of his hands, to which they kick forwards. “Stop moving.”

You shake your head, a silent protest at his notion. How mean could he be to make you stop?

A pinch to your side and a simple “what did i say?” were enough to make you think twice.

You let out something akin to a sob, hips shaking as an attempt to keep them still. It was somehow too much and not enough at the same time and it made you want to cry, made you want to tell Albedo how mean he was being right now.

He’s so stubborn sometimes, so set on working and blocking out the rest of the world that even when he wants something he wont get it. You, tearful and pouting, shove your face in the junction of his neck and shoulders and try your hardest to just sit.

“Good girl,” a praise - he knew you were pouting - to keep you from being too upset.

“Just a little while longer, alright?”

[ragingbookdragon]

The Vampire's Masquerade PT. 1

A Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader Story

Word Count: 14,610 Warnings: NSFW (Smut), Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Past Assault and Abuse

Author's Note: I made a story mixing DC and Skyrim and you're going to like it because that's what I've put on your plate. I've chaptered the story but Tumblrs a bitch and I can't post the entire thing so I'm going to do two parts. But it's still going to take forever to read. Enjoy! :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

There’d only been a handful of times in his life where’d he’d been truly afraid. So afraid that his throat would tighten to the point he’d lose air, adrenaline pumping through his veins, making every motion lightning fast, hands and knees shaking for fear of what would come. One hand was all he needed to count that many times, but this made two.

He’d run out of ammunition moments before but even then, it didn’t matter because the bullets didn’t seem to even affect the creatures in the slightest. The All-Blades had been knocked out of his hands from the last hit that had sent him back into the concrete pillar—through it actually and slamming into the wall. Every bone in his body creaked under the strain as he slid down the wall, collapsing onto his side with a low groan that broke into a cough as blood splattered across the cobblestone.

His sides ached with a fury too, and he was still reeling from the fact that it hadn’t been a weapon, but claws—nails—that had slashed through his tri-weave, titanium body armor, like a hot knife through butter. He pressed one hand against his bleeding side and coughed again, clambering to his feet, though he stumbled back to a kneeling position when his left knee gave out.

A hissing laugh echoed around the courtyard and he looked up, glaring at the group coming back towards him, though his anger was short lived when one of them threw their hand down by their side and those silver nails glinted in the moonlight.

“You were foolish to come alone, human,” one of them growled, cocking their arm back, and in a flash, they were coming at him faster than any human could move, even someone like him.

This was it. He was going to die again, and he didn’t even know what was going to kill him.

But he wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t going to shut his eyes at his final moments. He steeled himself, waiting for the nails to pierce his throat when his attacker suddenly reared back with a sharp cry of pain and black blood splattered across his skin as their arm dropped to the ground, severed from their body.

The other creatures gathered around the wounded one and they all seemed to hiss at something darting around in the dark courtyard and behind the pillars. He couldn’t tell what it was because it was too fast—much faster than these things he was fighting. And bigger too. He watched in shock as each creature dropped to their knees then pitched forwards, torsos hitting the ground. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth when their heads rolled away, one tumbling right up to his boot.

They were dead but his relief was short lived as a low growl sounded above him and he drug his eyes up the giant dark mass in front of him and his jaw went slack. At least the things that were trying to kill him looked human, but this thing didn’t. And he only caught flashes in the moonlight as it took a step towards him, and the cobble cracked under the heavy stomp.

It had to be at least eight feet tall and at least seven hundred pounds if that hulking frame was any help. Suddenly it spread outwards and he sucked in a breath when he realized it was the wingspan of its large, gray wings, the tips of them pointed with long black horns. He finally got a full glimpse of its body, covered in a ragged black dress, and adorned with glinting golden jewelry and rubies.

He drew his eyes up to it’s face and he felt his heart stutter in his chest and trepidation burst through his veins at the mouth that was opened, and he saw two rows of serrated white teeth and four, long razor-sharp canines. Its eyes were glowing a crimson, locked on him and it raised an impossibly honed, clawed hand, reaching towards him.

He backpaddled away from it until his back connected with something hard and he looked behind him, seeing the wall.

“Shit,” he cursed and turned back around, and he couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped him when he saw the talons right in front of his face, curled into a fist. “Please,” he begged, and the hand uncurled and before he knew what was happening, a green light shot out of its palm and hit him in the forehead.

Peace washed over him in waves, and he swayed as his eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw was the creature reaching out to him with both hands before it all went dark.

***

He drifted along the edges of unconsciousness for hours until he was finally able to make his body wake up enough to clear the haze from his mind. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was somewhere unfamiliar—the smell around him wasn’t one he recognized, like herbs and sharp metal.

Cracking his eyes open, he caught sight of what looked like a woman standing in front of a table. Her arms were moving, and he couldn’t see what she was doing, but the gentle scrape of what sounded like a pestle and mortar reached his ears. He took a moment to scan his surroundings.

The room was small and quaint, with wine red walls and black furniture, oddities hung on the wall and he squinted when he thought he saw a bird sitting atop a perch. He blinked and sure enough, the bird’s head turned sideways, a single beady eye gazing at him as it tipped its head down.

He started to sit up when he heard, “Don’t move. You’ll tear your stiches.”

She turned and walked over to him, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Silently, she reached down beside the bedside table and he heard splashing, then she brought up a wet rag and started wiping his chest and abdomen.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy from sleep.

Her eyes didn’t shift from his sun kissed skin as she drug the rag over his abs. “My name is (Y/N) Storm-Strider. But you can call me (Y/N). What is your name?” she inquired, softly.

“Jason,” he murmured and a particular spot on his side made him wince and she halted immediately, looking for signs of discomfort on his face. “Are you alright?”

He grunted and shifted slightly. “It’s a little tender.”

She hummed and picked up a little bottle from the bedside table, using her teeth to pull out the cork. “This will sting a bit, but it will help,” she murmured and with one hand, rested the rag beneath the stitched wound, the other pouring the oozing green liquid over the area.

“Shit,” Jason hissed, feeling it sting viciously for a few moments before it started to dull and ultimately numb.

Evidently, she knew what would happen because she smirked and prodded the area with a stiletto nailed finger. “Feel better now?”

He huffed a laugh. “Can’t feel anything actually.”

“Yes, that’s what a paralytic agent will do.”

“I’m sorry, paralytic?” Jason repeated, blinking at her and she nodded.

“It’s paralyzed the nerves in that particular area.”

“What about healing?”

“Oh, that’s the joy of alchemy, darling. If one is skilled enough, they can negate negatives from potions while keeping certain aspects intact.” Suddenly, her eyes turned serious as she stared at him. “To your knowledge, were you bitten by any of the creatures you were fighting?”

“I don’t think—” he went silent, eyes narrowing as he asked, “How do you know that I was fighting?”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Who do you think saved you?”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “You mean that…thing…was you?” she merely smiled in return and he shook his head, feeling dumbfounded. “I thought…I thought you were going to kill me.”

She barked a laugh and rinsed the rag before wringing it again and wiping up his chest. “Hardly, darling. I haven’t killed someone of your kind in at least a few decades.” Her eyes narrowed as she admonished, “But I have to say it was foolish to enter a vampire’s coven with no protection.”

There was so much about that criticism that Jason wanted to open up but only one thing stuck out. “Vampires?”

(Y/N) met his teal eyes and smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, and two pointed canines. “I can hear your heart racing,” she commented, then reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek. “You needn’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you.”

“They did,” he shot back, and she chuckled.

“Well, that’s because you were fresh blood and you stepped into their lair.” She gave him a knowing look. “By all counts they were in their right to slit your throat and feast on your blood.” Her eyes narrowed amusedly. “After they ravaged you alive, of course. Vampires are known for desecrating the living.”

His mouth opened then it closed, and he thought a moment before asking, “If you’re one of them too…why did you kill them?”

(Y/N) hummed and set the rag on the nightstand before taking his face in her hands, tilting it left and right and up and down. She was looking for something, but Jason wasn’t sure what it was. “To be completely honest I’d been planning on it. I was waiting for a better time but when Nevermore told me there was a live human vigilante engaged in a fight with them, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Nevermore?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion, and she tipped her head back to the bird sitting atop the perch.

“Raven.”

He blinked and deadpanned, “You named your raven, ‘Nevermore’?” a snort passed his lips. “Poe fan much?”

She scowled and with her pointers and thumbs, spread his eyelids open so she could examine at his eyes. “It was a fitting name for an elegant bird, smartass.” She shifted her fingers and opened his mouth, looking at his teeth. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Do you remember if one of them bit you?”

After she removed her fingers, he shook his head. “I don’t think any of them did.”

(Y/N) frowned, brows furrowed as she stood from the bed and moved to the window. She unlatched it and pushed them open before turning and holding out her arm.

“Nevermore, come,” she commanded lowly, and the bird landed on her arm. Her fingernails scratched lightly under his chin and she murmured, “Go to the grounds and fetch me some nightshade and bloodroots. We’ll need to concoct a cure for him just in case.”

The raven replied with low croak and flew out the open windows and she turned to him. “Nevermore will come back soon with the ingredients I need to make your cure, but since there will be a wait, I’d prefer you stay so I can monitor your possible condition.”

“You think I might become one of you?” he questioned, forcing himself to sit up despite her earlier warning. Now he was really worried. “How long do I have? What’s going to—”

(Y/N) shushed him with a raised hand. “Peace, Jason. Vampirism is a long process that takes many days. But it takes many painful days.” She replied and moved back to sit on the bed. “You might not be opposed to becoming one, but at the same time, one should choose vampirism for themselves, not fall prey and contract it without their expressed consent.”

She raised a hand and rested it on his chest, just above his heart and promised, “Please do not worry or be afraid. I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a complete recovery.”

Something warm bubbled in his chest, perhaps the sincerity of her words or maybe the calming trust that bled from her auburn eyes that glowed dimly, like embers of a fire.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Jason murmured, cheeks warming as she pulled her hand away and smiled.

“Are you hungry or thirsty at all?” she asked, rising from the bed. “I’d be more than happy to make you something to eat or get you something to drink.”

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted and he shook his head. “No, I think I’ll get some rest if that’s alright with you?”

(Y/N) hummed and opened the door, but just as she stepped out, she paused and turned back around, saying, “You needn’t be scared of anything harming you in this home, Jason. You can rest peacefully knowing you are completely secure.”

He trusted her—which was a first because he didn’t usually trust strangers, but he nodded and offered her a tired smile, one she returned and closed the door behind her. He shimmied back into a laying position, resting his head on the fluffy pillow, his eyes turning to the moon still in the sky. Jason stared at it, all the thoughts of what he’d learned running through his head, and he inhaled deeply, before shutting his eyes, and drifted back into sleep.

***Chapter Two***

Something cold and wet was touching his side and it made him twitch in his sleep, face contorting as he shifted away. He exhaled and his expression eased, but a moment later the cold, wet thing was pressed against his side againand before he could open his eyes, he heard a low whine.

With furrowed brows, he opened his eyes and looked down to his right, seeing a wrinkly faced dog with slobbering jowls propping its chin in the elbow of Jason’s arm, his nose pressed into his skin.

Jason snorted and reached over, scratching the dog behind one of its floppy ears. “And who are you?” The dog shook its neck and the tag on its collar jingled, prompting him to look at it. Fang the Boarhound. It read.

“Really? She named the dog ‘Fang’?” Jason rolled his eyes. “What a bookworm.” He looked down at him. “Fang the Boarhound, huh?”

The dog let out a low groan in response, head shifting to bite at the long pants Jason was wearing. He tugged on the fabric as if telling him to come on and Jason laughed heartily.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up,” he chuckled, and Fang relented, bounding out of the bedroom. He rolled out of the bed and paused to examine himself. Every wound along his body, especially those long gouge marks from the claws had sealed up and he couldn’t fight the impressed feeling that went through him.

He tied the jogger laces tighter around his waist and walked through the door, though he stopped when he was faced with a long hallway and a lot more doors. One was at each end of the hallway and there were two on one side of the hallway, one on the other, and then a rather large opening. Jason figured that was the entry way and he tiptoed down the black carpet.

As he neared the entrance, a big black cat padded out of the opening and sat in front of him, staring up at him with golden eyes. The cat was huge, and he recognized it as a Maine Coon. A very friendly one as it pranced over to him and mewled until he opened his arms and it hopped into them.

He scratched its chin, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty kitty?” It meowed and flopped in his arms, tucking itself under his chin and Jason huffed a laugh as he walked through the entryway, immediately entering the living room. It was wine red just like the bedroom he’d left, and the furniture was dark as well.

Jason scanned the area and saw a light coming from his left; he walked over and entered the little kitchen area, seeing (Y/N) bent over the counter, Fang pressed into her side.

“No, Fang, you already ate.” She admonished. “You’re gonna get fat if you keep eating.”

He tipped his head back and let out a howl.

“Oh, is that right, big boy? You’re still hungry?” Fang grumbled and she smiled, pulling something out of her pocket. “Alright, here you go.” He took it from her and chewed on it, and she turned, grinning at Jason.

“I see Salem found you,” she remarked, walking over to scratch the cat’s belly. “Handsome boy.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t leave me alone until I picked him up.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s how he works.” She took Salem from him, smiling at how the cat mewled. “Go and do something productive, Salem.” The cat took off and she met Jason’s gaze. “Are you hungry?”

His mouth opened, but his stomach answered with a fierce growl and he felt his cheeks get hot as she snorted.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she replied and turned around, grabbing something from the counter. (Y/N) spun back around and handed him a plate.

Jason took it from her and glanced down at it. There was a panini sandwich with meat and cheese and various fruits surrounding it.

“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled.

“Table’s in the living room,” she said and walked around him, leaving him to follow.

She’d already pulled a chair out when he got there and he sat down, his hunger keeping him from conversation as he began to eat, her merely watching.

After he finished the first half of his sandwich, he happened to look up just as another cat was jumping into (Y/N)’s lap, this one black too like Salem, but sleeker and spotted, and peering at him with big turquoise eyes.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t you have enough pets around here? Two cats, a mastiff, a raven. That’s a lot for one woman.”

(Y/N) grinned and ran her nails down the cat’s back, smile widening when it chirped. “I’ve got one more actually, but he’s probably not going to come out until he finds himself sure of your character.”

“Dog or cat?”

“Half-wolf, actually,” she corrected. “His name’s White-Fang.”

Jason shook his head. “What is it with you and naming your pets after animals in books?”

She shrugged. “I think their names are fitting.”

“What’s the cat’s name?” he asked, nodding at the one in her lap.

“His name is Pharaoh,” she murmured, gently scratching under his chin. “He’s an Egyptian Mau. I thought the name was appropriate for the breed.” She paused. “I’m surprised he came out so easily. Pharoah usually follows White-Fangs rather anti-social nature.” Her eyes met his. “He must sense you a good character.”

Jason wanted to counter that statement, but he simply grunted and popped a grape in his mouth. “Can I ask you a question?”

(Y/N) hummed. “I assume you’ve got many you want to ask?” he nodded, and she hummed. “Just remember curiosity killed the cat.”

He huffed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Jason gazed at her. “If those things were vampires like you…why’d you kill them?”

“Gotham has been vampiric territory for almost three centuries. Vampires like myself, who are capable of taking on another form, are tasked with keeping our kind in check.”

“You mean keeping the discovery of the supernatural a secret.”

She nodded. “That particular group has been extending itself higher and deeper into the Gotham elite. My fear was that they would try to induct some of the socialites into their coven.” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t need to consult the council to know what would happen if that occurred, so I took care of the problem before it came.”

“The council?” Jason questioned.

“The Vampiric Council. They’re responsible for overlooking all vampiric territories around the world. Really, the chain of command designates they overlook my position and I overlook lesser vampires around here.” (Y/N) sipped a glass of some red liquid he hoped wasn’t blood. “Though I haven’t been a part of the council nor its lapdog order in centuries.”

He gave her an odd look. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady’s age, but you keep saying centuries. How old are you exactly?”

(Y/N) chuckled, setting down her glass. “Do you want the age I was turned or how old I am now?”

“Both?” he quipped with a grin and she matched it.

“Hmm…I was turned when I was twenty-eight and I’m now…?” her face scrunched up. “Divines, how long ago was it when the Greeks lived?”

“About ten thousand years ago. Probably longer if you sit down and examine human history if I’m being honest.”

(Y/N) hummed. “Then I’m about ten-thousand and twenty-eight years old, give or take a few decades.”

Jason’s jaw went slack, and he simply gaped at her for a full minute. “…Are you shitting me?” he blurted out. “You lived before the Greeks were in their prime?”

She nodded and sipped her glass again. “Actually, this particular dimension wasn’t the one I was born into.” She waved a hand. “The dimension I’m originally from is much, much older.”

“How’d you manage interdimensional traveling?”

“Through sheer dumb luck and bad footing,” she griped, then let out a heavy sigh. “I was exploring a draugr ruin with a friend and somehow we came across the portal, though it was inactive.”

“And I assume the need for adventure made you curious about how to get it going again?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to her glass as she murmured, “You’d assume correctly. We combined our magics and got it to come to life, but something must’ve malfunctioned. As old as the ruin was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” She swirled the liquid. “My friend was sucked into it and I reacted, trading places with her.”

She looked up and met Jason’s eyes. “She was safe, and I fell through. I ended up in Neolithic Greece, as it’s referred to now.”

He wasn’t sure he should be so shocked. Honestly, he’d probably seen and heard more stunning things but still, her age and story were incredible.

“You’re really that old?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I am.”

“How’d you manage to survive this long?”

“I wasn’t some helpless babe when I came here, Jason. I knew how to take care of myself. Whether it was shelter and nutrition or fighting.”

Fighting was something Jason could work with.

“What do you prefer to fight with?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I’ve mastered one handed and two-handed weapons. And I’ve mastered most if not all, hand-to-hand combat-styles. But if I’m being honest, I prefer daggers and magic. It’s easier to take down targets with stealth.”

“What type of magic do you use?” Jason questioned curiously. Being trained by the All-Caste meant magic was a common in his repertoire.

(Y/N) paused and thought a moment. “Well…there’s a few different schools to the aspect of magic. Five to be exact.” Her face pinched. “Six, if you count Necromancy, but technically that falls underneath one of the five.”

“Necromancy? Like summoning dead? Bringing them back to life?”

Before she could respond, something tapped at the window and she looked over the loveseat to the glass, and hurriedly placed a grunting Pharaoh on the table as she made her way over. Cracking the window open, Nevermore hopped onto her wrist and she held her other hand out, smiling when he dropped a bundle into her palm.

“Good boy?” he crooned, and she nodded.

“Good boy, indeed,” she cooed, pressing her lips to his beak. Nevermore fluttered from her wrist to the table and started preening Pharoah who rolled onto his back and let him.

Her eyes found Jason’s and she held up the bundle. “I’ve got the ingredients needed to make your cure, Jason.”

“How long will it take?”

“Less than an hour.” (Y/N) walked around the table and headed through the entryway, Jason scrambling from his seat to follow after her, more curious than anything.

She opened one of the doors on the left of the hallway and he was surprised to see how big the bedroom was. “Master bedroom?”

“Upset I put you in the guest room?” she teased, and he snorted, watching as she walked over to a chest and bent down, opening it. (Y/N) pulled a few bottles out and shut it before rising once more and exiting her room, Jason still following as they moved back to the guest room.

He watched as she started pulling the nightshade petals off the stem and putting them in the mortar and grinding them. After she was apparently satisfied, she dropped in the bloodroots and started grinding them into a mixture that smelled absolutely foul. (Y/N) picked it up and scraped it into a bowl, then added the bottles of oils and liquids that she’d taken from the chest.

When she was finished, she turned and bypassed him, moving to the bedside table where the oil lamp was burning. She set the bowl on top and left it there, sitting on the bed.

“It will take time for the mixture to boil and form,” she explained, and he took a seat beside her.

“Thank you for doing this, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she nodded.

“I do it because it is not something you’ve chosen, but I must request a favor in return.” Jason motioned for her to continue. “The knowledge of my existence? Of Gotham being vampiric territory? Of the council? You must keep it a secret. From everyone, even those you trust the most.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I can do that, but why?”

(Y/N) sighed and gazed at her hands. “Jason, I’ve been living here in Gotham since before the American Revolution. This city has always been vampiric territory and I’ve been overseeing it for all this time.” Her gaze shifted to him. “I don’t want to pack up and leave because knowledge of supernatural existence has been revealed. It would only cause problems for both our kinds. Hell, for all kinds of supernatural.”

“There’s more?”

“Werewolves, fairies, nymphs, anything you can think of it exists.”

Jason blinked. “…Wow that’s…a lot of otherworldly beings.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “You’ve no idea.” She reached over and took his hand. “But I need you to swear to me that you will keep this secret. Do not tell anyone where you were the other night or what you were fighting. I’ve already disposed of the bodies and cleaned the area. No one will ever know besides us and I need it to stay that way.”

He nodded. “I will. I swear.”

She smiled and pulled her hand away. “Thank you, Jason.”

For a few moments they sat in silence, then he leaned over and asked, “So…tell me about those magic schools.”

Clapping her hands together, she chirped, “Oh, I forgot I was talking about that!” she held up a fist. “There are five schools. Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Conjuration, and Destruction.” With every category she raised a finger.

“And Necromancy?”

“Falls under Conjuration. Each school is different, Destruction and Conjuration speak for themselves, as does Restoration. Alteration is the school of magic where it affects the world around it by altering the laws of reality and manipulating it to one's own accord, allowing you to cast spells such as water-breathing, paralysis, and dragonhide armor.”

“Illusion,” she started. “involves manipulating the mind of the enemy, allowing one to cast spells like fear, calm, and invisibility.”

Jason cocked a brow. “That spell you used on me, the one that made me pass out. Was that a calming spell?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I was worried you’d start fighting me, so I did the easiest thing. Set your mind at ease and allowed your body to rest.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it for a second, then asked, “Will you show me some spells?”

She smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.” (Y/N) raised a hand. “The school of Destruction focuses on the elevation and perfection of three basic spells: fire, frost, and sparks.” The sharp smell of magic wafted up his nose and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when she willed the purple electricity to her fingers.

“Each spell can be elevated to the master level of fire storm, blizzard, and lighting storm. All devastating spells. There are also spells that can cause health absorption from your enemies.” She smiled. “I’m favorable of those.”

“What are your favorite destruction spells?” he questioned, and she thought for a moment.

“I’m favorable to two: unbounded storms and the touch of death. Both are incredibly effective on the battlefield, though the touch of death is useful for stealth killings.”

Jason’s lips pulled in a satisfactory way. “That’s impressive. I’d love to see those in action sometime.” He smiled at her. “Show me the invisibility spell.”

“Say please,” she countered, and he chuckled.

“Pretty please.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes and waved her hand, the sparks fading into a shimmering blue cube with pink, orange, and purple swirling around her hand. She curled her hand into a fist and then released it, and to Jason’s amazement, she disappeared from sight.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “That’s awesome.”

Her giggle sounded beside him and she waved a hand that he had to squint to see. “Invisibility works on those who aren’t trained to spot changes in the environment. I’m invisible, but you can see me if you look close enough.” Snapping her fingers, she appeared instantaneously, and he blinked.

“Wow…that’s an impressive ability.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and turned her attention to the mixture that was bubbling over the lamp. “I think this should be done by now.” Taking it off the lamp, she wiggled her fingers and Jason could feel the chill from where he was sitting as she transferred it to her frozen hand, watching the steam rise from the contact.

After a moment, she handed it to him and said, “Drink.”

The natural human reaction was to smell it and that’s what he did, all but recoiling from the horrid scent. She laughed. “It’s not meant to be caramel syrup, Jason. It’s a cure for a disease. Plug your nose and chug.”

Jason scowled at her before squeezing his nostrils shut and lifting the bowl to his lips. He almost vomited when it touched his tongue, but he forced it down his throat and finished with an entire body shudder.

(Y/N) took the bowl back and gently cradled his cheek in her hand. “Let me see,” she urged, and he stared into her glowing ember eyes. Something appeared in her vision, relief, then she smiled and pulled her hand back; he mourned the loss of contact, even if her hand was freezing. “Yes, if you had caught vampirism, you’re cured of it now,” she said.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he expressed, and she stood, giving him a smile.

“You needn’t thank me, Jason. I’m only doing what’s right.” She nodded at the chair in the corner. “I fixed your suit for you, so whenever you’re ready to leave, you may.”

As she headed for the door to give him privacy, he called out, “Can I come back to see you?” She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow, and he added rather quickly, “To see more magic and hear about your life?”

(Y/N) gave him a smile and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Jason.” She turned back around. “It’s been far too long since I had personal contact with a human. Maybe you can show me how to work a smartphone.”

“You don’t have a smartphone? In this day in age?”

“I have a rotary phone!” she retorted and scowled, “I don’t even have credit cards, Jason.”

“How do you pay for things?” he asked.

“I use cash? I’m rich, Jason. And I mean old, old world rich.”

***Chapter Three***

He hadn’t even taken one step into the cave when he was clobbered to the floor by three brothers in a bear hug. His back hit the cold cave floor and he mentally thanked that she’d healed his wounds because that probably would’ve opened them.

That being said, she hadn’t healed his sour mood because he immediately growled, “Get off me, now.”

His eldest brother looked up at him. “Jason, you’ve been missing since last night!” he cried. “We were worried about you!”

“Well, I’m obviously alive and safe, so get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.” He scowled at his brothers. “All of you.” They climbed off and pulled Jason to his feet, letting him brush off his clothes.

“Where’ve you been all night, Jay?” Tim questioned, taking a moment to pull the leather jacket away from his older brother’s side. “Your suit looks like it took damage…but I see you fixed it.” his head cocked to the side. “It looks like you used a blacksmith forge to do it.”

Jason whacked his hand away, tugging his jacket back in place to cover the fixes she’d made. “Got into a tussle with a couple gangbangers and tore my suit.” He glanced at his father who was making his way over, a frown on his face.

Bruce stood in front of him and held up a communicator. “You missed three calls. The first from Dick, the second from Alfred, and the last from me.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” he grunted. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself without having to check in every hour like a pre-teen on his first date.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, then calmly stated, “I got into a fight, got my suit ripped, and went back to an underground safehouse outside the city where I fixed it and recovered for the night.”

He looked at his family. “I’m sorry I missed the calls but I’m alive and I’m safe. So can we drop it?”

For a moment, Jason thought he was in the clear, then Dick’s eyes narrowed in that stupid way that meant he was going to say something completely ridiculous, but not exactly off the mark.

“Were you with a girl?” Dick teased. “It’s okay, Little-wing, you don’t have to be ashamed of seeing your girlfriend.”

It was a trap and by God ,Jason knew it, but damned if he couldn’t help himself. “For your information, Dickhead, I’m bisexual so I could’ve been seeing a boy, but no, I wasn’t seeing a girl. I was sleeping. Alone.”

“The lady doth protest too much methinks,” Damian smirked, and Jason pointed at him.

“I’m not above kicking your ass just because you’re younger than me,” he threatened and shoved past everyone, moving to the suit racks. “I’m going back to bed.”

“But you haven’t told us about your girlfriend,” Tim called, grinning whenever Jason threw him the finger from behind.

“I already told you, I wasn’t with anyone,” he retorted and stomped up the stairs to the study.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest with a smile and murmured, “B, I think Little-wings’ got himself a woman, don’t you?”

Bruce merely hummed in response. “I’m still concerned about the complete radio silence. He’s never done that before.”

“Oh, come on, who do you think we learned radio silence from, Mister-Robin-Go-Find-Evidence-While-I-Apprehend-Catwoman?” he countered, smirking when Bruce glowered at him. “Everyone wants a bit of privacy every now and then B, and as much as we’d love to tease Little-wing into telling us who he was with, he is entitled to his silence every now and then.”

“True,” Bruce grunted. “But I still don’t like my sons ignoring me when I’m worried.”

Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug by the three boys around him while Dick squeaked, “Aww you do care!”

“Hrn, get off me.”

***

It’d been about two months since Jason came back to (Y/N)’s home, knowing that his brothers were watching him every night to see if he’d go offline again. He’d told them to screw off more times than he could count, but finally they relented, either assured of the fact that he wasn’t going to say anything or that they actually believed he had been alone that night.

Regardless, he found himself standing in front of her home, and now that he thought about it, the place was a lot smaller outside than it was on the inside, like those tents in the Harry Potter movies. Magic. He assumed and reached up, grabbing the brass door knocker that gave him the heebie jeebies more than he wanted to admit.

The ring sat in the mouth of a brass skull that had demonic horns curled around it. He shook his head and tapped the knocker a couple times then pulled away when he heard clacking on the other side of the door.

“Open!” something said.

He turned the antique brass doorknob, pushing open the door with a quiet, “Excuse me.”

Jason paused as he stepped inside. (Y/N) wasn’t anywhere in the living room or kitchen and he frowned, wondering where she was when something tugged at his jacket sleeve.

“Here!”

Glancing down, he saw the raven hopping up and down and he smiled, holding out his wrist, watching it hop to his forearm then up to his shoulder.

“Hey Nevermore. How are you today?”

The bird croaked in return. “Happy.”

“Yeah? Where’s (Y/N) at?”

“Studio!” Nevermore replied and Jason started moving past the coffee table and couch, smiling at the Neapolitan Mastiff and Maine coon lazing.

“Hey Fang, hey Salem.”

Fang didn’t even wake up, but Salem mewled once and shut his eyes again, flopping onto the dog’s wrinkly back.

Jason got to the hallway and paused. “Alright bud, which way?”

Nevermore hopped once. “Right!”

“Right it is,” he agreed and walked down the hallway to the single open door. He knocked quietly on the doorframe and stepped inside, immediately catching sight of (Y/N) at a stool, a paintbrush in her hand as she delicately lined her work.

“Good morning, Jason,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to come back around.”

He hummed and walked over, watching as Nevermore flew off his arm to perch atop a wooden peg in the corner of the room.

“My family wouldn’t let up about the other night.”

“Ah,” she replied, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her smile. “Yes, the notorious Batfamily. Master detectives, I’ve been led to believe, hmm?”

Jason stood beside her, gazing at her ember eyes that traced the movement of the paintbrush. She must’ve been seeing something he hadn’t because her hands were shifting faster than could follow.

“You know about us?”

“That Bruce Wayne is Batman and that his children are the gangling quartet of Robins? Oh yes, Jason. I’ve known since he took up the mantle.” Her eyes finally found his. “Pull that stool from over there and sit. I’ll be here for some time.”

He did as she said and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees. “Who are you painting this for?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Some billionaire in Hong Kong commissioned a painting of his dog and his brood of pups.”

“You don’t know the guy’s name?” Jason snorted and she shook her head.

“As I said, you’re the first personal human contact I’ve had in decades.” She dabbed the paintbrush in blue and painted the eyes of the sire. “I don’t typically associate with humanity much anymore. It’s easier to let things simply pass by.”

He frowned. “That seems like a lonely existence, (Y/N).”

“Not so much. I’ve had the boys for all this time.”

Jason blinked, then looked at Nevermore. “Wait, how old are your pets?”

“Immortality doesn’t just stop at vampires, Jason. The boys are all of extended lifeforms.” She smiled that pearly white grin and he saw the pointed canines. “Nevermore for example is tied to my life. He won’t die unless I do.”

“What if he gets crushed in a meat grinder?” Jason countered. “I feel like would stop him from coming back.”

“He’d come back missing a few feathers,” (Y/N) snorted when Nevermore squawked in anger. “But trust me, he’d come back, Jason.” She glanced at him. “How’ve you been? Any more problems?” He scowled, making her laugh. “Oh, this I have to hear.”

Jason grunted. “My brothers wouldn’t leave me alone about that night I was radio silent. They kept asking who my girlfriend was.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Tell them what?” he repeated, confused.

“Who your girlfriend was.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Should’ve said you were with someone. That probably would’ve gotten them off your back enough.”

“I thought you said to keep it a secret,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I did. But people are going to believe whatever they want to believe even if you’re sincere about otherwise,” she explained with a knowing tone. “I’d’ve just said I was with someone and couldn’t be bothered to talk because I was ravishing them until they couldn’t walk.”

Jason’s face went hot, and his stomach felt tight as he looked away. “Oh, uh, I…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “I guess that’s how you play ball, huh?”

(Y/N) chuckled lowly, sending shivers down his spine. “I’d almost forgotten how easy humans flustered.” She shot him a polite smile. “Apologies. I’m used to vampiric vulgarities.”

“Vampires are vulgar? Aren’t vampires supposed to be regal and pretentious?”

She cackled. “Oh, they are,” (Y/N) agreed. “When vampires aren’t attending council meetings or higher functions and are in a small group of trusted companions, they’d act so obscenely it’d put sailors to shame.” She sighed wistfully. “Massive orgies, endless feedings and flowing wine. It’s all so…common.”

“Have you attended many of those…parties?” Jason quizzed and she nodded.

“I did back a very, very long time ago, but I haven’t for some time now. It’s not exactly my thing.”

“But it’s a thing for vampires?” he said, brows furrowing.

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Feeding when copulating is supposed to be an intimate thing. Between two, in private, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, because it’s a binding of blood and bodies. It’s meant to be an exclusive thing not an inclusive one.”

She shook her head. “It’s…hard to explain to someone who isn’t a vampire nor a lover of one.”

“Have you ever done it?”

(Y/N) blinked. “Fed in private?” he nodded, and she tipped her head in agreement. “With other vampires yes, but not humans.”

Jason felt curiosity course through him. “How come? I’d figure if you’re one who enjoys the more private events, why not humans too?”

“Because I stopped consuming human blood before I fell through the portal ten thousand years ago,” she explained. “Even then, the last intimate relationship I ever had with a human was in Scandinavia when the Vikings walked the earth some millennia ago. I haven’t been with another human since he died.”

“Sounds like it’s not a happy subject,” he murmured, and she nodded. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. Mathias didn’t want me to mourn him but to remember him with joy.” (Y/N) rested the brush on her thigh. “Mathias got sick and none of my Restoration magic was healing him nor the rituals his clan were casting. I offered to make him one of my kind. It would’ve saved him, and we would’ve been together, but…” she trailed off and in a moment of compassion, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then inhaled deeply. “He worried that Odin wouldn’t accept him into Valhalla when he met his end. At the same time, he didn’t wish for me to break my vow of never consuming human blood again.” Her lips pulled into a sad smile, lamenting, “I held him when he took his last breath, and then I lit the pyre he laid upon.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor. “I then travelled across the lands for many centuries and to the Americas where I’ve been now.” She smiled. “I have had many human friends over the years and each time it gets easier to let go. You learn the pain is only temporary, but their memories are forever.”

Jason couldn’t think of a thing to say so he simply squeezed her shoulder again and pulled away, resting his hands in his lap. After a moment, he commented, “You’re an extraordinarily strong woman, (Y/N). I don’t think I’d be able to live as long as you could.”

“There’s always something new to discover, Jason. Vampirism is merely an extension of life until you die. Perhaps when this land is but ruins, I’ll travel back to Europe and discover something new?” she smiled, and he felt his heart thump against his ribcage. “The possibilities are endless.”

Before he could say anything, a low growl sounded from the doorway and Jason looked over his shoulder and hissed, “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) snorted and spun on her stool, holding out her hands to the wolfdog in the doorway. “White-Fang! I see you’ve come out of the study for once.”

The hybrid bounded over with heavy footfalls and Jason almost shit himself when it got up close. Because it was bigger than he’d imagined. Bigger, and dark furred, with bright white eyes.

She drew her hand up his hackles. “How’s my big, scary boy doing?” he growled in response, low and gravely, practically glaring at Jason.

“Is he going to eat me?” Jason whispered with mild-fear and he swore that wolfdog laughed at him.

(Y/N) huffed. “No, he’s not going to eat you.” She patted White-Fang’s head. “He’s just teasing.”

“I think he wants to eat me,” Jason retorted when she grabbed his hand and he whimpered as she neared the hybrid’s head. “My hand especially.”

She leveled White-Fang with a glare. “Heel.” The wolfdog immediately sat down and waited, watching carefully as Jason’s hand neared his head, and when it touched, he held for a second then groaned and moved around until Jason’s hand was at his ear.

“He wants you to scratch his ears, Jason,” she murmured, and he did, grinning like an idiot as the hybrids leg started thumping on the ground. “See, he’s not so scary.”

“I bet he is to anyone that tries to hurt you,” he remarked with a smirk and she smiled.

“Oh, he’s ripped a few throats out, certainly.” (Y/N) patted White-Fang’s side. “Alright boy, wanna go outside?”

He was pulling away from Jason’s hand in an instant, twirling in a circle at the door whilst growling for her to hurry.

“Well, go find your harness and you can leave.”

He disappeared and Jason questioned, “Harness?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I make Nevermore go with him so he can keep an eye out for trouble.” She huffed. “Animal control is one thing I don’t need on my plate.”

White-Fang came back with a harness in his mouth and bounded to (Y/N), letting her adjust it. After she was finished, Nevermore cawed, and perched himself atop a little wooden handle on White-Fang’s back, starting to preen himself as the hybrid hurried to the front door.

“Can he open that him—” the front door slammed, and Jason blinked. “I guess that answers that question.”

She giggled and stood to her feet, stretching her arms over her head before asking, “Want something to eat?”

Jason smiled. “Yeah, I could eat.”

***Chapter Four***

It was a constant weekly visit to her home, but Jason almost found himself returning every other day. At first, he thought it was some vampiric seduction she’d put over him, but with every laugh that escaped her lips from the stupid jokes he’d stolen from his older brother, he realized it wasn’t supernatural power that kept him coming back—it was love. He was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. And it only made it harder to see her because he knew with the knowledge of her previous human lover, she wasn’t going to be interested in Jason. But he could hope.

He stowed the black key into his pocket and curled a hand around the doorknob, pushing it open. “(Y/N)!” he called out.

Somewhere in the home, he heard, “In the study!”

God, that was another reason he loved her. She had books galore. First additions of books he’d only ever dreamed of holding, let alone reading. And she’d told him to take whatever he’d wanted.

He couldn’t stop himself from hurrying to the door at the opposite end of the hallway, turning into the study to see her bent over her desk, penning something on letter paper. He smiled at Nevermore who was perched on the bust above her on the wall.

(Y/N) looked up at him and gave a tired smile. She must’ve been about to go to bed from the looks of her wear, a black chemise she was fond of. “Good evening, Jason. How are you doing tonight?”

He put down the takeout bag on one of the loveseats and walked around her desk, leaning back on the edge.

“Well, it looks like I’m doing a lot better than you are,” he remarked, glancing down at her letter. It was full of words he didn’t understand, obviously another language he didn’t recognize, but he caught ‘Vampire’ and ‘Council’ a couple times but there was one word that slightly worried him and that was ‘Lycan’.

She sighed heavily and placed the pen back it its stand and rubbed her temples. “I’ve spent the last eight hours penning letters to and from the council and other confidants in neighboring locations.” (Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose. “There’s a problem in Gotham and I’ve got to understand how it started and fix it before it gets worse.”

Jason eyed her. “Are you talking about the werewolf that’s been running around at night?” he sighed. “I just got off patrol looking for the damned thing.”

“So, you are as well?” she answered lowly, her ember eyes shifting to gaze out the window at the nightly moon reflecting off one of the windows of a skyscraper. “I don’t know how one got into Gotham without my knowledge, but it has.”

She stood suddenly and walked around to her drink stand, pouring a glass of wine; she took a sip. “Now the council is up my ass about Lycan-encroachment on vampiric territory and I still have to contact the nearest werewolf colony to ask if they’ve lost one. I’m sure they’ll tell me to screw off in less nicer ways.”

“Yeah, Bruce isn’t too happy about the thing either,” Jason said, and he could feel his eyes on her as he mumbled, “It’s been killing every night and last night it ripped a family to shreds. Mom and a dad with three kids.”

A glass shattered and he looked over, seeing (Y/N)’s hand clenched tightly, wine glass in shards on the floor, red wine and black blood mixing as it ran down her arm.

“(Y/N),” he exclaimed, moving to her and he saw the crystal tears on her cheeks.

“Fuck,” she hissed harshly. “Nevermore and I have been out every night for the last week, but we can’t find the fucking thing.” Her auburn eyes found his and he saw the wrath within them. “To hell with the werewolf colony and protocol. I’ll rip that moon-born’s spine out with my bare hands.”

Her skin started to turn that pale gray like her second form and Jason gently took her hand, “Calm down, (Y/N).” She gazed at him and before she could say anything, he added, “If my family and I can’t find it, I don’t think you could either.” He gave a tight smile and reached up with his opposite hand, caressing her cheek. “Let’s get your hand cleaned up, yeah?”

She let him guide her to the bathroom where she sat town on the toilet seat, gazing deadly at the wall ahead while he pulled out a black bag, digging around for tweezers. Jason started plucking the glass out of her hand, every so often pausing to check for signs of discomfort in her expression.

When he was finished, he held her hand over the sink and rinsed it before toweling it, and when he pulled the black towel away, her wounds had already resealed themselves. He tossed the towel onto the sink and held her hands, not exactly knowing what to say to her.

“How old were the children?” she questioned calmly, and he sighed.

“Two, ten, and fifteen.”

(Y/N)’s eyes welled with tears again and she dug her black-nailed fingers into her palm, ignoring the pricks of pain. “Goddamn them,” she cursed in a tone frozen as winter. “Damn them to hell. All of their kind.” He watched her quietly as she raged. “Goddamn Lycan colonies allowing their kind to trample all over other kinds’ territories with no regard for the natural or supernatural. This is why I hate werewolves. They’re so inconsiderate and destructive.”

She brought a hand to her eyes, harshly wiping the tears. “Three children taken before their times and no justice to be given.” A sob escaped her. “I’ve allowed myself to become too complacent with your family protecting Gotham that I forgot my duty. Now look what I’ve caus—”

Jason took her hands. “Woah, woah, woah,” he said firmly, digging his thumbs between her fingers and her palms. “(Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That family though—”

“Didn’t die by your hands,” he replied. “You’ve been trying to stop it. You haven’t been negating your duties. You never had the duty of keeping Gotham safe from crime.”

(Y/N) blinked. “What?”

“Your duty has always been to keep vampires in line here, not to stop crime from happening.” He shook his head. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’ve been doing exactly that. There is no complacence on my family.”

She gazed at him for a long moment, then leaned forward; Jason followed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Your words are kind, Jason, but I fear they’re not negating my emotions.”

One of Jason’s hands rose to hold her cheek. “Let me try another way,” he whispered and tilted her face, delicately pressing his lips to hers.

(Y/N) started to pull back. “Jason, I—”

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Let me help you right now.”

“I need,” she started. “I need more, Jason.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want from me, you can have, doll.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered, and she was never one to be held like she was glass. She surged forward and curled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and Jason responded with a noise of shock which she swallowed, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against him.

Suddenly, she pulled back and whatever he was planning on saying died on his lips when she commanded, “Bed. Now.”

Jason couldn’t help the startled laugh as he pulled away, letting himself be shoved backwards out the bathroom door and down the hallway. “Excited, aren’t you?”

She scowled as his back collided with the bedroom door and he lowered a hand trying to open it. “You’ve been walking on eggshells for the last six months, Jason. You want this as much as I do.”

His eyes went wide, and he stopped fumbling for the doorknob. “You—you know?”

(Y/N) pressed up against his body, shoving one of her thighs between his hips and Jason inhaled sharply as she ground herself against him. “Of course, I know,” she purred, tugging the collar of his shirt down. “I can smell your desire every time you come here.”

Jason’s only reply was a groan when she latched onto the skin just above his collarbone, sucking a red welt into it. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other starting back for the doorknob again, but she grabbed it and slammed it beside his head, fingers wrapping around his wrist just shy of painful.

“Blood, you see, Jason, is intoxicating on its own,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his throat, nipping enough that it had his hips canting forward, trying to rub against her thigh. “But the pheromones of desire?” (Y/N) whispered in his ear. “Are even more so,”

And he was helplessly pinned between her and the oak door, as she lowered her free hand and swiftly undid his belt buckle and popped the button of his jeans before she tugged his zipper down just enough to give it slack.

She slid her hand down into the front of pants and cupped him, smirking when he gasped and rolled his hips into her palm. “Divines, I could smell it crawling all over you,” she said. “I could smell those times you’d come over after relieving yourself of the ache.”

“(Y/N),” Jason moaned, and she squeezed him again, eliciting an even deeper moan from his throat.

“Tell me, Jason. How many times?” she asked, and he couldn’t find the words to answer her, starting to pant. “How many since we met have you taken your cock in your hand and pleasured yourself?”

“I—fuck—too many to count,” he gasped and gazed down at her; she was giving him that perfect little smile that made him twitch in her grasp.

(Y/N) shifted her hand and slid it inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length and Jason’s knees almost went out beneath him right there when she started pumping him. “What do you think about when you do?” she smirked. “I know it’s obviously me.” Her ember eyes bored into his as she squeezed him. “Is it my mouth? Or my hand?”

He swallowed thickly, breath hitching as he confessed, “Y-you’re on your back and you’re—”

“I’m already bored, Jason,” (Y/N) cooed. “Missionary is boring.”

A chuckle actually made it from him at that and he whispered, “You didn’t let me finish.”

She laughed, countering, “Good thing I’m going to let you.” He groaned as she swiped her thumb over his tip, pressing down. “Come on, Jason. Give me something I can work with. Give me the most lust-filled scenario you’ve thought about.”

To accentuate her point, she tugged his length roughly and he growled, “I’m fucking you into the bed senseless while your ankles and wrists are bound and you’re screaming yourself hoarse.”

(Y/N)’s lips split with delight and he saw those points again as she pricked her tongue on one and all he wanted to do was suck the black blood pooling on the tip of it. “Am I on my stomach?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Your ass is up in the air and your—shit—your ankles are tied to your bed posts.”

“Ooo, I’m spread open for you, huh? Afraid I’ll be a bad girl and move before you can tell me too? Or are you afraid I’ll take control and ride you?” she taunted.

Jason’s eyes darkened and he glared down at her. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

(Y/N) grinned evilly and quipped, “Not right now you’re not.” She started pumping him faster and he sucked in a breath as his thighs started to quiver, stomach muscles clenching in anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he warned with a deep grunt, and she placed her thumb underneath his head, massaging there.

“I can smell it, darling,” she whispered, “how close you are.” She pressed her lips to his pulse point, mouthing the skin, flicking her tongue to taste the salt of his sweat. “I want to feel you come apart. Do it, Jason. For me, please, darling.”

“(Y/N) I—I’m gonna—” he choked out and she pressed herself onto his clothed thigh, rubbing and moaning and he could feel how damp she was. It sent him spiraling. “Doll, I’m—fuck I’m—” Jason threw his head back and canted his hips forward, seeing stars as he pulsed in her hand, jaw going slack as he let out a guttural groan. She twisted her wrist and pumped him through it until he was grabbing at her wrist, an overstimulated and shaking mess.

She leaned away from his neck and pulled her hand from his boxers, lifting her fingers to her lips. He watched as her tongue darted out and tasted him and he felt the desire pool low in his gut again as she moaned, swirling her tongue between two of her fingers, collecting the sticky white lines leftover.

Jason grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, pulling her into a searing kiss, groaning at the taste of himself on her tongue. She was strong, but he wrenched his wrist out of her iron tight grip and grabbed the doorknob, shoving the door open. He swallowed her laugh, and she tipped her head back so he had better access.

They stumbled to the bed and his calves hit the edge. Her hands were already pushing his pants down to his knees to the floor and he leaned away from her, pulling his shirt over his head. He smirked when her eyes flared with need and she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. Jason went down easy, and she was crawling over his body, lowering herself to grind on him.

He bit back a groan as he felt himself hardening and slipped his fingers under her thigh length chemise, feeling up her stomach and to her breasts. (Y/N) gasped when his thumbs swiped over her nipples and she arched her back into his touch.

“Like that?” he smirked, and she matched his grin.

“I’d like it a lot better if you pinched ‘em.” He chuckled and did exactly that, moaning when she ground herself harder onto him, her head tipping back slightly.

Jason pulled his hands away and she whined until he grabbed the chemise and lifted above her head and off her body. His eyes widened when he realized she was completely nude underneath and she giggled when he twitched beneath her.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great dick is surprised. Both figuratively andliterally.” (Y/N) placed a hand on his broadly defined chest and bent her knees beside his hips, resting the tops of her feet on his thighs.

He grunted and griped her hips as she raised herself up. “Something tells me you were planning this all night.”

She smiled sweetly and grabbed him, using his head to spread herself. “Did you want me to wait for dinner first?”

Jason’s laugh dissolved quickly as he groaned, “God, you’re so wet, doll.” He could feel her dripping down his length and he fought to keep himself under control and not thrust up into her heat.

“I can’t help it, darling. You do it to me.” She sunk down on him slowly, letting out a moan that hitched when he bottomed out inside her.

(Y/N) took a moment to breathe, letting herself adjust to his size; he was certainly bigger than most and she knew he was thinking it by that smart grin on his lips, though she could tell by the way his chest was heaving that he was straining.

“Tell me, Jason, was this ever a fantasy of yours?” she asked, pulling at his hands until he ran them up her legs, massaging the flesh of her thighs.

“Absolutely,” he panted, and she purred when he pressed his thumb between her legs and rubbed lightly.

“Please tell me you were handcuffed to this bed, darling,” she begged and using her leverage she raised herself off him all the way then sunk back down, grinding her hips against his. “Tell me I was watching you writhe underneath me while I bounced up and down on you.” She moaned. “Oh, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come all over my fingers thinking about riding your cock.”

Jason’s back arched slightly, and he couldn’t help but dig his head into the pillow beneath him. “Fuck, your mouth is so dirty, (Y/N).”

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she countered, then shifted, taking one of his rosy buds in her mouth.

“You’re really tigh—fuckin’ hell,” he cursed when she tugged lightly with her teeth.

(Y/N) laved it over with her tongue and was heading for the second one when he grabbed her chin and yanked her head up, hissing, “Ride me like you mean it or I swear to God, I’ll flip us and fuck you until you’re boneless in this bed.”

“Promises, promises, darling,” she cooed and put both hands on his chest to push herself up. And that was all she said before setting a vicious pace, bouncing up and down, and all Jason could do pinned underneath her was grab her hip and thrust up when she came down.

When he tried to sit up to hold her, she placed one hand in the center of his chest. “Not right now, darling. Later tonight.”

He groaned. “We’re still gonna be busy tonight?”

(Y/N) winked. “All until the early morning hours,” she panted and with her free hand, reached between her legs. She hissed at the added pleasure and then Jason knocked her hand away, replacing it with his fingers and soon she was clenching tighter and tighter around him as he sped up.

“Jason,” she whimpered, the coil in her gut moments away from snapping and he nodded, massaging the flesh of her hip with his free hand.

“I know, doll,” he replied heatedly, swirling his thumb tighter and faster. “Let go. Let me feel you around me.” Jason bypassed her hand this time and sat up, pulling her against his body and he grabbed her chin, growling, “Come for me, (Y/N). Do it. I wanna see you come all over my cock.”

(Y/N) stilled in his lap with a gasp as she shuddered against him, insides fluttering as the ache between her legs pulsed. Jason’s thrusting turned frantic and sloppy and soon he was falling over the edge too, grip like steel on her body as he spilled himself deep inside her with a low groan. He collapsed back onto the mattress, pulling her with him and they lay there, panting and sweating, but satiated and content.

Jason’s fingers skimmed up and down her spine and she nestled against his chest, her long fingernails delicately tracing the scars over his skin.

For a moment, all was calm and quiet, then in the quietest, most painfilled tone she’d ever heard him use, he whispered, “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She didn’t want to move herself from his warmth, though she tipped her head up, propping her chin on his chest. “What for?”

He couldn’t look at her. “I—I didn’t want to do this.”

“What?” she breathed and immediately she was pulling away from him, ignoring the separation of their bodies. “If you didn’t want to do this then why would you—”

Jason held her close and lamented, “Mathias. I…I didn’t want to make you think of him.”

(Y/N) gaped at the man beneath her, then she calmed and rested a hand on his cheek, explaining, “Jason, Mathias died thousands of years ago.” She smiled, though he could see the sadness, even as minute as it was. “I lost him, yes, and I mourned him for many decades. But I moved on.” Her thumb swiped over his skin. “You needn’t worry of my affections for Mathias coming in between this. I loved him. Past tense.”

Her eyes flashed with sincerity. “But right now? I love you. Present tense.”

Jason blinked in shock. “You…you love me?” he shook his head when she nodded. “I just thought that you’d want…well you know…”

She laughed. “That I’d just want sex?”

“Yeah…”

“I trust me, I do want that. But,” she began and leaned up, brushing her nose against his. “I want your heart, Jason.”

“Please mean that figuratively and not literally,” he joked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I forgot how much humans could act like asses when they wanted too.”

He let out a ‘hmpf’ and tipped his head up. “You like my ass, thank you very much. It’s perfect and round and perky.”

“I do. And it is. But I think I’ll like it more when I’ve got you shoved face first into the bed and it’s all pretty in the air for me,” she smirked and his eyes went wide, jaw dropping.

“Are you talking about…”

(Y/N) grinned wickedly. “Oh yes, darling. Yes, I am. I’ve got one in the drawer down there if you want to go ahead and start the process.”

Jason swallowed thickly and chuckled nervously, “Maybe we can save that for a later day?”

Giggling, she nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, Jason.”

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed, cracking a smile when she snorted. He looked at her and cupped her cheek. “I love you, (Y/N).”

She smiled wholeheartedly and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I know. And I you.”

***Chapter Five***

Jason learned to not hope for things to stay the way they were in his life. He lived each day knowing it could be his last, a stray bullet or a well-placed knife between two ribs, he didn’t hope to stay alive—he wanted to, but he didn’t hope for it. But when it came to the fifth month of dating her, he hoped things would never change.

It was odd at first, staying over at her home every other night. Mainly because he learned early on that (Y/N)’s vampirism meant she hardly ever needed sleep. An hour, maybe two at the most, and then she was ready to go. Of course, when he’d brought it up, she did mention that the older she got, the less sleep she needed. Something about being as powerful as she was. Apparently, new blooded vampires slept for months on end, whereas the older ones barely slept at all.

He also noticed that with her not-sleeping, she also watched him a lot. It did send shivers up his spine, but not in the bad way. The only reason he knew she did was because he was asleep at one point and being trained to know when there were eyes on him, the hair at the back of his neck kept standing up and when he rolled over and opened his eyes, she offered him a sheepish grin and an apology for staring at him. “You’re really handsome and content when you sleep, darling.” She’d said. “It makes for a perfect inspiration to paint.” Jason learned to relax after that.

But soon, every other night carrying a duffel bag to her place became spending every night and filling a chest of drawers with his pants and undergarments, and the closet with his shirts and jackets. She’d even let him use an armor stand in her basement—she had a basement with weapons and armor and a blacksmithing station that made him squeal like a child when he first saw it—to place one of his extra suits. If it had been anyone else, Jason would’ve said things were moving way too fast, but something about (Y/N) told him that there wasn’t going to be anyone after her—while he wouldn’t be her last love, she was the last he’d ever have.

***

Arms encircled his waist and he hummed as she propped her chin on his bicep, watching as he prepared the vegetables. “What are you making?” she murmured, pressing a kiss just below where his T-shirt sleeve stopped.

He noticed that about (Y/N) too. She was very affectionate, always pressing kisses to where she could reach, or resting her hand or leg on him. He’d never been big on contact since coming back, but there was something so comforting about the chill of her lips and fingertips when she did.

Jason sliced into a carrot. “Beef stir-fry.” He grabbed a long green bean from one of the bowls just off the cutting board and raised it to his arm, smiling when she took it from him.

“Mmm, I’m glad I don’t have to do all the cooking for once,” (Y/N) quipped, as she licked her lips.

“Oh, is that all you’re keeping me around for then? To be your personal chef?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason.” Her eyes twinkled and she pressed herself up against his back, her hands sliding down to his haunches where she squeezed lightly. “I keep you around as a personal bed warmer too.”

He barked a laugh and glanced over at her. “I should’ve seen that coming.” (Y/N) puckered her lips and Jason chuckled. “I did see that one coming though,” he remarked as he pressed his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she giggled.

She pulled away from him and walked to his other side, leaning down on the counter. “Do you want any help?”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve got it.” Jason turned his eyes onto her. “Did you get any response from the Lycan colony in Virginia?” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily darkened, and he sighed. “Guess not.”

“They won’t talk to me through unofficial channels,” she answered. “If I actually want to learn what’s been happening, I’ll have to ask the council to call a meeting with the Lycan Alliance.” She rolled her eyes. “Going through the procedure is just bureaucratic bullshit but it’s what’s kept our kinds from all-out war for thousands of years.”

Jason glanced at her. “There some type of truce made like in the movies?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Back when I still worked on the council I—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, disbelief crossing his face. “You sat on the Vampiric Council? But I thought you hated it?”

“Oh no, I don’t hate the council. I loathe it. Entirely,” she corrected. “But I was the one who put forth most of the effort to get the truce into place.”

“Really now?” he wondered, eyes wide with impression. “How’d that come about?”

“Tensions between our species reached a boiling point and we were headed for full annihilation of our species if we couldn’t find peace somehow,” (Y/N) remembered. “I called on the leaders of the Lycan forces and asked for a parlay to negotiate a truce.”

“Did it work out well?” Jason asked. “Can’t imagine werewolves and vampires sitting peacefully in a room together. Sounds like a recipe for complete disaster.”

“In any other case, I’d agree, but you’d be surprised how calm people can get when peace is on the table,” she remarked. “I was the strongest on the council and my word carried the most authority, so myself and my most trusted confidants met with the most authoritative Lycan leaders for an entire month and on the night of the final day, we reached an agreement.”

“You weren’t worried you’d be outvoted by anyone?”

(Y/N) grinned, showing her pointed canines. “Oh no, darling. Me and the others made enough to outvote their opposition. But I digress, the agreement stated that all forces were to cease fighting when the sun rose on the first day of the new month and return to their respective colony or coven immediately. Our leaders would designate territories for both species and the other wasn’t allowed to enter unless given express consent.”

Her ember eyes followed the knife he wielded. “If a vampire killed a werewolf, the offended party was given custody of the perpetrator to do with as they wished and vice versa. Any crime against another was to be investigated and handled by elite members of the species, and punishment only carried out when acknowledged and allowed by the Council or Alliance.”

She sighed. “It took an entire month to draw out the truce and even longer to enforce it to the point that we could all take a breath and not dread war. But it worked, and we’ve had relative peace for a few millennia.”

Jason scraped the chopped carrots into a bowl. “How are your territories designated?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Fairly easily actually. Werewolves prefer warmer climates and vampires prefer cooler ones, so southern states and countries were typically handed over to the Lycan Alliance while the Vampiric Council took control of the north.”

He snorted. “So, what, the closer I get to the equator, the more werewolves I’ll find?”

“Pretty much.” She smiled. “Most northern and eastern states here in the U.S. are vampire-controlled territory. The south and Midwest are typically werewolf territory.” (Y/N) tipped her head side to side. “That being said, there are some cases in which Lycan colonies will reside in vampire control and the other way around too.”

“What cases are those?” he questioned, quickly chopping some tomatoes.

“On average, most native tribes are werewolf packs, though there are some tribes that are vampiric. The Mohawk tribe has been known to have a few of my kind here and there.” She reached over and plucked a cherry tomato from another bowl. “Since some native tribes still reside on their original lands, we share the territory with them.”

“Oh, so like in Twilight?”

“Yes, but also no, and please don’t ever mention that abomination again,” she scowled, and he chuckled.

“Yes ma’am.” Jason smiled, then seeming to think about something, his hands stilled.

(Y/N) caught it instantly. “Is something wrong?”

“Can I ask you something personal?” he questioned, gazing at her seriously and she nodded.

“Of course. Ask me anything.”

He inhaled deeply. “How’d you become a vampire? And why?”

She blinked, evidently not expecting that one, but she recovered and pulled his arm, tugging him away from the counter. They wandered into the living room and Jason collapsed onto one end of the loveseat, (Y/N) at the other. Resting her feet in his lap, she smiled when he started massaging them.

“This was back when I was still in my dimension and human, but vampires had become bolder and started attacking cities. They were looking for something, but no one knew what it was. All we knew was that there were attacks night after night and no sign of it ending.”

Her head tipped back onto the arm. “I was approached by a vampire hunter who wanted me to join the Dawnguard, an order of vampire hunters who were looking into the growing threat. I agreed and met up at the fort where the leader, a man named Isran, told me to go to a location called Dimhollow Crypt and investigate why the vampires seemed particularly interested in the tomb.”

Jason dug his thumbs into the bottoms of her feet. “What did you find?”

“A bunch of dead Vigilants of Stendarr and a whole lotta vampires,” she deadpanned, and his brows furrowed.

“What’re Vigilants of Stendarr?”

“Holy hunters of the Divine God Stendarr,” (Y/N) answered. “They root out evil and daedra where they find it.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “A bunch of pretentious assholes if you ask me.”

Shaking her head, she continued, “So I snuck through the crypt and eventually found this…pillar with a bunch of unlit braziers around it. My dumbass put my hand on the pillar and got impaled by a spike, but my blood broke whatever magic seal and lit the braziers.” She took a breath. “After I got slid them in order, the floor moved, and an ancient sarcophagus was revealed.”

“And you found a mummy?” he quizzed with a grin.

“Actually, I found a vampire,” (Y/N) retorted with a smirk. “And Divines know how long Serana had been down there, but I helped her out of the crypt and back to her home off the coast of one of the capital. There, I met her father, the leader of the coven, Lord Harkon. He wanted to repay me for returning Serana, so he offered his blood—the chance to become a Vampire Lord like him.”

Jason rubbed her ankles. “What made you accept?”

She glanced at him. “He did show me the form of the Vampire Lord and…I was a greedy, power-hungry young woman then,” she admitted somewhat shamefully. “The thought of being able to bend humans into submission by swaying minds and having all that power… spoke to something dark inside me.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat. “I accepted, though it didn’t take long for my heart to change. I got less concerned with power and more concerned with security and ensuring our kind in the castle were safe.”

His hands stopped moving and she looked at him. “What is it?”

“You said you were greedy and power-hungry, but the woman before me hates any form of control, especially the Council.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “If you were as cruel and dark as you said, what changed you mind?” He seemed to remember something. “Did it have to do with your refusal to consume human blood?”

She bared her teeth in a growl, though it was more herself than him. “Divines, I forgot how fast you pick things apart.” (Y/N) sighed heavily and looked away. “…Harkon used to have humans in a dungeon beneath the castle. He called them…cattle. At first, I didn’t mind, but the thing about feeding is that you receive human emotions and memories.”

Her eyes got a faraway look. “It got to the point where I couldn’t bear feeding on them because all I could feel was their despair and agony.” She could feel his hands squeezing her heels. “I went to see an old friend and relayed my problems and he reminded me of something he’d told me a few years before…”

“What did he say?” Jason murmured and (Y/N) turned her attention back to him.

“He said, ‘I once told you when you came to question my death, What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?’ I feel as though now it is your time to look inside and choose.” she paused. “I swore an oath there that I would never again consume the blood of a human. I would overcome my desires and nature and I would do it every day as long as I breathed.”

(Y/N) stared at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of what he told me. I repeat the mantra every day. I live by it.”

Jason merely gazed at her for a moment, then he offered her a small smile. “You’re a strong woman, doll. Stronger than anyone I know.”

She huffed a laugh. “Thank you, Jason, though my strength is nothing compared to some of those heroes on the news.”

He chuckled and shifted her legs apart as he moved up her body. Jason rested comfortably atop her and she threaded on of her hands in his silky hair, scratching her long nails against his scalp.

“Nah, you’re the strongest of them all,” he said, pecking her forehead.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Jason replied, leaning down to kiss her lips, and a shrill ringtone made them both jump. He gave a flustered laugh and reached down his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. “Sorry, thought I had it on silent.”

She giggled. “It’s quite alright, Jason.”

He grinned at her and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Even if she weren’t next to the phone, she could still hear the conversation, her hearing was exceptional even amongst her species.

Jason! Finally! I’ve been calling you like all day!

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I wasn’t answering.”

“Who is it?” she mouthed.

“Dick,” he replied.

What was that?

“Nothing, I was just—”

OH MY GOD! ARE YOU WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?

“No, Dickhead, I’m not.”

IT’S THE GIRLFRIEND, ISN’T IT, LITTLE-WING!

“Little-wing?” (Y/N) snorted and Jason pinched her hip.

“What do you want, Dick?”

Well, now that I know you’re with your girlfriend, can I talk to her?

“No,” Jason scowled, and she held out her hand with that look and he sighed. “Fine, here she is.”

(Y/N) smiled as she heard Dick squeal on the other end. “Hello? Dick?”

Yes! Hi! That’s me! Little-wing’s older brother!

“I know you are,” she replied. “I’m (Y/N), Jason’s girlfriend.”

See, we knew he had one. He’s always rushing around the manor like he’s late for dinner.

She smirked and cocked a brow, looking straight at Jason. “Oh, he is, is he?”

“What’s he saying?” Jason asked and she quickly brought one of her legs up and pushed against his chest, shoving him back to the other side so he couldn’t grab the phone.

“Tell me, does he ever talk about me?”

Oh, never. See he’s super tight lipped.

“Jason doesn’t talk about me?” (Y/N) pouted. “Jay, darling, I’m hurt.”

He tried shoving her leg out of the way, but she didn’t budge. “(Y/N), gimme the phone.”

I know the best way to remedy that, (Y/N)! You should come over to the manor tonight for dinner and we can absolutely humiliate him for you!

Her lips split evilly. “Tonight, for dinner? And here Jason was making some of his famous beef stir fry for me.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

So, you’ll come?

“We’ll be there,” she quipped, winking at a scowling Jason.

Oh my god! GUYS, JASON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT! OH, CRAP ALFRED, WE’RE HAVING A DIN—

Jason yanked the phone from her and hit end call, then leveled her with the darkest glare she’d seen him give—and she loved every second of it, smirking right back. “Why would you do that?” he questioned lowly, and she raised her foot, toeing the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” she replied innocently.

Jason grunted low in his throat and grabbed her foot, sliding his hand up her leg. He got to her upper thigh and curled his hand underneath her, bending her knee up to lay across the back of the couch. Her other leg, practically on its own accord, shifted outwards, allowing him space to lay between her hips and (Y/N) couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he peered up at her, teal eyes narrowed and searching for something in her expression.

“Now we have to go suffer through dinner with my family, (Y/N),” he murmured, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh where her shorts had ridden up.

“It’s only for a few hours,” she huffed, ignoring the urge to thread her fingers in his hair and tug him closer where she wanted him. Jason groaned against her thigh and she shivered as the vibrations sparked deep beneath her skin. She whined lowly and he shifted to her other thigh, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. (Y/N) cursed as he sucked a bruise into her skin, laving the sting with his tongue before dragging it closer to her center.

“Jason,” she gasped, feeling his fingers starting to slide under her shorts, and then he was pulling away, from her body and from the loveseat to stand before her. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do as she stared up at the rather smug looking Jason, one leg cocked up over the couch, the other haphazardly resting on the floor.

“Knowing Alfred, he’ll want us there by six, so we should get ready to go,” he stated before sauntering off towards the bathroom.

She lay there for a moment, heart beating wildly in her chest, then the annoyance flashed across her face and she shouted angrily, but more flustered than anything, “You are such a teasing bastard!” All she heard was a bark of laughter.

[buckysboobs]

BEG ME TO STOP || k.p.

Warnings: degradation, slapping, spit kink, spanking, choking, daddy kink, slight consent play, dom!kai, just 1.6k words of really rough and filthy smut. Also it's my first time writing smut and I got carried away so oops?

He's busy reading the grimoire while she sits and watches him and the way her LED lights cast a reddish hue all over the room. He looked dangerous, and she was feeling like playing with fire.

"Malachai." She calls out, heart thumping against her chest. He replies with a 'Hmm?' without taking his eyes off the book.

"Give me attention."

He looks up at her. She's on the bed laying upside down, eyes hopeful and locked on his crotch. For some reason they're always locked there. It is a very nice sight.

"No." And with that, he's back to reading.

She gets up and slowly walks over to the chair.  She snatches the book away from him and straddles his lap.

His hands push up to her waist to still her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks, gaze hard, an eyebrow raised. She throws the book over her shoulder and looks right into his eyes.

"Daddy, please give me attention." 

Once he realizes what she really wants, his features soften and his hand comes up to cup her cheek.

"Yeah?" he asks. She nods.

It was unpredictable, how he suddenly yanked her by the hair and darned a slap upon her cheek. She moaned, heat rising up her skin. 

"Always so thirsty for daddy's attention, aren't you? Such an attention seeking whore." 

She made the infamous puppy eyes at him, "I'm sorry daddy, just wanted your touch."

"Oh with that attitude i'm gonna give you a hell of a lot more than that." 

With that being said he holds her close and whooshes away to their bedroom. He throws her on the bed, his lips immediately pressing to her lips. She starts sucking on his tongue when his hand wraps around her throat, his fingers applying sight pressure as her mouth snaps open and a gasp escapes the back of her throat.

He spits into her mouth. 

She hums in content, swallowing and opening her mouth for more. He slaps her again. 

"Don't be a greedy bitch now, darling." He commands, lips attaching to her neck and sucking cherry shaded bruises into her skin.

"Daddy please…" she cries, small hands trying to pry open his shirt, "I want to feel you!"

"Of course you do." he smiles, and with a snap of his fingers his shirt is off. She presses her lips to his shoulders, open mouthedly sucking, loving the salty-sweet taste of his skin. His hot breath fans over the side of her neck and down her chest as he's licking wide stripes, fingers pushing into her hips.

"Off." he mumbles against her skin and with a heavy tug, he pulls down her panties. He shoves his fingers into her mouth and she rolls her tongue around them, sucking like there's no tomorrow. He pulls them back with a pop and she blushes red when his index finger rubs against her clit, furiously applying pressure. A heavy gasp escapes her throat when Kai starts kissing down her stomach, licking into her navel and down to her heat. She presses her thighs together, almost trapping his head between them when he pries them apart with his hand and moves back up to lick into her mouth.

"Daddy please…" she whines, pushing her heat back and forth on his fingers, trying to get some friction and he sniggers mockingly.

"Getting yourself off on my fingers… what a fucking slut." With that being said he abruptly reaches down and licks a wide stripe up her gaping cunt.

"Oh shit!" she cries out, earning herself a spank.

Kai's prickly beard rubs against her pussy and inner thighs as he eats her out like she's delicacy, tongue reaching in and out of her core and thumb rubbing harsh circles on her clit. Without warning, he pushes two fingers in and she gasps, hand yanking on the sheets to ground herself.

His experienced mouth sucks on her clit, fingers furiously thrusting in and out of her pussy, mind reveling in her cries and gasps of pleasure and mouth full of her sweet taste. His long and thick fingers scissor her open, thrusting hard against her insides, basically tearing her apart and he's not even started.

She pushes down on his fingers when Kai comes to level with her, whispering dirty things into her ear.

"Grind on 'em," he moans, his dick getting impossibly hard against his jeans at the mouth watering sight of her, skin red, hair spread out all over the sheets and eyes filled with tears. Her mouth looked puffy and a cry escaped her parted lips when he gave a particularly hard thrust with his fingers. 

She feels a heat pool in her belly and cries out, "Daddy i'm close!"

Kai pulls back and she whines in protest. 

"I was so close!" she says, breathing heavily as she watches Kai play with the buckle of his belt. 

"Make daddy feel good and he'll let you come."

That's an offer she can't refuse so it barely takes her a minute before she's on her knees, pulling down Kai's jeans and watching his hard cock bounce against his stomach. Kai's hand comes down to rest atop her head, slightly pulling at a few strands of hair as she takes the tip into her mouth, giving kitten licks to the head.

Kai slaps her across the face, his fingertips burning her skin. "Don't be a tease, bitch."

Tears roll down her cheek and she moans around his cock, taking all of it down, the gag reflex she had worked so hard on finally coming into use. Kai yanks at her hair roughly, thrusting into her mouth while her hands rest on his thighs. He shoves his cock harder into her warm mouth, letting out breathy moans at the sounds of which her heat begins to pool again and her hand reaches down to play with her clit.

Kai sees that and pulls out of her mouth, spitting onto her face and darns another slap onto her cheek. She cries out loud, her pussy pulsing wet and throbbing.

"Nasty little bitch," he snorts bitterly, shoving his cock down her throat again and yanking her head back by the hair, "I didn't allow you to touch yourself, did I?"

She moans and it sends vibrations around his cock, he's thrusting harder when she feels him twitch and his seed is spilling down her throat.

"Swallow it." he warns, even though he knows he doesn't have to tell her. She swallows it like it's delicacy and she's been starving forever, closing her eyes and humming in content. Kai pulls out and she opens her mouth to show him that she had, indeed, swallowed it all.

"That's my girl." he praises and she beams at the response. However, the soft moment is over when he grabs her and pushes her against the wall, tongue plunging into her mouth.

She grips his shoulders but he doesn't take it, instead he thrusts hard into her pussy. His hands find hers and their fingers intwine, Kai holding them beside her head as he thrusts roughly without warning. She cries out, but the pain subsides soon and she's dwelling in the pleasure that comes with his animalistic thrusts. Her body's bobbing up and down with every thrust and Kai is grunting right into her ear, his breath tickling her skin and hands holding her down. She's crying because it feels so good and it hurts so good, his thick cock ramming into her tight cunt and heat striking every inch of her skin, his pubic bone slapping against hers. He pulls out for a second and whooshes them away to the bed where he flips her onto her front and enters her from behind, ripping a scream from her lips. He's cheating with his vampirism too, his thrusts hard and deep when he changes the angle. He grabs her neck and pulls her back up against his chest, pounding into her mercilessly while she screams his name. 

His hand comes down to brush against her clit and she starts to cry even louder, "Fuck! Fuck i'm going to cum!"

"Go on, bitch, come for me" he whispers in her ears but his thrusts never stop, he fucks her through her orgasm, still pounding hard and furious when she begs him to stop.

"That's a good girl, beg." He fucks her hard and rough and she screams, tears rolling down her cheeks and pausing at her chin, her fluids slipping down her thighs. She could have used the safe word if she wanted to , but she truly didn't because the pain and the overstimulation felt so heavenly.

"I'm gonna fill you up." Kai snarls, fucking into her roughly and rubbing fast circles on her clit, lips attaching to her ear, "I'm gonna bury my seed in your tight little cunt, breed you like a bitch in heat."

"Oh god daddy oh shit— FUCK!" she cries as another orgasm washes over her and he thrusts even harder if possible, flipping her onto her back and throwing her legs over his shoulder, he fucks her into oblivion where she's completely at his mercy. 

It hurts so good. She feels his thrusts get slower and realizes he must be close to his own orgasm but this didn't stop him as a loud groan escaped his throat and he fucked her like an animal. 

With another thrust he's spilling into her, washing her pussy with his seed and leaving his cock buried tight into her as he collapses right on top of her, breathing heavily. Her hand comes up to play with his hair and he gives her cheek a soft kiss before pulling out, making her wince.

"I wanna cuddle, daddy." she mumbles, and he smiles at her, laying right beside her on the dirty sheets as he opens his arms and she falls right into them.

___________

@1-800-khaleesii

@rome5683

@genevivetaylor

@slut4kai

@fandom-strumpet <33

[jiminrings]

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

oh

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours — n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

:O

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

oh

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

:)

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"

[daiseukiis]

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 ; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤

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─꒱ in which we peak into how life is as the in-law of the fushiguro family after marrying megumi。

─꒱ feat. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji & fushiguro tsumiki

─꒱ warnings ; profanity, chaotic hot shit

─꒱ notes ; OMG SHOULD I MAKE A SPECIAL WHERE YOU GUYS SEND IN ASKS ABOUT HOW THE NEIGHBOURS REACT TO THE FUSHIGUROS EYVBIJX HAHAHA

─꒱ episode one | 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒 | episode three

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꒰꒰ you love your father-in-law, like you really do love toji, but that worm of his needs to be in a fucking cage.

a loud scream comes from the top of your lungs early in the morning, eyelashes blinking to shoo the drowsiness away after it's been awakened by the warm sun rays that lay atop your eyelids. as much as you love waking up in the morning in bed with your husband, you don't get that luxury sometimes.

"y/n?!" hearing the loud footsteps of your husband rushing towards with another scream from your sister-in-law, the both of them slam the door wide open. "what happened?!" toji is the last to appear to the scene, his expression more on the sight of confusion compared to the worried and panicked facials on megumi and tsumiki's face. "what the fuck?"

"get this fucking worm off me!"

꒰꒰ if that worm wasn't adopted by toji it would've been on fucking sight. that shit uglier then sukuna's stock of human girls for his bitch soup.

꒰꒰ after you told megumi what toji had told you when you were left alone with him ( the sex question ), you are no longer allowed to be alone at home with him. megumi made sure that the dogs are around.

꒰꒰ you found out the hard way that toji has some lameass dad jokes.

you and tsumiki decided to order sushi for dinner due to the fact the both of you were too lazy to cook, seeing how you and megumi came back tired from a mission and toji from one as well, you all felt bad having tsumiki cook all on her own so you bought food instead.

"i'd avoid sushi if i were you, it seems fishy." toji says just as you all prepared the table to eat. you and megumi freeze on the spot, the trio of you all turning your heads towards toji who sports a serious face. megumi groans, "don't ever do that again."

"i thought it was pretty good." tsumiki lets out a small giggle, you smiling that toji was now comfortable to even make jokes after everything. megumi turns to counter his sister's opnion, through you all swore you heard a stifled chuckle come from toji.

'he's laughing at his own jokes!'

꒰꒰ the effort is appreciated though.

꒰꒰ sometimes you and tsumiki buy too many stuff at the groceries, you call megumi to summon nue and get his shikigami to carry it for you two.

꒰꒰ toji offered ( jokingly ) to let you guys use his worm as a storage while you went shopping for groceries once, let's just say he got smacked in the face with a pan.

꒰꒰ it's his fault for joking while you were cooking.

꒰꒰ you were used to waking up three in the morning for anything and seeing your husband and father-in-law tying some burglar or assassin up, but no way were the rest of the family used to you doing the work.

"y/n?" megumi comes walking down the stairs with his father, turning on the lights in the dark hour to gain a shred of shine. the two males see in full picture that you had just finished punching someone in the face, the other hand holding them up by the collar as it physically shows that whoever this guy dressed in black had just failed in whatever mission he had in mind.

"who's that?" toji raises a brow, more so on the fact that he is impressed you beat up the intruder without a single sound in the dead of night. the look of displeasure shows you were in no mood, wanting nothing more than what you had walked downstairs for before this piece of shit decided to ruin your night. you throw the man in black on to the floor, scowling.

"all i wanted was a glass of fucking water, not an assassin who can't even use the front door."

꒰꒰ when you and tsumiki make food in the kitchen, expect a knife to go flying at least once.

꒰꒰ you don't know if you should be thankful to have tsumiki as your sister or not, she's unintentionally scary and she's not even trying.

꒰꒰ somehow you always end up walking into an argument between megumi and toji ( usually after leaving the kitchen to get a snack ) but you instantly walk out because the last time you didn't, shit was ugly.

"hey... can we all just calm down?" tsumiki is in between toji and megumi who are constantly throwing insults and such at each other, whatever argument they were having she tries to settle it down without anyone getting injured.

"i can't when this pathetic excuse of a father can't grow the fuck up!" megumi bellows, glaring at the older man who lets out a tsk and a frown. "watch what you're saying, i'll hand down an ass whoopin' on ya."

'this seems interesting.' you sip on your boba after walking out from the kitchen, the bowl of popcorn just beside you as you ate and speculated. it was normal for the father-son duo to have their fights, usually it was fun to watch because it ended up as good entertainment for you. so in result: you have no intention in stopping them.

"no, guys, seriously..." tsumiki pleads, her hands slightly apart to try and force space between them. though her efforts were thrown out the window when in complete sync did they yell right back at tsumiki. "just mind your own business!"

'they punched her!' the boba fell from your hands and the popcorn flew, much like how tsumiki started to fall back towards the couch. it took less than a millisecond for the two to realize what the did, and they knew they were fucked.

꒰꒰ sometimes you still have nightmares about it.

꒰꒰ there are times that toji would be coming home with a woman tailing behind him, and it's somehow always when megumi and tsumiki are out.

"tadamasu." toji greets as he walks in, talking his footwear off and leaving it in front of the door. you pop your head out from the living room into the hallway of the entrance as you greet him on his return, "hokairi."

"who's the bitch?" you notice a woman who had too much make up to show her curstyass in front of you, a click of your tongue echoes through the two meter distance between you and her as you cross your arms. "who's the slut?"

"youー!" her face twists in fury, heels about to click and clack each step to get to you but is instantly stopped by the sound of toji's deep voice. "get out." the girl looks baffled by his words, face contouring into a smile full on uneasiness. "but tojiー"

"i said get out." his voice is much more prominent and demanding, sending chills down her spine as she steps back in caution. you stand here watching as the woman still refused to leave your home, in seconds did toji grab hold of her wrist and threw her out of the house ( much to the woman's displeasure ). you grin from ear to ear, running out to see her limping her way back to her rented car right beside toji. you call her out, the glare she sends your way is priceless as you stand beside your father-in-law with all the glory in the world.

"by the way, i'm his amazing daughter-in-law! and we have decided that a clown lookin' ass like you doesn't deserve the right to fuck a fushiguro!" you wink.

"yeah, yeah. get back inside, y/n. megumi 'n tsumiki 'ill be back home, don't want them nagging that our y/n got into some cat fight again." you hear toji from inside the house, walking away from your figure. you pout your cheeks out, "it's not a cat fight, it's my bad bitch moves!"

"i'll lock you out."

"this is my house!"

꒰꒰ you stopped questioning megumi and toji's cooking skills because the last time you and tsumiki let them cook dinner, they didn't just burn the eggs they were making but also trashed half the kitchen.

꒰꒰ they made an oil fire that time, and no one knows how but toji was able to get the zenin clan to pay for repairs???

꒰꒰ and apparently for the past five months the zenin clan have been paying for repairs and they didn't even know toji was using their money, well until naobito found out and busted your front door on a weekend.

"toji!" you heard the current head of the zenin's clan voice boom through your house, you also watched the white front door fly through the hallway right before your eyes after you have just watered your little cactuses. in seconds you hear the lazy voice of your father-in-law, emerging from the kitchen with a confused tsumiki. "what do you want."

"how dare you use the zenin clan's money on your mistakes!" naobito starts striding towards toji in anger, your eyes glancing over at your now open door to see naoya waving to you. you lift your waterer up in acknowledgment of his existence before snapping at naobito.

"how about your mistake?" you watch naobito grip on to the collar of toji's shirt, the look of fury engraved on his old face as he glares your way. "what?" he says, dropping toji as he complains about

"you broke my fucking door, you wrinkly ass, dusty, decaying ancient artifact. we just installed that three days ago! the zenin clan better keep paying."

꒰꒰ that door never seems to get a break

꒰꒰ the real reason why you and megumi never moved out of the house is because when you two tried, tsumiki and toji invited themselves into your house and said they were living there.

꒰꒰ your father-in-law makes hundreds of millions of yen, you'd think he'd live on his own but instead he lives with his kids.

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