#“oh yeah. right we’re coworkers now…”

[lowkeyremi]

imagine izuku goes into the break room to take his lunch break. he calls shota “aizawa sensei” when greeting him; shota has to once again remind izuku that he’s not his teacher anymore and he doesn’t have to be so formal with him 🥹💖

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[sinfulspencer]

Once upon a dream

Prompt: It’s difficult to face a coworker you just had a wet dream about…

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic, SoftDom!Spencer, breath play, mating press, fingerfucking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie

Words: 3.3k

A.N.: Enjoy, my sweet filthy friends. And a big thank you to @ameliemaaaee for beta-reading this. 

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“I’m so happy that we’re together again.”

Spencer’s arms caged me against his body as his lips captured mine in a breathtaking kiss, full of longing and desire. The familiar sensation of being home settled in my belly and I basked in it, giggling against Spencer’s mouth. I had missed him so much - I hated when I had to stay behind for a case, but it was for my own well-being.

“We don’t need to talk about the case.”

Spencer agreed with a quick nod. “I’m here for something else.”

His hands quickly found the edge of my long shirt and removed it, leaving me bare in front of him. Spencer quickly kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around his neck, leading him to my bedroom.

I couldn’t care less about talking that night.

As we walked to my bedroom, my feet were colder than usual against the hard flood - definitely an unusual sign, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it. All I could focus on were the skilled hands of the man pressed against me that slid my panties down my thighs, undressing me completely. 

His hungry eyes roamed all over my body and I gasped when Spencer pushed me onto the bed. His attitude was completely different from the one he usually had in the office, but again, we were not at work at that moment.

“A sight to die for.” 

I scoffed, propping myself up on the pillows. “Oh, shut up.”

Spencer crawled on top of me, still completely dressed, and nipped at my bottom lip while both his hands dipped on each side of my head. He smelled like vanilla, a different scent than usual - weird, but again, I couldn’t care less about it.

“We have all night.”

“To sleep?” I asked.

Spencer hummed, running his right hand across my bare chest. “Also that.”

“We have work in the morning.” - I responded - “We have to rest.”

“Yeah, whatever. Later.”

Again, it was a weird thing to say for Spencer. I didn’t think too much of it, enjoying the way his lips devoured mine in a kiss. All I could think about was the way his toned body, still completely dressed, was towering on top of mine. He kissed me hard, reminding myself that he could easily control me. 

The desire I felt for him was overwhelming: it made my hands itch, my thighs tremble, my mind going completely empty. There was nothing else in the world I needed more than Spencer at that moment. I needed to feel his weight on my body, his lips on my neck, his hands on my thighs, his cock inside of me and his semen drip between my thighs at the very end. 

I just needed him to consume me, to make me nothing but his whore.

Spencer pulled away from me and he ran his fingers through his hair, staring down at me. I was pretty sure that I looked wild: my hair was already a mess, my cheeks were burning hot and I was naked. Spencer instead looked beautiful: his hair a mess like mine, his jaw tensed, his eyes with lust flashing behind them.

“Look at you… so pretty.”

I whined, grabbing Spencer’s hand and bringing it to my chest. “Thank you, but I don’t need compliments right now.”

“And what else do you need? Do tell.” - he responded, the gleam in his eyes making me whine - “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. You can tell me anything.”

Shaking my head, I pushed his hand down to reach my breast. Spencer palmed it lightly, still staring at me and waiting for an answer. Despite the obvious aching between my thighs and my desire for him, I was not exactly able to explain to him all the things I had wished he’d do to me. My mind was blank because of him. 

“Your cock.”

It was the only thing that I could come up with and the answer seemed to have pleased Spencer as he laid on top of me again. He had removed his shirt and his belt, leaving everything on the floor, but I was still bothered by his trousers. I needed to see every inch of his body. 

Spencer nipped at my bottom lip, then moved down. His tongue caressed the skin of my throat, travelling down to reach the curve between my breasts.

“Ah, straight to the point.” - Spencer whispered - “I’ll give it to you, my sweet girl.”

Sweet girl. He never called me like that, but I enjoyed the way it rolled off his tongue. 

His tongue moved across my breasts as Spencer’s eyes focused on my face the whole time. I had never felt this good before, pulling on his curls and moaning his name when his tongue flitted over my right nipple. Spencer was gone the moment he saw my boobs.

His left hand groped my other breast, leaving red marks all across my skin. I arched my back in response to his ministrations, whining with my eyes closed. Spencer was so good to me, but the strong vanilla scent was overwhelming. He wasn’t a fan of vanilla, so why did he smell like that?

I forced myself not to think about it, but it was hard.

Spencer closed his mouth around my right nipple and my thoughts disappeared from my head, leaving me crying out a chorus of ‘yes’. He silenced me with a bruising kiss, rolling his hips to grind against mine.

“Shh, no need to be so loud. Wouldn’t want to wake up all the neighbours.”

I moaned on his lips, nodding my head in agreement. In truth, I couldn’t care less about my neighbours at that moment: I just needed Spencer to own me, to make me feel good with any part of his body - whichever he preferred. 

Spencer’s body was flushed to mine and I felt his hard cock against my inner thigh. I gasped and clung to his shoulders, following the rhythm of his hips to feel more and more of him. With his right hand, he yanked my panties down my thighs and threw them somewhere behind him.

“Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.”

I obeyed with no hesitation, opening my legs right in front of him. His eyes followed me down where I needed him to be and he immediately cupped my cunt with the palm of his hand, his middle finger brushing through my folds. 

“So wet I could just slip my cock inside of you.”

I bit my bottom lip, focusing my eyes on his face the whole time. The lustful desire burning behind his eyes made my knees tremble. I swore I saw the shadow of a smirk appear on his lips: one of those dark, wicked smirks that turned me on more than anything in the world.

Spencer lowered his head to your chest and nipped at the soft skin right below my nipple, making me shiver. How could he be so addicting? How could he just bring me to the edge of pleasure with a simple bite?

“Or do you want my fingers first, sweet girl?” Spencer asked

I sighed, glancing at his right hand travelling from my throat down to my hip. His fingers are caressing me gently, sending shivers down my spine, and I looked up at him. I wanted whatever he was willing to give me - I truly did not care at all. I just wanted him to find his pleasure within me.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I responded

Spencer’s lips curled into a smile. “First thought, best thought.”

He slowly trailed his index finger across my wet folds before pushing it inside of me, slipping it to the knuckle. A quiet gasp fell from my lips and I found myself closing my eyes, relaxing. Spencer used his hand to cup my cunt and pressed his palm against it, massaging my clit with his movements. 

God, he was so fucking skilled and I had no idea. Was he truly like that or was it just another wet dream I was having?

The answer did not matter. The pleasure did.

“Look at me.” - Spencer warned me - “Keep your eyes open, sweet girl.”

I struggled to obey him, but I did. I opened my eyes and stared at him with my mouth wide open, giving in to the pleasure he brought me. Spencer slipped another finger inside of me and I moaned again, bracing myself to his taut body with both my hands. 

My fingers dug into his forearm and Spencer whimpered in pain. I didn’t mean to scratch him, I didn't mean to hurt him but in that moment I was so caught up in my own pleasure, in my own desire for the man above me that I could not care any less. Spencer was able to make me forget my neighbours, my inexperience and everything that made me insecure.

And when I tried to speak, the pleasure crashed through me. I felt like all the air had been sucked out of my body and the only sound I could hear was the echo of my own pathetic cries as I reached my peak. Spencer allowed me to ride the waves of my orgasm with his mouth peppering kisses all over me and his fingers pumping rapidly, and yet… All I could think about was the smug smirk on his lips.

God, did it feel good to make him happy.

“That’s it. You did so well, my sweet girl. So proud of you.”

Spencer slowly removed his fingers from my cunt and brought them up to his mouth, tasting me. His eyes were still on my face, but mine were down to his body - where his cock was standing, hard and aching. 

The sight was so erotic it brought me to pull him closer to my body by closing my thighs around his waist. I couldn’t wait any longer. I cradled his face in the palm of my hands and I kissed him hard: I tasted myself on his lips and the fire burned even brighter inside of me. Spencer did not hesitate to grab his cock and push it right inside of me, surprising me. I thought that he’d wait a moment, that he’d enjoy my mouth on his but apparently he was just as desperate as I was. 

The delicious stretch of my body to adjust to his made me whine against his lips, but I never stopped kissing him. Everything that I felt seemed heightened, as if it wasn’t even real - I could not believe it was real.

“Oh, fuck. I did not know you felt this good around my cock.” Spencer whispered

I felt the pool of heat spread between my thighs as I clung to his body, whining and panting his name over and over like a sacrilegious prayer. Everything felt too good all at once and I did not have the time to register that pleasure because Spencer pulled out of me. The loss made me gasp.

“Fuck! No, no. Please.”

I could feel his eyes burning into my skin. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

Spencer somehow got even closer to me: his knees pressed to my thighs as his cock pushed inside of me again, finally filling me up to the brim. The pleasure quickly returned to pinch at my belly and I felt overwhelmed.

The way Spencer looked, the desperate sounds he made, the beads of sweat across his forehead, the strength of his arms, the violent grip his fingers had on my thighs… There wasn’t a single detail of Spencer’s skills and beauty that did not go overlooked. God, he was fucking ethereal and all mine for the night.

Spencer leaned forward, his lips brushing over my right earlobe. “You take me so well. I might keep you around forever.”

His hands caressed my shins and then Spencer forced my legs upon his shoulders. Surprise was written all over my face, but so were pleasure and a delicious hint of pain that made everything even better. I was caged between his body and the soft mattress underneath me: a position that I did not want to escape from.

Spencer was so deep inside of me that I felt him everywhere. I couldn’t even describe the intensity of the pleasure that spread through every inch of my body: it was intoxicating and I never wanted the moment to end. 

He could keep me like that for as long as he pleased.

His eyes never leave my face. Spencer wanted to see me break down because of him, because of the pleasure that only he could bring to me. And I let him, allowing his fingers to dig into my skin to the point I felt it break. 

I rested my hands behind his neck, gripping his curls as I let him take all of the pleasure that he could from my body. Thrust after thrust, I felt the tension slowly come to the tipping point.

“Spencer, please. Please, please.”

All we could hear in my bedroom was the pathetic chant of his name falling from my lips and the snapping thrusts that he gave to me. My fingers scratched his neck and I knew that it must’ve hurt him, but I was glad he didn’t say anything. Maybe he was too focused on fucking me to care about the drops of blood running down of his back.

“Are you going to come for me, sweet girl? Clench your cunt around my cock?”

His dirty words weren’t helping me. The pleasure was almost too much for me to bear and so was the tension that finally exploded. My orgasm rolled in waves through my body, making me arch my back as I whispered his name. 

Over and over, again, Spencer kissed me as he nursed the second orgasm out of my body with that smug smirk over his lips. He was well aware of the power that he had over me and somehow, he took advantage of it. And, God, did it feel so fucking good to be in his skilled hands.

The pleasure never seemed to end. 

I was still there in that delicious limbo that made my thighs tremble, but Spencer’s thrusts became sloppy and I could feel him get close to the edge as well. He was whimpering, whispering my name against my lips and his hands were trembling.

“Can’t.. I need.. Inside of you.”

I mindlessly nodded my head. “Yes. Inside. Please.”

Spencer came inside of me hard, his fingers gripping my thighs so hard that the pain cut through the intense pleasure I was experiencing. His body pressed down against mine, forcing me to take every drop of his essence inside of me like the good girl I was for him.

My thighs were still closed around his waist, hoping that he could not pull away and he did not. He didn’t want to, he wanted to give me everything that he could. And he did.

Spencer kissed me again, but it was a messy and sloppy kiss. My body was so exhausted and aching, but somehow my brain was begging for more. I knew it was the beginning of the end, that Spencer was going to leave soon but I didn’t want him to. 

I needed more. 

Spencer pulled out of my aching body and watched the mess pool down between my thighs, staining the bedsheets underneath me. His lips were still curved into that stupid, smug smirk and I found myself falling for it even harder. How could he be so fucking gorgeous even after fucking me so hard to the point I forgot my own name?

“So pretty. You did so well for me, sweet girl.”

His praise suddenly soothed the aches in my thighs. “For you, always.”

Spencer reached out his hand between my thighs and his index collected some of the liquid spilling out from me, a mix of our orgasms. He did not waste any time and he cleaned up his digit.

“Sweet.”

I shook my head, covering my face with both hands. “God, Spencer…”

“Stop acting as if you don’t like this dirty side of me.” - he teased me, leaving a tentative kiss on my ankle - “I know you love it.”

I didn’t respond to him.

“Now sleep, sweet girl. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

The silence took over the room as Spencer cleaned me up with his fingers and a warm washcloth, a quick reminder that he was still a gentleman. He might’ve fucked me like a whore in the middle of the night, but he was going to treat me like a princess in the morning. 

Or so I thought. 

I must’ve fallen asleep in the blink of an eye because when I woke up, the curtains inside my bedroom were slightly opened and a single ray of sun filtered through. It was morning, very early morning. 

However, everything happened so quickly.

I found myself nestled beneath my warm blanket, completely dressed, and the low sound of music coming from my phone. Confused, I pushed down my own blanket and looked around the room.

Spencer was not there like he promised me he’d be.

What the fuck?

Even more confused than before, I sat up on my bed and looked down. I was still wearing my pyjamas and my underwear; none of the items were broken or ruined by Spencer’s eager fingers to have me. There were no bruises on my thighs, nothing on my neck or my chest either.

What the fuck has happened?

My head hurt as I got up from my bed, trying to understand what had happened the night before. I couldn’t recall Spencer ringing the bell of my apartment, but I remembered vividly the way he pressed me down onto the bed and fucked into me like a mad man.

It couldn’t have just been a dream. Could it?

Sighing, I took my time in the shower. The memories in my mind were simply a dream; a manifestation of the desire I felt for Spencer and that I was yet to confront. But how could I prove that? I couldn’t just call Spencer and ask him about the previous night. I didn’t want him to think I was weird.

And then, my heart dropped. How in the world was I going to face him at work?

However, I needed to. It wasn’t professional to call my boss and ask them to give me a day off just because I had a wet dream about a colleague. So, I put on my best smile and got ready for the day.

As I went up in the elevator, I kept checking my neck for bruises or bite marks. Spencer bit me and grabbed my flesh hard, violently, possessively. It was impossible that my skin wasn’t hurt or didn’t have some kind of mark. However, there was nothing. As if nothing happened the previous night. Maybe it was all a fucking dream. 

A good dream, at least. 

I just needed to get over it. 

It wasn’t the first time that I had a wet dream, but it certainly was the first time that I remembered it so vividly and left me questioning my reality. Also, it was the first wet dream about a colleague which made it even weirder. 

“Good morning everyone!”

Spencer’s familiar voice almost made me collapse down on my knees. I saw him walking inside the office with that usual adorable smile on his face and a familiar pink box in his hands. He brought everyone breakfast. It wasn’t unusual for him, but that smile… and the look on his face made me think that something might’ve happened to him. 

He was unusually chirpy. And most importantly, he wasn’t drinking coffee. 

“Hi Spencer.” I managed to say

Spencer walked past me. His smile turned into a smirk. 

“Good morning, sweet girl.”

Oh, fuck.

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[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[greg-montgomery]

I would love a fic about Reid’s friend coming to visit him at work and as soon as Hotch lays eyes on her it’s love at first sight. But she’s like really girlie and bubbly so the rest of the team is so confused as to why Hotch is so whipped for her :)

“She said that to you?”

“Yeah…I mean the audacity of some people,” you said shaking your head. “I’ve had enough of her. And I promise you, next time I’m telling our manager.” As if to prove the harshness of your words you dropped on his desk a stapler you had been playing with to occupy your hands.

Spencer smiled, entertained as always from your stories involving your least favorite coworker.

“Anyway, enough with her. We can go now, right?”

“Yeah, just let me get all my stuff.”

A deep voice coming from behind you right before you opened your mouth stopped you from complaining. “Reid, that last report needs-

The fact that you turned around to search for the owner of that voice seemed to stop him from speaking any further.

You blinked softly at him melting under the man’s gaze. He was tall, handsome, and looked like he could easily kill you: just your type.  

“Hotch?” you heard your friend’s voice.

That was Hotch?

“You’re Hotch?

“Yeah,” he breathed out a laugh. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” Spencer introduced you to him. “Sorry, she’s just picking me up.”

“That’s alright,” Hotch replied to him while still looking into your eyes. “So I take it you’ve heard about me.”

“Only the best,” you giggled.

“Yes, I’m sure Reid has never complained to you about paperwork or having to work on a weekend,” he rolled his eyes, not entirely convinced.

“I haven’t!” Spencer defended himself.

Hotch laughed and a beautiful smile stuck on his face. No way this was the same man Spencer had talked to you about that ‘never smiled’ and ‘never blinked’.

“Um…you wanted to tell me something about a report?” your friend awkwardly positioned himself next to you trying to get Hotch’s attention.

“Right,” he said. “It’s…it’s fine. It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay.”

--

“Do you see that?” Penelope whispered, grabbing Emily with one hand and JJ with the other.

“What is it?”

“Look,” she said pointing at you from afar.

“Who’s that?” Emily asked.

“And why is Hotch looking at her like he’s about to eat her?” JJ added.

“It’s Y/N, Reid’s best friend.”

“Oh…well good thing she’s not his girlfriend ‘cause…”

“Right?” Garcia said. “Oh my God, do you guys think they’re gonna fall in love? It would be so cute…they will start going on dates and we’re gonna get the weekends off!”

JJ tilted her head observing the pair of you. “You wouldn’t think that’s his type. She looks so…sunshine-y.”

“Well, I think that’s exactly what Hotch needs,” Emily said. “Some sunshine.”

--

“Why didn’t you tell me he was hot?” you asked when you were finally out of everyone’s sight.

“Who?”

“Hotch!”

“Ew…he’s like my dad!”

“To you!” you said opening your car door. “How am I supposed to drive now? My hands are shaking.”

“Because…of my boss?” Spencer asked, sounding confused.

You got into your seat and started giggling, covering your mouth with your hands. “Fuck,” you sighed moving your hands to cup your own cheeks feeling their heat. “This has never happened to me before. I think I just fell in love.”

Spencer gave you a side eye. “We’re still talking about Hotch, right?”

You bit your bottom lip and pulled a little card out of your pocket. “He gave me his number.”

“When did this even happen?”

“When you were putting your stuff in your bag.”

“So he likes you too?”

“I guess,” you smiled.

For a few moments the two of you stared at each other before bursting out in laughter.

“And I always thought Derek would be the one going after you.”

You let out a heavy sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl. “He’s really handsome, Spence.”

“He’s a good man too,” he said.

“So you approve?”

“I would never stand in the way between you and my father figure.”

“Shut up,” you laughed and started your car.

part 2

[oneforthemunny]

surprise, surprise |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie forgets your birthday. or maybe he doesn't.

my birthday is in a few days and i wanted to write a little birthday ficlet blurb :) no aus, just eddie.

contains: angst/fluff. birthday doom. kinda asshole eddie?? kinda asshole friends?? really fluffy sweet ending. language.

“So,” Heather leaned over, chin propped in her hands dramatically slumped over the counter. “What’re you doing this weekend?” 

“Nothing,” You hummed, fingers flicking through the crinkled bills. “Why? You know something fun going on?” 

“It’s your birthday.” Heather gawked playfully. “You’re not doing anything for your birthday?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly, pushing the cash drawer closed. “No.” You shook your head, voice tight. 

“Eddie isn’t taking you out?” Heather’s brows furrowed. “Or you’re not going home? Going out? Are you getting a cake?” 

Your heart sank, a familiar burn rising in your chest. You didn’t speak about your birthday much, not much of an occasion for celebration to you, more of one that was dreadful. Another year closer to death, you’d grumble cynically. Still, when Eddie hadn’t even acknowledged it, when your friends had all blown you off for other plans, a new kind of ache formed in your chest. The sting of being forgotten, of being unimportant and discarded- on your birthday. 

It left a bitter taste on your tongue, sardonic and painful when you spoke about your impending birthdate. “No,” You shook your head, chin ducked to your chest. You had never wanted a customer to come in so badly, save you from this painful conversation with your co-worker. “They’re all busy.” 

“Oh.” Heather quipped, face falling at your tone. 

“I mean, it’s my fault.” You added quickly- defensively. Why you were so defensive over the people who had discarded you so easily, you weren’t sure. “I should have planned something earlier, but… I dunno, I got busy and life got super hectic and it just slipped past me-” 

“-No,” Heather shook her head, curls unmoving with the abundance of Aquanet she used, still. “That’s really shitty of them, all of them. It’s your birthday.” 

You stayed silent, wiping the counter half heartedly, swallowing back the familiar burn in your throat that choked you. “I mean, if it was my girlfriend or my friend, I would be buggin’ about their birthday.” Heather shrugged. 

“Yeah, me too.” You muttered. Bouts of memories pouring back into your mind. How you’d planned a party for Eddie, baked him some stupid cake from scratch that was in the Lord of the Rings. You’d gone to countless second hand stores trying to find the ancient recipe, and it took you a day to perfect. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to take you out? Get you a cheap store bought cake? 

“I’m sorry.” Heather muttered, a solemn, nearly guilty pout on her lips. “Well, you’re off tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I get off at three. What if we go out? We can go to the bar- oh, there’s this new band playing in Franklin. Tommy could drive us.” Heather, ever the bubbly optimist, grinned, eyes shining with pride. It was endearing, made your heart squeeze with an ache you weren’t quite sure how to describe. 

“I’ll even get you a cupcake. A good one, from Nadia’s.” Heather added. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You shook your head lightly. You and Heather were work friends, hung out on the rare occasion after work to bitch about work, about the other coworkers, the pain-in-the-ass customers of the day over glasses of Pinot. Selfishly, it felt nice to have someone excited for your birthday. 

You hated that you wished it was Eddie, your own friends. 

“What’s your flavor, hm? Chocolate?” Heather pressed, brushing you off cheerily. 

“Don’t get me a cupcake. I’ll throw it up if we’re drinking. All the icing and liquor.” You snarled your nose playfully. 

“Fine. I’m buying you a drink then.” Heather nodded. She paused, nails drumming on the counter too. “And, I mean, if you want Eddie to come too, of course he’s invited.” Her eyes cut to yours carefully. “I didn’t know if you wanted him to come.” 

“I mean, I don’t know if he’d even be able to.” Your lips pursed, a cutting edge of annoyance in your tone. “He’s so busy.” 

Heather cringed, shooting you an apologetic look. “Yeah, that… I’m sorry, that sucks.” She mumbled. 

A stiff silence fell between the two of you over the whirr of the air conditioning blowing through the vents. “Since it’s so dead, why don’t you go early?” Heather suggested. “I can cover closing.” 

“Heather, Mel will be pissed-” 

“-Mel will be pissed if she has to pay both of us for standing around.” Heather gave you a pointed look. “And you came in before me. I got it.” 

“Are you sure?” You hesitated. “I don’t care to stay in case there’s a rush-” 

“-At seven?” Heather scoffed slightly. “Go. I’ve got it.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m on my way, ‘kay?” Heather chirped. 

“See you then.” You waved, cringing at the sing-songy Happy birthday! Heather shouted at you. 

You pulled open your cubby, gathering your purse, your umbrella. You wrote your time on the clipboard, the phone taunting you on the hook next to it. Any other day, you’d call Eddie- call home or the shop, wherever he was, just to let him know you’d be home early. He’d always reply with a silly comment that had your cheeks rushing with heat, warmth swelling in your chest. 

Tonight, you decided against it. He was too busy, anyway. Too busy at the shop, with his friends, at band practice. You tried not to dwell on it, let your mind spiral and spin down a damning dark hole of what ifs. It consumed you anyways, on your drive home, the radio playing on a static filled station that you didn’t bother to change. Background noise drowned out by your own hammering heart. 

Eddie’s van was parked in the gravel of his driveway, leaving just enough space for you to slide in under the covering attached to the trailer. He always let you have that spot, closer to the door, protected from the elements- so considerate. 

It was hard to fathom that it was the same boy who had forgotten your birthday, brushed it off like it was just another day. 

Your throat tightened around the ever growing lump, hands tight from the white knuckled grip you had on the wheel when you turned the keys out of the ignition. The stairs squeaked under your weight, the screen door hissing with the familiar soft screech when you pulled it open. 

“No- Henderson, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Eddie huffed, his voice trailing in from the living room. 

You paused, hand catching the door as it fell, quieting it as it latched. The air was thick, warm with a sticky, sweet smell. Music playing in a low hum from Eddie’s beloved boom box he kept in the living room. 

“You said to hang it!” Dustin’s shrill tone cut through the air. 

“Yeah, hang it high- Jesus Christ, I shoulda just waited until Robin got off.” Eddie was hidden by the wall, but you could practically see him pinching his nose, hand running over his curly bangs. “Can you- Can you go see if we can ice the cake yet?” 

“Yeah, what do I do?” Dustin questioned, a silence falling between the two of them. Your lips curled, swallowing a giggle. “What? I’m not a master chef or something. You act like I should know this. There wasn’t a cake making class-” 

“-There was, you moron. Home Ec, which clearly, you failed.” Eddie huffed in annoyance. You froze at his heavy footsteps, voice carrying closer and closer.“Whatever, can you- just make it look nice in here? Put the rest of the streamers up and- shit!” Eddie flinched, jumping at the sight of you in the doorway. Wide eyed and still, like you’d been caught. 

“Baby,” Eddie’s breath startled. “Hey, uh, what are you- you said you didn’t get- you’re home already?” His voice lifted, carried high in a squeak of surprise. 

“Yeah, I got off early. I thought you were working late.” Your brows furrowed at the tear of plastic, leaning to look around the corner. “What are you doing-” 

“-Don’t look in there.” Eddie snapped, his hand falling on the doorframe, arm blocking your vision. You jumped, glaring at him with annoyance. “I thought you closed tonight?” 

“I thought you closed tonight.” You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Clearly that’s not true. What is this? Another campaign night?” You rolled your eyes, body burning with irritation, jaw wound tight with it. 

“What? N-No, I-I thought you wouldn’t be home until later, and I’d have more time-” Eddie rambled, side stepping to block your view behind him. 

“-Ed, I don’t care if that’s what it is.” Your shoulders deflated, a wave of painful exhaustion, disappointment falling over you. “I just wish you would’ve let me know before you invite all these people over to play your game, so I could-” A shimmering glimmer of multicolored sequins caught your eyes, shining in the yellowed light of the kitchen, iridescent hued droplets cast over the cabinets. There, draped over the chair in bright, glittering letters, a small sash that read Happy Birthday! in obnoxiously big letters. 

You paused, eyes scanning towards the cake, cooling on the rack next to the mixing bowl of icing, the icing spatula still in it. Paper mache streamers taped to the ceiling, hung in swooping bouts mixed with the shiny streamers and balloons all the way to the living room. Eddie had brought out the folding table from the crawl space, even put a plastic tablecloth from the store over it to hide the yellowing stains that would never fade. 

Dustin’s eyes met yours, wide and darting between you and Eddie, still holding the roll of streamers he’d yet to hang. “Uh, Happy Birthday?” Dustin shrugged. 

Eddie huffed, shaking his head at him. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Eddie’s foot bounced with anxious adrenaline. “I thought you didn’t get off until eight, and-and I had it all planned, sweetheart, I really did. Steve’s getting the pizza, and everyone’s coming over at seven thirty-ish, and I- I was even going to have them park at Wayne’s in the back so you wouldn’t see.” 

Your chest felt deflated, void of any air, words, anything. Eddie chewed on his lip, hands twitching next to his jeans. “It was going to be this whole thing, fuck!” He huffed. “It was going to be a whole big thing, and…” 

Eddie’s heart leapt when your eyes finally met his. His fingers still drummed against the rough material of his jeans, veins filled with icy excitement, fear, anticipation? He wasn’t sure. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, stepping to hover over you, voice dropping to a soft coo, hands sliding over your cheeks. “I’m- I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

You swallowed thickly. Eddie’s touch was soft, but it left you with a tingling burn when his thumb delicately traced your cheek bone. “You- This is for me?” You squeaked. 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, brows creasing. “Well, yeah.” He said playfully. “Who else would it be for?” 

Your brain was deafeningly silent, stunned at every new detail you’d discover. “You said you were busy.” Was all you could muster out, blinking up at Eddie. “You said you had to work late.” 

“I might have fibbed a little.” Eddie tilted his head sillily. “Told a little lie so I could get this set up.” He nodded towards the living room, a balloon floating near the doorway. 

“I just really wanted to surprise you.” Eddie’s shoulders fell. “I was trying to outdo you. Tryna out do what you did for mine. I called all your friends- even Alexandra,” You rolled your eyes at the mention, she was Eddie’s least favorite friend of yours. 

“And I… I just wanted to surprise you.” Eddie blinked down at you. “Just wanted your day to be special.” 

Your day, the phrase wrapped around you, swirled through your veins like a warm hug, squeezing your heart. 

“I’m sorry, it… I didn’t think about work.” Eddie shook his head, running a hand over his forehead. “I didn’t even think about it, and I-” 

“-Eddie,” Your voice caught in your throat. 

Eddie tensed, cringing with expectant dread. He’d ruined it, blew it, the tears were coming and they were deserved. You’d done so well on his, surprised the hell out of him with the cake, decorated for his birthday campaign with lanterns and candles you’d thrifted. Gone all out for him, and he couldn’t even pull off a simple surprise party. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, head pressing to yours. His eyes cut around the room, making sure a certain Henderson pest was lurking. 

“Sorry?” You repeated. “Eddie, I-I am surprised.” You choked out, looking around the room with gleaming eyes. 

Eddie paused. “You are?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I thought you’d forgotten.” You admitted. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”  

Eddie’s brows pinched in a confused scowl. “You thought I’d forget?” He muttered. 

A watery laugh fell from your lips before you could stop it. “Yeah.” You admitted. “You were really convincing.” 

Eddie’s chest boasted playfully. “Oscar worthy?” 

“You’d sweep the competition.” You jested back, arms sliding over his forearms. His hands found home on the small of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“I didn’t forget your birthday.” Eddie said softly. “Just… for the record.” 

“I can see that.” You giggled. “Thank you. It’s-It’s really sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” Eddie’s hands rubbed down your spine. “It would look better but… Robin and Nancy didn’t get off until later, and it’s just me and Henderson.” 

“It looks great. Perfect.” Your cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His nice shirt, Eddie always called it. Broke it out for special occasions. 

“Not perfect. Fucked up the main part.” Eddie grumbled. “I can call everyone, let them know that they can park out front since there’s no surprise anymore.” 

“No, don’t do that.” You shook your head lightly, chin propping against his chest to look up at him. “I’ll leave and come back, and you can still do it. I can pretend to be surprised.” 

Eddie’s lips curled, pulling back to look down at you. “You’re gonna pretend?” He tilted his head. 

“My turn to act.” You teased, brow lifting gently. “Give you some competition.” You poked his tummy playfully. 

Eddie grinned, pulling you back into him, lips sliding over yours in a soft kiss you savored. Melting into each other, fusing into a gooey puddle- it was corny, a cliche. One you’d roll your eyes at if it was anyone else. 

“Happy birthday.” Eddie muttered, lips brushing and tickling your own. 

“Thank you.” You whispered back, hands finding the base of his neck, pushing him back into you. Eddie’s hand fell against the wooden door frame, steadying himself in a rapidly heating makeout. 

“Uh,” Dustin’s voice interrupted the two of you, just as Eddie’s hands were sliding under your work blouse. “Yeah, I-I finished with the streamers.” 

Eddie glared at him, jaw ticking in annoyance when you pulled away. “I’m just going to grab my makeup bag, and I’ll go.” You whispered, cheeks flooding with heat. 

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes at Dustin when you left. “What? What did I do?” Dustin threw his hands out. 

“Such a fuckin’ cock block, Henderson.” Eddie muttered, stomping into the kitchen. “Put the plates and shit out, will ya?” 

Your performance was Oscar worthy, Eddie decided later, when you stepped through the door of the now darkened trailer, gasping when the lights flickered on and everyone jumped out. You looked positively radiant, glowing with excitement at the small crowd of friends crammed into the doorway. Eddie kissed you, sloppier than he should have, especially in front of everyone, but he didn’t care. Overwhelmed with affection for you. 

He couldn’t tell if you were still pretending when he brought out the cake, the room singing in a harmonious tone to you, candles lit and glowing in the dim light. Eddie didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled, fingers pressed to your lips at the now iced cake. When your fingers curled under his chin, sharing a fork-full of cake with him, kissing him after so quickly it left his head spinning. 

His birthday girl, it was your day. Eddie never thought he’d love a random day as much as he did. He had no idea how important that day would become when he’d first met you, how it would engrave itself in his mind forever. 

He was glad it did. Looking at you, giggling with your friends on the couch, then again, the next night, singing with Heather at the crowded bar- Eddie’s chest heart swelled. Proud that he’d surprised you, hopeful that he’d get to for the rest of his life. 

Next year, he’d do it right. Really pull off the party you deserved. He’d start saving now, planning too. He decided it that night, tucked between the sheets, your head still on his sweat soaked chest. He could still taste you on his tongue, lips numb from the time he’d spent between your legs. Lashes fluttering in sleep, curled into him, Eddie pulled you closer. He’d get it right next year, you deserved it. 

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

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Masterlist

[tojisun]

cw: smut (mxm-centric at first); mentioned pegging; poly!!; i fucked up the canon but it is what it is; this is just smthn short and super rambly :(( // divider by @/plutism

poolverine fucking in the odyssey, but they (mostly wade) keep taunting each other by name-dropping you because before this, before anything, you are the only unifying connection they both have—you are a friendly coworker of wade’s, and you are the only one with enough patience to listen to logan’s drunken musings.

you are the only thing they want to come home to. wherever home that would be.

(wade wants to protect you; logan wants a reality where he makes things right. somewhere along the way, this mission found its centre piece and it’s always you.)

it starts with wade. he’d been quiet for all the three seconds that he’s gobbling up all of logan’s cock, before he tips his head up with a manic giggle. it would have exposed the column of his neck if it wasn’t for his mask, and logan’s gums itch with the need to bury his teeth on wade’s skin; he wants ro dig them enough that they’d tear through, and leave a long-lasting mark to get him and wade by.

he twitches, muscles rippling as he prepares to pull him close, but then wade rasps out, “peanut wouldn’t believe ‘er eyes if she’d been here.”

it punches the air out from logan’s lungs and he snarls, blood jumping at the reminder of his failure because it is, otherwise you would be here by his side right now.

“shut yer mouth.”

wade hums, unperturbed, and raises his hips just enough to drag logan’s cock out, before fucking back down on it. it makes logan hiss, pleasure blinding him, and wade moans in tandem.

logan enjoys only a handful of blissful moments—wade is warm and perfect on top of him—until wade begins to babble mindlessly again.

“but she’d—ah!—love to hear this,” wade trills, sounding so giddy. “she’d be so excited—hn!—to know we’re gettin’ along!”

“she won’t know,” logan snaps, threatening. “because you won’t tell.”

(tthey both know that the anger and the growling are just a front because logan has been so unbelievably gentle with wade ever since their last duel. his touch is ever so conscious now as he holds onto wade’s waist, and he rubs soothing nothings on whatever patch of skin he can reach with his thumbs.

wade is—

wade is the one good thing in logan’s life right now; the closest one he can hold and protect because you’re somewhere he can’t reach. wade is the reminder that there is something worth fighting for, worth living for, and so he holds him like the gift he is.

he lo—

he cares for wade, which is why being soft to him comes easy.)

wade lets out another manic giggle, and presses close to nuzzle the muzzle of his mask on logan’s chin.

“but don’t you want to me to show her how you fucked me? maybe we can even recreate it before you fuck her because this—” wade clenches around logan’s cock, “will ruin her pussy. let me prepare her for you, huh?”

logan doesn’t reply—he doesn’t think he can, not with wade’s words swirling in his mind. the thought of wade teaching you how to please logan; of wade fucking you wet and loose for logan; of wade breaking you in for logan has him moaning, his own restraint snapping as his pleasure bloats.

he fucks up, matching wade’s bounces, and wade trills a breathy laugh, the sound of it curling into a drawn-out moan.

“oh, so you liked ‘at, huh?” wade purrs. “‘cause i did too.”

.

logan leans back to his seat, his cock twitching underneath his pants in interest because this? this is better than he’d imagined. he knows it’s better than what wade was expecting too, if the whimpered groans of his pleasure were to be used as points of reference.

“you ready for me, baby?” you croon as you rut the length of your strap against wade’s cock—the size differences comical, especially as it has wade stuttering in apprehension.

“uh,” wade says, blinking at you owlishly. “yeah?”

you hum, endeared. “good boy.”

logan watches, his throat parched, as you begin to fuck wade. it is hot, truly, but guess he’d have to break you in himself, huh bubsy?

[seouljazzbar]

BUNK 19

SONG EUNSEOK (송은석)

☆ BUNK 19

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ what happens in bunk 19 does in fact stay in bunk 19. and the boathouse. and the dining hall. and the tennis courts. and the counselor jacuzzi.

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, fake camp name, aespa + nct appearances, a smidge of angst, penetrative sex (f. receiving, both vaginal and anal), lots of spitting, a challengers reference if you squint, object insertion (do not try this at home), unprotected sex, daddy kink, random fluff, two seconds of physical violence

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ camp counselor!eunseok x camp counselor!reader (camp counselor au, summer fling to...?)

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 8k of wickedness

THIS FIC FEELS LIKE 𓂃 ࣪˖ buzzin by shwayze

“Who else is here?”

It was the first question out of Eunseok’s mouth when he got settled into his cabin for the summer: bunk nineteen. That was the very first bunk he stayed in when he became a counselor freshman year of university. Now a recent graduate, this was going to be his last summer at Camp Watauga before entering the workforce. He intended to soak up every minute of it with no regrets.

“The staff are filtering in slowly, but not too many counselors just yet. You, Mark, and ___.” 

His ears perked up at the mention of your name, but he kept a cool exterior. “Oh, really? Not too many indeed.” His hands made home in his pockets as Director Irwin led him to the main hall. There was nothing but the echo of footsteps and birds chirping just outside as they walked to the break room, and that’s when he heard it. Your voice. 

Mark was laughing at something you said, something Eunseok missed entirely. “Hi, ___. Mark.”

You spun on your heels without thinking twice, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of all five eight and eleven inches of him. He looked different— hair lighter, jaw sharper, shoulders wider. But you didn’t let yourself focus on him for more than the appropriate amount of time to stare at your coworker: one and a half seconds, exactly. “Eunseok, hey!” Your tone was light, casual. Easy breezy.

“Alright, well now that you’re all checked in, you’re free to roam! Kitchen’s doing meals same time as regular camp hours, if you get hungry. Just, please, no illegal substances where I can see ‘em. I wanna be able to keep plausible deniability.”

Director Irwin left without a glance back at the three of you, all of you erupting into a fit of giggles the second you heard the door shut. “Dude, he’s so funny without even trying to be.” Mark nudged at your shoulder, looking at Eunseok with a goofy grin on his face. “Right?”

“Yeah, I always forget just how weird he gets,” Eunseok returned the smile, looking over to see if you were smiling too. That gorgeous, sparkling smile. “What are you two gonna get into for the rest of the day? At least until dinner.”

Mark stretched his hands in the air, his shirt riding up just enough to expose his taut abs. Eunseok noticed your eyes on Mark’s skin, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. “I was thinking about going into town, getting a couple cases of beer or something for the kickback tomorrow night. Minjeong, Jimin, and Haechan get in tomorrow and we’re gonna have a pre-camp rager. You guys down?”

“Ooh, I’m always down for a party with Jimin. She knows how to let loose.” You winked at Mark, blush instantly striking his cheeks.

“Alright, cool, I’ll make sure to get enough then,” His head turned over to Eunseok, “What about you, bro?”

A party was not his plan for tomorrow night, but he figured it’d be easier to play along for now. “Yeah, sounds fun,” He pulled his sunglasses down over the bridge of his nose, “I like Modelo.”

Mark laughed, heartily. He was so easily amused. “Alright, I’ll catch y’all at dinner?” He was out the door after two quick side-hugs, shaking his keys all the way to his car. The engine was loud as it started up, and you could hear the car shifting its way up the gravel driveway. The hall was quiet otherwise, just the smacking of Eunseok’s chewing gum, the minty peppermint wafting far enough for you to smell it on his breath. 

You moved first, pushing him by the shoulder as he kept his arms crossed against his chest. “Oh, c’mon. You can’t really think I want Mark.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“I mean, he’s cool and all. And really hot, but… you’re sluttier.”

Eunseok rolls his eyes, closing the gap between the two of you, caging you against one of the break benches. “Hm, that’s it? You only want me because you think I’m a sure thing? Well I never!”

You giggle, glancing around the break room before swooping in for a kiss. Sweet, soft lips that you had been dreaming about for nine long months. His sunglasses smushed against your face but you ignored the slight discomfort as his hands found your ass. A handful for each of his palms, fingers kneading into each cheek with appreciation. You could feel your nipples hardening against his chest, the paper thin material of your bra heightening the sensation of his firm pecs. Eunseok was making you all warm and fuzzy again. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? You sure? Sure you didn’t miss Mark Lee more?”

“You’re so annoying! Wasting valuable time talking about a nonissue.”

His hands spread your cheeks apart just barely, just enough for you to take notice. “Valuable time? What else do you reckon we could be doing right now?”

Your mouth fell open as he kissed along your jawline. “W-Well I was thinking…”

“Mhm?”

He took a detour down your neck, floating right to your sweet spot just beneath your earlobe. “The counselor cabins are really close by, i-if you’re free.” Keeping your eyes open was a chore as he nipped at the skin of your neck erotically. “Eunseok, seriously. We’re gonna get caught.”

“What, that doesn’t turn you on anymore?” His palm revved back to strike your ass, squeezing afterwards to soothe the skin. “You know I’m always free for you, ___.”

Eunseok could smell your arousal through the thin material of your panties and shorts, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as all the blood in his body rushed to the front of his pants. Any notion of taking it slow with you went out the window as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in the direction of BUNK NINETEEN. Since Mark had already started his journey into town and Director Irwin never left the movie room during his downtime, Eunseok didn’t feel the need to be sneaky while getting you into his cabin.

Sure, there were unspoken rules about how awkward it would be to have counselors wreaking sexual havoc for three months straight, but nothing in the handbook. The secrecy derived from how private both you and Eunseok were with your personal lives. It was nobody’s business who you were fucking, and if you two ever decided to stop, you didn’t want relative strangers feeling emboldened to ask questions. Plus, the sneaking around made everything that much hotter.

The cabins had been updated in recent years, and with that came much needed aesthetic and technological improvements. A few touches made the bunks a little less shabby chic and a bit more glamping. It was still ‘granola’, so to speak, but the doors locked automatically behind you. The interior was softer around the edges, no chances of splinters or wolf spiders keeping you up at night. Eunseok had made sure to make up his bed when he first unpacked an hour or so ago, knowing that he’d have company in the form of his summer lover.

“Cute sheets.” They were the same sheets he’d brought to camp for the last four years, with a flower you’d embroidered for each year you and Eunseok had done camp as counselors together. Three wacky looking blossoms in different colors with the years stitched beneath them, a little reminder of your place in his life. You couldn’t wait to add this year’s.

“Thanks, this girl I’m seeing really likes stabbing at it every year.”

He grabbed onto your arm as you shoved at his chest, pulling you into him. “Shut up, you like it.”

“Never said I didn’t like it.” His mouth was warm against yours, lips still wet from the kiss in the break room. Your nerve endings were on fire now that it was truly just the two of you, no chance of being interrupted. Swallowing the taste of your cherry cola lip gloss, a long lasting favorite that Eunseok mentioned liking the first time the two of you kissed back when you were mere campers. A clumsy, barely there kiss during a game of spin the bottle. ‘Wow, delicious’ he said offhandedly, making everyone giggle and making you quite popular with the guys that summer. Everyone wanted to get a taste of your fizzy lipsmackers. “Tastes so good.”

Your cheeks ached as you smiled involuntarily, his compliment flying straight to your ego. The idea that he craves you when you’re apart made you feel powerful beyond comprehension. “What, none of your little Stanford groupies wear lipsmackers?”

“What groupies?” His slightly calloused hands eased up your torso, fiddling with the fabric of your bralette to roll it up above your chest. Your breasts felt so heavy in his hands, full and swollen just waiting for him to play with. “No groupies. Just the memory of you and my right hand.”

He lifted your shirt clean off of your body, leaving your chest exposed to the balmy air of the cabin. “I always took you for a lefty.”

Another fit of laughter befell the two of you as he pinched your hip, kissing you with resumed passion. The way the sunlight hit you through the moss colored blinds made his heart skip a beat, the golden flecks in your skin glittering for him with radiance. “Take off your shorts for me. Slowly.” 

A string of saliva fell onto your chin as you stepped away from him, eyes on his that were already watching you as your hands pushed down atop your cotton shorts. You were slow, following his instructions exactly and leaving your panties on underneath. The material hit the wooden floor with a dense thud, your gaze never leaving Eunseok. Your bralette rested awkwardly beneath your armpits for just a few more moments, Eunseok moving just enough to pull it off for you. And there you stood, almost completely naked in your Birkenstocks while he was fully dressed in his usual Camp Watauga garb. “You’re a siren sent for my demise.”

He was sincere, eyes glinting in their candor. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Because you deserve it.” Eunseok kicked his shoes off as he walked the two of you to the bed, his touch tender as your back hit the mattress, careful not to bump into you roughly. The wet patch of your underwear was blatantly obvious as he got a flash between your legs, and it turned him on even more to know you were just as worked up as he was. “What do you do when you think about me?”

You shuddered under the intensity of his leer. “W-what makes you so sure I think about you?”

Eunseok scoffs, lowering his hips to press them square against yours. “Please, I’ve heard the audio messages you send me at two in the morning. You’re so wet the microphone picks it up. I swear, the way you cry into your phone just thinking about what I’d do to you is louder than how you get when I’m actually with you.”

The feeling of his cock swelling against your thigh made you wrap your legs around his hips, locking him flush against you; nothing but thin panties and his basketball shorts keeping you from what you really came here for. “Mm, okay, so what. You win. I think about you. You get my fingers nice and sticky.”

“So show me… tell me what you think about.” He sat back to pull his shirt off, chest exposing a well hidden surprise. 

Your fingers flitted across his nipples, both of them sporting little silver hoops pierced through them. “Woah, Seokie, I had no idea how hardcore you were.” In the roughly forty weeks that you were apart, he’d gotten drunk on a night out and got his nipples pierced.

“Make fun all you want, but I know you like ‘em.” Your tongue replaced your curious thumbs, swirling around the jewelry like you were trying to find the center of a tootsie pop. Eunseok’s hips undulated your drenched underwear while you got lost in sucking his pecs, giving each one equal attention until tugging at one with your teeth. He hissed, bucking against your pussy harshly at the sting. “Ah, fuck, ___. That hurt.”

Kiss swollen lips all moistened, you pulled away from Eunseok’s chest with a sardonic grin. “What, that doesn’t turn you on anymore?” 

His hands shoot out to pin your thighs to the bed, leaving your cunt exposed for him to grind against in a choppy rhythm. “You’re feeling feisty today, aren’t you?”

“Just like messing with you, s’all.”

Eunseok wasn’t in any mood to punish you, using his fingers to feel the outline of your pussy lips through the flimsy cotton. “I’ll give you a pass. Reunion immunity, or whatever.”

“Thank you, daddy.” 

He was instantly smug at the name rolling off your tongue, chest swelling with pride as you pawed at the waist of his basketball shorts. “Can only call me that if you’re gonna be good the whole time. Are you gonna be good?”

Eyes aglow with mischief, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you nodded. It was hard to promise obedience when you were so used to being defiant with him, so used to being a brat because Eunseok always has so much fun taming you. But you’d try, if it was what he wanted from you.

“Wanna hear you say it for me, darling.”

His fingers were no longer idle by his side, instead cupping your mound as he waited for you to speak. “I’ll be good, daddy, I promise.” A sharp tug at your panties threatened to tear them but he stopped his movements just in time. Your wetness was the star of the show, glistening in the bright light of day for Eunseok to relish in. Basking in just how riled up you were, leaking with arousal without him really getting to touch you. He slid your panties down your legs, tossing them just over the edge of the mattress so you wouldn’t have to go searching for them later. “Wan’ you to finger me.”

“Thought I told you to play with yourself for me,” Another gush of wetness dribbled out of your core as he blew at it. “Though it doesn’t look like you really need it, you could take it all in one thrust.” 

You pulled at the hem of his shorts so they’d hang lower on his hips, the base of his cock visible from the way they hit his thighs. “But, daddy, I want it.”

“You’re so full of it, ___, you said you’d be good for me,” Eunseok pushed away from you just long enough to pull his basketball shorts off. “You’re awfully greedy, like you haven’t been fucked properly in far too long.”

His cock bobbed as it was released, twitching at attention while you drooled at the sight of it. “It’s been so long, Seok.”

Eunseok decided in that moment to give you what you’d been begging for, slathering his cock in the wetness that was smeared across your pussy lips. He was completely soaked in you without even putting it in yet. “Think you can take it all, baby?”

He knew you could, you’d been taking his cock like a sleeve for the past four years. But watching your bottom lip quiver in anticipation, nails gripping into the mattress, arms propping yourself up so you could have an unobstructed view to him fucking you open; it made him want to perform for you, give you something mouthwatering to remember him by. 

Your body welcomed him like it had a hundred times over. It felt like coming home, having him stuffed inside you again after dreaming about it for so long. Eunseok always fit so perfectly inside of you, like you were a match made in heaven blessed to find each other in this lifetime. Your mewls were a forgotten melody against his ears, his stomach turning at the sight of you underneath him again. “More.”

“Take what I’m giving you like a good slut and I’ll give you more.” Your nose was buried in his neck as his body caged you against the mattress— completely drenched in him as his skin fused to yours, the slight tackiness of sweat emboldening the waves of Eunseok enveloping your senses. That winsome and creamy essence would always remind you of his hips grinding against yours, deep and slow just to tease you. Just to make you gasp out beneath him and beg for more. And begging wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so damn cocky.

Eunseok was so good at talking you through his strokes, the vibrations of his voice louder against your chest than he was in your ear. It was so easy for him to make your mind feel all fuzzy just by being around you, that sweet peach smell so specific to him. You liked being so inundated by him, liked feeling like you were drowning in a sea of nothing but him all the time. Loved not knowing where he ended and you began because he was just so all consuming. You loved being his. “You look so beautiful like this.” Your breath caught in your throat, fingernails digging into his bicep as his lips ghosted your cheek. You were convinced he’d never felt this good before. “So pretty.”

“Fuck me hard,” your voice was whiny and pathetic, just the way Eunseok liked it (even when you were defying him). “I’ll be prettier— I-I’ll be prettier if you fuck me harder.”

Something flashed across his face far too quickly for you to catch it, his eyes widening just for a moment as he faltered from the leisurely pace he’d set. Eunseok was trying his hardest to be a little gentler with you since so much of your sex life was rough and fast. He didn’t mind slowing things down and showering you with a bit more affection and flowery sweet nothings. But he was only so strong, couldn’t resist you pleading with him, voice so desperate. How could he possibly deny you when you asked him like that?

His hips snapped forward as your hands snaked down his back, mouth cracking open at the delicious change in rhythm. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you dizzy?”

A whimper escaped your throat as one of his thumbs flicked at your pert nipple, toying with it like he usually toyed with your clit. “Fuck me dizzy, daddy,” His jaw clenched as you spoke, your tongue licking at the shell of his ear like you had dozens of times before. “I'll be so good for you, please.”

The bed creaked obnoxiously as he forced your legs back as far as they could go, pinning them out of his way so there was nothing holding him back from absolutely battering your cunt. You were certain that the wet smacking sound of his hips meeting your soaked center could be heard from just outside the cabin. Your body was suddenly hotter, the air thick with humidity, sex and oh so sweet Eunseok. It was moments like these where you thought you’d do absolutely anything for him, no matter how dark, if it meant he’d drill into you like this whenever you wanted. You’d consider signing your life away to be his own personal cocksleeve.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. Show Mark that you’re taken.”

With the way he was fucking into you, that wasn’t too far off. He shifted his weight to his knees so he could wrap his hands around your hips, dragging your body down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Your stomach coiled with hot orgasmic bliss as he angled his hips to rub your clit with each thrust, the pressure taking over your entire body in the form of mind-numbing pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Your body twisted in on itself as he pinched your nipples, applying just enough force to throttle you over the edge. “Fuck!” His lips met yours in a heated kiss that you were too fucked out to reciprocate, just moans and whimpers tumbling out as he licked into your mouth.

You were barely restored from your orgasm before he was bucking into you again. “Tell me, ___, tell me about the guys you slept with while you were waiting for me.”

“E-Eunseok!” It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t committed to one another, but telling him the details was going too far. You certainly didn’t want to hear about all of the girls he was railing at Stanford. “Too embarrassing…”

He stilled your hips flush against his pelvis, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “Tell me, or I’ll stop altogether.”

Catching your breath, gasping for air you didn’t even really know you were deprived of, you opened your eyes to face his demand, “It was only two, I swear.”

Eunseok grunted, resuming his thrusts with exaggerated force. “Were they keeping you satisfied?” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, not wanting to think about the meaningless hookups that you only went through with because you were horny. “Or were they greedy? Huh? Were they taking care of my baby the way I do?”

“Mnh, no! The first guy was terrible, nothing compared to you.”

He slowed his thrusts, gripping onto your thighs a bit harder. “And the second guy?” You didn’t respond as quickly as you had the first time. In fact, you didn’t speak up at all. Eunseok was starting to think you didn’t hear him.

“Ma— The second guy was… he took care of me, daddy.”

Eunseok wasn’t expecting you to say that at all. He was expecting you to wax on about how nobody was better than him, but this threw a wrench in his plans. “Turn around, get on all fours.” His cock slipped out of you unceremoniously, his jaw clenching as you scrambled to turn over.

“I’m sorry, Seok, it didn’t mean anything.” 

He folded you in on yourself, leaving your ass perched in the air for Eunseok to play with as he saw fit. His cock lodged back in your cunt in one motion, filling you to the brim like he’d never pulled out. Your cries were muffled by the pillow your face was pressed up against, arms limp above the mattress as Eunseok fucked you like a rag doll. All of your neurons were short circuiting at the same time, leaving you a braindead slut for your camp boyfriend’s fat cock. Drool soaked the pillowcase beneath you, and it only made Eunseok laugh at your tremors of pleasure. 

“Remember what I taught you last summer?” His deft fingers fluttered just over your puckered hole, laughing as he watched you jerk at the featherlight touch. “Yeah?”

A rivulet of his saliva dripped onto your hole, his index finger stretching through the ring of muscle. The fit was tight and you arched your back at the intrusion, a shaky moan rolling off your tongue. “E-Eunseok…”

He was still thrusting into your cunt shallowly, rocking forward just enough to prolong the pleasure. “Don’t tell me,” His long fingers slapped your opening harshly, sending down another glob of spit. “Was all our training for nothing? Am I the only one who’s fucked you here?” One more dribble for your entrance before he added another finger, pressing them against your walls that were still wrapped around his cock. “Hm? Am I the one and only, baby?”

You whimpered at the memory, his fat cock splitting you open in a way you’d always swore you’d never do. But he was just so charming and intoxicating, his charisma your fatal weakness— you’d never dream of saying no to Song Eunseok. 

“Y-yes. You’re the only one.”

He loved that answer. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were fucking people the other three seasons out of the year. But there was a very large part of him that took pride in knowing there was something reserved just for the two of you, something no one else got to experience with you. It made him slip his cock even further inside of you, testing out a third finger as you bit into the pillow beneath you. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Gliding his cock out of your heat and tapping the tip against your hole, gaped open by his fingers that were still pressed inside. “You ready for me?”

You nodded slowly, nervous to take him after such a long time without it. “Slowly, Eunseok. I’m scared.”

Eunseok ducked his head so his lips were pressed right against your ear, “Baby, you know I’m always gentle with this one.” His free hand wrapped around your ponytail, pulling you towards him to arch your back at just the right angle. You barely registered the switch from his fingers to the head of his cock, his touch so delicate and the added gloss from your juices making it so seamless. “God, baby, you’re so hot.” His hand snaked around to your breasts to fondle them as a distraction to his length sliding deeper inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” so that’s what you had been missing this past year, “oh, Seok, I’m so full.”

He’s never been shy around you, groaning out curses and moaning your name as he so pleases. His voice sends vibrations through your head, and all you can focus on is trying to breathe right. You were so overwhelmed with the feeling of Eunseok inside of you, you felt like you were pulsating. His hand in your hair tugged at you so you’d turn towards him, whining into your mouth before locking you in a sweet kiss that tastes like peach rings. “I’ve thought about this… everyday for the last nine months.”

That was true, or at least you wholeheartedly believed it. Very rarely, once every few months or so, Eunseok would text you into the wee hours of the morning, checking to see if you were awake. And every single time, you were. It was like you could sense that he was going to text you, your body wide awake until the very moment the text came through. It always ends with the two of you on the phone, talking each other through a filthy orgasm or two. You’d actually catch up once you finished, mesmerized by the facets of his life that you’d never seen before. And then you wouldn’t hear from him for another two or three months.

And when the wait was over, you were back in his arms, breathing in the sweat canvasing his body as he fucked you like his own personal toy. You were so pliable, so obedient, so in sync with his every desire; you were the high he chased September through May.

“Put your fingers in your pussy.” A quick slap to your ass before grabbing onto it, “you were dying for it earlier, go ‘head.”

You didn’t even have to move your fingers once they were inside of you, Eunseok’s thrusts providing enough friction to stimulate your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.”

Pumping two fingers inside of yourself, Eunseok added two of his own as he rubbed at your clit ruthlessly, thrusting into your ass still just as deep as before. The wave crept up on you in an unforgiving crescendo that raptured your soul from your body. Your body convulsed uncontrollably, hips thrashing against Eunseok as you squirted all over the sheets. The fingers crooked inside of you were a mess, covered in both your juices and cream from fucking yourself on them. You could just barely hear Eunseok hissing at how tightly your ass was squeezing him.

Eunseok was able to hold off on his own climax, thrusting shallowly into you until your tremors subside. “Felt good?” He took the risk of ruining his camp shirt by wiping his cock down with it, leaving your holes filthy and empty as he took an intermission for cleanup. “I thought about you every night at school, wishing my hand was you. Imagining pumping your sweet little pussy to the brim with my cum. Or painting your pretty face with it. Sometimes both,” His fingers curled inside of you and your eyes flittered shut. “Would think about you in my dreams, too, fuck. Had to jerk off before class because you’d get me so worked up.”

When Eunseok got like this— messy, generous, overruled by lust— there was no stopping him. You knew that you were effectively out of commission for the rest of the day.

The marathon fuck-fest went on for all three days you had before camp started, sneaking away to grab food at the very end of meal times, doing everything in your power to avoid everyone else. The days spoiled you, the reality of the situation escaping you until you were forcefully faced with it. The beginning of camp meant having no time designated for private moments tucked away with Eunseok. It was all about finding time throughout the day for stolen kisses, coordinating bathroom breaks so he could finger you hastily, slinking out on late night smoke sessions with Haechan and Minjeong to ride Eunseok until you passed out. The only guaranteed time you had with Eunseok was after campground curfew if you weren’t on cabin watch.

The nightly routine was the same— at eleven o’clock on the dot, you were knocking on his cabin door. The lights were already off but Eunseok would take the time to make sure every single light including the porch one was out. That’s when he’d open the door, just enough to peek out and ensure no one was watching before pulling you inside. It was the same for when you left, and all the hoops you had to jump through was just part of the fun. Having a three step plan before even being able to kiss him was worth it when he put his hands on your body, lips on your skin, knees knocking yours. He was yours only in private moments, but yours nonetheless.

Eunseok kissed you like you were the antidote to his incurable desire, and that wasn’t something you were willing to give up (even if you couldn’t tell anyone). But this summer was all about risks, evidently, as the two of you were quick to jump each other’s bones all across the campgrounds. Something about the looming threat of never being back at Watauga again made the two of you much more willing to test your luck.

THE BOATHOUSE

Your panties in your mouth was the only way you were able to muffle all the noises you were making, your ass sore from the way Eunseok was fucking into you. There wasn’t a sturdy enough surface for you to grab out for so you settled for pressing your hands against the wall, eyes trained on the rest of the counselors outside. The window was tinted, and small enough that they wouldn’t be able to see anything, but you couldn’t help but wonder; did they know? Know the reason you and Eunseok stepped away at the same time? 

“Look at them. So clueless. Minjeong has no idea you’re getting your little pussy pounded right now.” His head rested in the crook of your neck, careful not to leave any hickies with his kisses.

“Oh, please, Seok, let me cum.”

The vibrations from his laughter permeated through your skin, “you wanna cum? Play with your clit for me. Rub it like I would.” Your eyes rolled back so far you were sure you’d go cross eyed, scorching hot bliss consuming your body as your orgasm swallowed you whole. The fear of being caught was the greatest aphrodisiac Eunseok had ever served you, the feeling reaching down to the tips of your toes as you curled them in rapture. “I know, baby, I know.” Quick fingers swirling around your clit as you spasmed on his cock, his own legs buckling in weakness. His arms wrapped around your torso, keeping you steady as cum spilled right into your cervix. 

He pulled out before he went soft, cum hitting the floor with a quiet splat. You turned at the sound, mouth ajar as he looked back at you with eyes wide as saucers. “Eunseok!”

THE DINING HALL

It wasn’t on purpose, but you definitely didn’t stop him from peppering kisses along your neck and jaw as you filled the juice dispenser with ice. You wouldn’t bother getting fully undressed, lulling articles of clothing to the side amidst the grinding and heavy petting before he entered you smoothly. “So good for me, letting me fuck you out here.” His hands clasped atop yours as you gripped the dining hall counter, the prettiest gasp torn from your throat as he bottomed out. 

Eunseok’s chin rested in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, warm breathing fanning the side of your face as your eyes screwed shut from the pleasure. His arms move to wrap around your neck as you let your head fall back onto the table, mewls slipping past your lips as he rammed against your g-stop. “Feels good baby? Want more?”

You frantically nod because you could never say no to more from him, back arching as his hands fondle every erogenous zone he could reach; nipples, chest, lower tummy, inner thighs. That paired with his deep thrusts sends you over the edge briskly, your cup of bug juice spilling over from the way you were thrashing in his hold. Your orgasm triggers his own, his teeth sinking into you as he fills you up to the brim. 

THE TENNIS COURT

Twice a session, Camp Watauga organized Field Trip Day. No counselors ever want to go on the first trip, but you and Eunseok were smart— make the sacrifice for the first trip so that you both could hang back together when all the other counselors had to go on the second trip. It was the smartest thing you’d done in all your years at Watauga. The campgrounds were like a deserted island, just you, Eunseok, a few staffers, and a first year counselor whose name you kept forgetting.

“Would you let me fuck you with a racket?”

You didn’t need too much time to think about it. “Mm, a fresh one, yeah. If you really wanted to.”

Eunseok dug his hand through the duffel bag he brought out with him, “Like the brand new one I washed this morning just in case you said yes?” He wasn’t kidding. “I wrapped it in a clean towel to be extra safe.”

“Okay, I was under the impression the question was hypothetical.”

His head tilted to the side as he shrugged, a little embarrassed to be shot down so quickly. “It still can be. But I really want to.”

“How thick is that thing, anyway?”

A wicked smile spread across his lips— he knew he had you. “It’s thinner than my dick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

And he was right, your skirt pulled up and your panties to the side testing your entrance with the edge of the racket. Your pussy opened up for him slowly, taking every centimeter of the racket that he sank into you as he tested the waters. Light, precise thrusts to get your body used to the feeling. “Feels…” 

“Good? Do you want me to keep going, or do you wanna stop?” Eunseok halted his movements as he waited for you to respond, smiling like he’d won the lottery when you urged him to continue. “Be as loud as you want, baby, no one can hear us out here.”

Out on the tennis court, the very one you used to play on when you were a camper, you let your guard down. You leaned back into Eunseok’s chest, head resting on his shoulder as he worked you open with the racket. The ripples of pleasure already had you squirming in his hold, having to force yourself to calm down— he was just getting started. With Eunseok wrapped around you taking care of your sodden folds, you crept your hands beneath your shirt to fondle your breasts. The attention made your hips buck into the racket, a sharp cry soaring from your throat. “Fuck, the felt good. Aim it higher.” He did as he was told, in awe of your transformation from hesitant to in charge. The grooves on the handle added extra sensation, that soft spongy spot flourishing under all of the attention the racket was giving it. Your orgasm was rushing in on you hard and fast, and you couldn’t stop yourself from fucking the racket back. “Faster, fuck, right there! ‘M so close.”

Eunseok altered his position before granting you your demand, fisting the racket handle with one hand and caressing your clit with the other. You were unreservedly exposed to the woods before you, but the way you were spreading your legs suggested that you didn’t care. Another gush of wetness leaked out of you at the thought of a random hiker seeing you splayed open like this, drinking in your pussy like a pervert. You were gluttonous, your appetite for euphoria unappeasable; it was complete benediction that you’d found Eunseok to not fulfill your desires, but tempt you with entirely new ones.

“Give it to me, angel,” A string of spit dripped from his lips onto your cunt, “Wanna see you cum all over this racket like the hungry little slut you are.”

It was the kind of orgasm where you thought you might die, the ecstasy too much for your body to handle. Bathed in direct sunlight, heart racing like a marathoner, brain utterly devoid of any thoughts other than Eunseok, Eunseok, Eunseok! 

The racket slipped out of you naturally as Eunseok loosened his grip and your seizing pussy pushed it out. Eunseok was hard as a rock as he watched you come to, your sweaty palms reaching out for him. “Just so you know,” your voice was hoarse from all the screaming, “I would’ve never let those other guys put a racket in me.”

THE JACUZZI

The perfect goodbye, in Eunseok’s words, was a tryst in the coveted counselor jacuzzi that required special permission from Director Irwin. “We won’t have to ask if we go while he’s asleep.” And just like everything he’d ever talked you into, you couldn’t say no to Song Eunseok.

Eunseok was already waiting for you at the jacuzzi when you arrived, arms spread out against the rim as the beginning flecks of sunrise teased the horizon.

It felt different than all the other times you guys had been together, except one— your first time with him. Neither of you were virgins when it happened, but he was so tender with his every touch. Gentle with the way he spoke to you, soft in the way he praised you. Sleeping together sprang from carnal desire, but his manifested delicately. All of those feelings came flooding back as he talked you through this time, lips sucking on your earlobe as you twirled your hips with his. Hands pressed to your back, tongue crying out about how beautiful you were. It gave you déjà vu. 

And there, with your cheeks flushed and your hair pulled away from your face. With sweat dotting your hairline and your lips three shades darker. It had never been clearer to him. “I love you,” The sound of the jets in the water almost muffled him. “And I don’t want you to say anything just yet, alright? I really want you to think about it because I really think you might be the love of my life, and I don’t wanna rush through that. Just… think about it.”

Your head bobbed in understanding, not knowing how to just continue after a confession like that.

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Before someone catches us.”

It was the only time Eunseok had ever left you high and dry, and you were too frazzled to finish yourself off. You walked back to your cabin in a trance, combing over every moment you’d spent with him under a microscope. He loves you. Not just into you or in love with having sex with you. He loves you.

There wasn’t much for you to think about, but you’d already decided to humor him. You’d take the rest of the day leading up to the going away party to ‘ponder’. 

The annual (unofficial) going away party for the counselors always took place in the woods, keeping the debauchery far away from the campers who liked to test their luck with curfew since it was the end of the summer. It was a childish celebration of all the time spent at Camp Watauga, but you wanted to entertain it, anyway. It was your last summer, after all.

Eunseok didn’t want to play Never Have I Ever, knowing that it was gonna leave him hungover the next morning since everyone liked to play dirty. He resigned to finishing his drink leaned up against a tree, soaking in the picture of all of you together for the last time. Sure, he was staying on the East Coast, but it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d be able to keep in touch with everyone. Although, the only person he really cared to stay in touch with was you.

“Okay, never have I ever hooked up with someone in the circle.” Giselle giggled at her own addition, knowing for a fact that several of her friends would have to drink. Minjeong and Jimin rolled their eyes as they took a sip, their relationship being a dead give away that they’d hooked up before. But Eunseok was far more concerned with the sip that you took than anyone else.

He wanted to say something, but he knew it would give him away immediately. So he was relieved when Jimin spoke up for him. “___! Someone in this circle?”

You cleared your throat, obviously avoiding Eunseok’s gaze as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Um, yeah. Just a couple times, nothing crazy.”

“A couple times? Who?”

It was painful as you polished off the rest of your drink, fidgeting with the fibers of the rug you were sitting on. “Mark.”

Oh. Oh. The same Mark you’d told Eunseok you wanted nothing to do with, that Mark? Mark Lee who’d had a thing for you since you were a shy camper, nervous about spending the night away from your friends and family? Eunseok could kill him. “When was this? Was it right under our noses?”

“Eunseok—” You knew you shouldn’t have said anything, but lying would’ve been just as bad. Mark could’ve chimed in at any moment, and he wouldn’t have been exaggerating. Sure, the two of you knew it was just sex, but you never told him to keep it a secret. You weren’t ashamed of your sexual history with him, but you were afraid of how it would affect Eunseok. 

“No, please, tell the class. I think we’re all just curious.”

You couldn’t feel the night breeze anymore, white hot humiliation burning you from the inside out. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was when Mark moved back to Connecticut for a few months for work. His apartment was like ten minutes from campus and he asked if I wanted to meet for a drink.”

“We never did get that drink, now that I think about it,” Mark chuckled to himself, locking eyes with Eunseok, “Never made it out of my apartment that night.”

The difference between humans and animals is quite simple; logical reasoning. Humans can think about certain things and are motivated by their instincts, intellect and logic. Animals are incapable of reasoning and are simply motivated by their instincts alone. Eunseok, by definition, was an animal. His fist cut through the air and into Mark’s jaw without a second thought. 

You were almost certain you heard a crack upon impact, but Mark barely flinched. Like he was expecting it. He was ready to fight back with his hands curled into fists, fractured jaw bone an afterthought. Everyone else was shuffling to get away, screaming at the two of them to knock it off. The only person to jump in the middle was Haechan, arms flexing every muscle possible to keep Eunseok and Mark off of each other.

“Guys, stop! Why are you fighting?” Their fight was lost on everyone but you, the guilt you’d shoved down bubbling to the surface as you watched them claw at each other. 

Haechan was able to get a handle on Mark, leaving Eunseok open for you to shake some sense into. He was so hurt as he finally looked at you, shoulders slumping as his chest heaved. “Eunseok, stop it, why are you getting so worked up about this?”

Mark was out for blood, cradling his jaw as he said what everyone was thinking. “Because everyone knows he wants you but he can’t admit it.”

“I have her! She is mine! I belong to her!” The hush that fell over the room was eerie, not a single peep out of anyone as you watched Eunseok with bated breath. “You guys might have fucked a few times, but she’s mine. Has been since year seven. Just because we set each other free from fall to spring doesn’t mean I’m not hers.”

So much for keeping it a secret. Everyone gawked at you, the shock of you and Eunseok actually being a thing greater than the shock of Eunseok punching the shit out of Mark. Like clockwork, everyone gathered their things and fled the area, whispering about how they’d never seen that side of Eunseok before.

You were still startled. “What was that?”

“Oh, don’t start. You’ve been nothing but distant this whole summer, you let me hang around Mark looking like an idiot, you made me feel fucking stupid!”

“Distant? Eunseok, we’ve spent everyday together. You’ve been my entire summer. And of course I didn’t tell you about Mark, there’s nothing to tell! We only hooked up like three times, and it was mainly because I was missing you,” He moved to interject but you cut him off with a wave of your hands, “Do you know how selfish it is for you to tell me you love me, tell me not to respond, and then accuse me of keeping you at arm's length all in one day? To paint me out to be this heartless tramp when I’ve only ever loved you?”

He kicked at the twigs by his feet, hair on the back of his neck standing up at those last two words. “You love me?”

“Does… does this really sound like the time for that? I’m in the middle of tell you that I’m pissed at you.”

That cocky smirk was back on his face, his front teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. “Yeah, but you love me.” He took his bruised hand to grab your chin, forcing your focus on him. “Say it.”

“Eunseok…” He hummed at the sound of his name in your mouth, angry demeanor nowhere to be found. “You big, dumb idiot, I love you.”

He kissed you like he was afraid he might hurt you, cradling your head delicately as you let yourself simmer in the feeling of love. The feeling of your fingers in his hair, his heart beating at the speed of light against your chest. It was a feeling you’d pushed down year after year, too afraid to confront the possibility of losing him. And now, wrapped in his arms post love confession, you weren't afraid of anything.

So, yeah. Maybe you felt a little corny walking into the dining hall the next morning with Eunseok’s arm thrown over your shoulder. But you’d do way cornier things for Song Eunseok.

[freedomfireflies]

A-Mazing*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you and Harry find yourselves lost in a corn maze together.

Word Count: 7.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionism, size kink, Daddy kink, enemies dynamic, Harry being a little bitch 🫶

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Harry smirks as he turns to you, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, I’m serious, I’m not getting stuck with you,” you argue, glancing toward the rest of the group that’s already heading inside the corn maze. “Seriously, please. Anybody else. I will take literally anybody else.”

“Well, you don’t get anybody else,” Harry snorts, much too smug for your liking. “You were late.”

“Yeah, and I was late because I was fixing your mistake,” you remind him. “It took me three hours to recode that sequence. And I’m still not finished—"

“Right, because it wasn’t a fucking mistake, Princess. The way I designed it was going to help it run three times more efficiently than the way Prescott suggested. And you just fucking undid it—"

“You weren’t asked to make it more efficient. You were told to do it the way the client wanted—”

“Well, the way the client wanted it was slow and stupid—”

“And you would be the authority on slow and stupid.”

Harry’s eyes narrow while his lips press into a thin line, looking quite incensed. “Very mature. Are we going in or what?”

“Fine,” you agree through a heavy exhale, shoving past him to head toward the entrance.

You have no idea why you even agreed to come in the first place. Sure, the idea of getting a few coworkers together for some fall fun was sweet, but truth be told, you don’t really care about any of these people outside of the office. You don’t care to see them, or get to know them, or hang out with them.

And the one person you do know happens to also be the one person you can’t stand.

Corn mazes are fun. Even pairing up to do them together is kind of exciting.

But with him? You’d rather get lost.

“All right, here’s your map,” the kind, older woman at the table says, handing you a piece of paper. “Answer the questions at each fork and follow the path according to your answer.”

You nod your understanding and offer a quick thank you before slipping past the tent and toward the beginning of the maze. The setting sun casts shadows across the field as you both make your way through the stocks.

You feel a sense of adventure as you make your way to the first checkpoint. Taking in the lingering scent of kettle corn somewhere off in the distance, and the excited chatter of the other people inside the maze. It’s exhilarating, and you feel a sense of purpose as you stride forward. Spurred on by a need to win – to do better than him.

And you hear Harry subtly huff from somewhere behind you, clearly annoyed with the way you’ve left him behind. “Real fucking mature,” he scoffs, and you can practically hear his eyes roll. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tinkerbell. You know, work together.”

“Well, I don’t want to be on a team with you,” you retort. “And we’ve never worked well together. As is evident by your complete lack of common sense and understanding of the system we’re trying to design.”

“Oh, this shit again—"

“Yes, this shit again. You’re costing us time and money by trying to prove you’re so much better than everyone else—”

“Well, I can’t exactly help it if I am, now, can I?”

You feel your expression fall as you spin on your heel to face him. “You’re fucking annoying, is what you are. It’s not my job to clean up after you. Okay, I’m not your mother, I’m not your babysitter. I am your equal. And it’s about fucking time you start treating me like it.”

Even in the dark, murky space, you can see a certain glimmer in his eye. One that challenges the frown on his face.

He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for a response. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”

With that, he shoves past you and forges ahead into the maze. Leaving you to stare at his back with a glower.

You’re both silent as you approach the first fork, offering nothing more than looks of indignation and huffs of apathy as you raise your map and scan the question. 

“What does WWW stand for in a website browser?” you read aloud before snorting. “World Wide Web. C.”

An easy question. You both know the answer, and there's no way he can argue with you.

So, instead, he says nothing. Merely glancing over the paper almost skeptically before heading toward the third row.

Pocketing the trivia questions, you chase after him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? The silent treatment?”

Harry’s back stays to you as he slips between the stocks. “I’m not giving you the fucking silent treatment; I’m not twelve.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”

“Because you’re a fucking brat.”

The vicious way he sneers the word sends a certain reaction down your spine, but you brush it away just as quickly as it appeared. “I thought I was your teammate.”

“You said it yourself, we’re not a team,” he retorts. “You’re not my babysitter, and you’re not my mother. Unless what you were really trying to say is that you want me to call you Mommy.”

You feel yourself hesitate, confused, and slightly startled by the suggestion. “Ew. Why would I want that?”

You see his shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve always been a kinky little thing. Maybe it gets you off.”

“Oh, fuck you, I don’t have a mommy kink. Especially not with you.”

“Fine, a daddy kink then. Don’t think I forgot how eager you were to say it last time—”

“That was for you,” you hiss, once again glaring at his hooded back. “Okay, I was trying to see if you liked it, and you did—”

“Of course I did. It’s hot.”

“Sure, yeah. But I’m the kinky one?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you want me to call you mommy…all you have to do is ask.”

You come to the second fork, forcing the conversation to a halt as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine.”

You unfold the map and search for the next question. “What is cynophobia?”

“Easy. Fear of cats.”

“That’s ailurophobia, you dipshit. Cynophobia is a fear of dogs.”

“Dipshit. Classy. No, that’s real nice, Tink. Very romantic.”

“Well, it’s true. Look it up.”

“Can’t,” he says calmly. Confidently. “There’s no service in here.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?”

“Cause I’ve done this before. Many times.”

Your eyes narrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“…why?”

There’s a brief pause before he says, “She used to love it here.”

Your heart instantly drops into your toes, grimace untwisting as you glance toward the ground. “Oh.”

Another shrug. “Point is, I can’t look it up. So…pick whichever. I don’t care.”

Swallowing thickly, you gesture toward the second exit. “B. The answer is dogs. My brother used to have it when he was younger.”

And for the first time all evening, it’s Harry’s turn to look surprised as he nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you learn that from my file?” you tease, and you notice his lips twitch up into a smirk.

“Not exactly.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t really talk about him. He doesn’t live here, he lives back home. After my dad left, he stuck around to take care of our mom.”

You see a flash of sympathy streak across his expression, but you’re brushing him off before he can comment.

“Anyway, it’s B,” you repeat, walking toward the middle row. “If you don’t believe me, then go your own way.”

For a moment, Harry hesitates, almost as though considering it. Then, he sighs, and begrudgingly follows your lead.

This time around, you’re both quiet. Listening to the sounds of everyone else further on in the maze laughing, or talking, or squealing with excitement.

A few scattered lamps help guide you through the dark labyrinth. You can see the wind move through the corn stocks. The way they rustle as they sway with the breeze, adding an element of eeriness to the already spooky scene.

Furthermore, the night air is beginning to grow cold. The fall chill nipping at your skin and reminding you once more that it’s no longer summer as you shiver and pull your jacket further around your body. 

“Should have brought a real coat,” Harry comments, almost haughtily, and it makes your eyes roll. “It’s October, Princess. Can’t wear booty shorts and flip flops anymore.”

Despite the fact that you’re wearing neither of those, you still feel the need to scoff, “Well, of course it’s not cold to you. You’re already dead inside.”

“Ooo, ouch. You got me. Sick burn, Tink. Real sick.”

His flippant response makes your skin crawl. “You are so fucking annoying, do you know that?”

“And you’re a fucking brat, do you know that?”

“I’m not a brat, I’m just right.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Yeah, it is whatever I say, actually. I’m the one with the fucking map.”

To prove your point, you wave the paper in the air before stopping beside the next checkpoint.

“What are the names of the four women on the show, The Golden Girls?” you read, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Uh…I know Rose is one of them.”

“And Betty White,” Harry adds.

“No, her character. Not her,” you huff. “And I’m pretty sure Betty played Rose, so that’s only one.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” he scoffs before glancing over the multiple-choice answers. “Then it’s probably A or C. Those are the only ones with Rose in them.”

“Well, we have to pick one. Okay, we can’t do both—”

“Yes, I fucking know that, Tinkerbell. I’m just narrowing it down—”

“Well, maybe be less condescending about it.”

“Fine,” he nearly snaps, angrily stabbing at the map with his finger. “A. Dorothy, Rose, Blanch, and Samantha.”

“No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think they had a Samantha. It was…it was something else. Either Sophia or Sarah.”

“Well, you have to pick one. You can’t have both,” he repeats mockingly, and you begin to glare. “Besides, statistically, it’s more likely they switch up the letters with each guess. We’ve already done B and C. Next should be A.”

“Really? That’s your reasoning?”

“That’s my reasoning. Take it or leave it.”

And you don’t like it. You don’t feel convinced by it. But you decide – just this once – to put your faith in his incessant need to be right. To trust him and his judgment.

You nod once. A curt gesture of good will as he sighs gratefully and takes off toward the first row. 

An eerie feeling follows you as you trail behind. Perhaps an ominous warning to turn around. That something is about to go wrong.

At first, you shake it away. Equating it with your distaste for the man before you.

But soon…you see the real reason why.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan when you’re both forced to a stop by a dead end. “See? What did I tell you?”

“Fuck off, you didn’t tell me shit, Princess. It’s a dead end, not death,” he huffs. “We’ll turn around and try again.”

“Can we? We passed like two other rows and now I can’t remember which way we came.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

“Oh, bite me, Harold.”

“Just tell me where.”

You feel your heart race beneath your chest. Spurred on by adrenaline, slight fear, and the brisk cold air. “Can you please stop being so infuriating?”

“Can you please stop being such a bitch?” he replies cooly before his eyes flick down toward your shivering frame. “You’re shaking.”

“Yes, I know,” you grit through clenched, chattering teeth. “It’s cold. And don’t you dare make another joke about flip flops. I don’t have the energy to slap you.”

That arrogant smirk returns. “Cute. Told you, you should have brought a coat.”

“Well, I didn’t,” you hiss. “So can we please just get the fuck out of here before I freeze to death?”

Harry’s eyes roll, but you notice his grin grow as he sighs and lifts a hand toward the collar of his hoodie.

In one fluid motion, he’s slipping the sweatshirt up his torso and over his head to hand to you. Dangling the dark fabric between your bodies as you stare at it incredulously.

“Take it,” he grumbles, waving the material in your direction. “And don’t fucking say I’m never nice to you.”

Stunned, you blink quickly. “What…are you doing?”

“Just put it on,” he huffs, gesturing toward you again. “Cause, if you die out here, I’m not dragging your body back.”

Your eyelids narrow into small slits while you cautiously reach for the hoodie. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Once you’ve taken it, he uses his knuckle to shove his glasses back into position. “Like you said, I can’t get cold. I’m dead inside.”

You smile at this before pulling the cozy jacket over your head. It smells…good. It smells like him. Radiating heat and the faint scent of his cologne. 

Truth be told, it feels like a warm hug. Something you can’t imagine Harry ever giving you on his own. And a part of you feels…relieved. Relaxed and almost…enamored. Perhaps even grateful.

“Thanks,” you murmur, snuggling against the fabric before slipping your hands into the pocket. “You didn’t…have to. I know being nice isn’t your thing.”

He snorts, turning now toward the tall lookout platform just beside the dead end. “Whatever. Maybe we should go up and see if we can see the exit.”

“Okay.”

With that, he turns toward the stairs and begins the trek up. You rush after him, trying hard to see the steps without much light, and thankfully making it to the top in one piece as you begin to look around. 

It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, the design lit up by the soft glow of the moon. An almost romantic touch, although you shake the thought away. You can see a few groups spread out throughout the rest of the maze, but most of them are already making their way out. Having figured out the riddles much quicker than the two have seemed to.

You pout. “Nuts.”

“Yeah,” he agrees in a low grumble. “Okay, we’ll…we’ll turn around. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was C. We can try that next.”

It’s strange to hear him admit you could have been correct, and you can’t help but smirk as you nod. “Okay.”

You follow Harry down the other side, focusing your attention on your footing as you take each step one at a time.

But once you’re toward the bottom, your tennis shoe suddenly catches on a rogue nail, and you begin to stumble. Body falling forward before you can even reach for the railing.

Instantly, Harry – who’s already made it back to the ground – reaches out for your arms, slipping his hands beneath your elbows to help steady you and catch you just in the nick of time. Sparing you from a rather embarrassing fall.

You gasp as you’re flung forward, allowing yourself to settle in his embrace for support while you work on your balance and place your feet back where they need to be.

And once you’re sure you’re sturdy, you take a deep breath, and straighten up.

“Shit,” you whisper, lashes fluttering from the rush of adrenaline, and the feel of his touch. “I hate these shoes.”

You expect a snarky quip, but instead, you see his expression twist from behind his glasses as he glances over your face. Hands still glued to your arms. “Are you all right?”

A bit stunned by the soft and rather gentle tone of voice, you nod once. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…sorry. I should have been looking.”

He seems confused by your apology but chooses to ignore it, instead watching you closely as if monitoring your reaction. “If you wanted me to hold you, Tinkerbell, you could have just said so.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, cheeks growing warm as you push yourself out of his arms. “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Or fuck me?”

“Ha. Very funny.”

“Maybe I’m not being funny,” he argues. “Maybe I mean it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

You snort. “Harry, come on. This would be the last place to fuck.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why. What’s wrong with it? It’s dark. Secluded. There’s the element of getting caught, which I know you like.”

“Harry,” you repeat, almost doubtfully. “We…there’s no place to even do it. It’s way too exposed, and cold, and dangerous. We’d be better off just fucking in my car.”

“If we can even find our way back to your car,” he retorts teasingly. “Besides, I thought you liked danger.”

You gaze at him with suspicion, feeling that odd racing return to your chest. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t at first, but…it’s not a bad idea.”

“Please. You can’t be that horny that you have to fuck me every time we see each other.”

“Okay, well, I’m not and I don’t,” he scoffs. “It’s just…different.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

Another shrug, but this time, he’s stepping closer. Those soft, green eyes dancing down your body as if drinking you in. Indulging in the sight of you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, a bit quieter. Thicker. “There’s just…something about you, in my clothes. It’s…it’s good. You look good.”

The look in his eye is primal. Breeding a new sense of desire deep within the pit of your stomach. You shift under his lustful gaze, fingers curling into your fist from inside the pocket.

“Thanks, I guess,” you manage to say, noticing the way he continues to move closer. “It is comfy.”

“Good,” he mumbles, still studying your stance before dragging his attention back up to your face. “And you’re warm?”

“Getting there.”

A short nod. “You know…there are other ways of heating you up.”

The sneaky remarks are back, and even though you can feel your legs squeezing together from the suggestive tone of voice, you grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He finally reaches you, fingers outstretching for the front of his hoodie. Moving up your chest almost innocently before slipping around the back of your neck. “Want me to keep you warm, Tink?”

And you want to tease him a little longer, make him wait. Suffer.

But he’s too good. He’s always been too good at catching you off guard and luring you into submission. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you, the way he pulls you closer with the palm of his hand. You can practically taste him. Can smell him everywhere. Feel him in places he’s not even touching you.

And you need it. You need him, you want him. Right now, more than anything.

“Yes,” you exhale, almost shakily. “Yes, please—”

He surges forward, lips connecting with yours almost violently. Stealing the rest of your plea before you can make it.

You can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but whimper as he sucks on your tongue and presses his fingers harder against your head. Trapping you against his mouth until you feel dizzy. 

And he’s so warm. A stark contrast to the brisk, autumn air. And he’s soft in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Inviting. As though he’s been waiting his whole life to lay his mouth to yours.

“Har—” you gasp when he pulls back to nip at your bottom lip. “Har, please—”

You sound deranged. Wounded, almost, and so goddamn pitiful. You’re tugging on his shirt, trying to yank him impossibly closer. Tilting to the left for a deeper angle and raising up onto your toes in order to taste him fully.

“Easy,” he whispers, and it’s so very strained. Like he’s using what little strength he still has to speak to you. “Easy, Princess. S’okay, I’ve got you.”

It’s possessive the way he talks to you. Commanding you to listen. Insisting that your pleasure is his. That your wellbeing is in his hands.

He’s not a caring man by nature. At least not to you. But in moments like this, his dominance takes control. Turning him into a desperate man eager to care for you. To protect you and keep you safe.

Perhaps it’s a more caveman mindset. The idea that he needs to look after you. That you’re his to keep and care for.

But right now…you adore it. Feel safe in the idea of submitting to him.

“Please,” you try again, breathless and desperate as you cling to his strong frame and beg him for something only he can give you. “Harry, please…hurts.”

There’s a teasing glimmer in his eye, brightened by the reflection of his glasses. “Yeah? Is it achy, Tink?”

You nod quickly, grabbing onto his other hand to slide it down your stomach. Right toward where you need him most.

And he lets himself be moved, watching with intrigue at the way his fingers are dragged toward your thighs. Smirking rather sadistically while pressing his palm against your pussy with fervor.

You whine at the subtle friction, already attempting to grind down against the heel of his hand as he meets your pace with soft strokes of his own. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, watching your hips before returning his attention to your face. “Feels good, baby, yeah? Like to use me, don’t you?”

Another quick nod, and you sigh contently when he presses his lips to your cheek. Placing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Har,” you try again, nuzzling closer. “Har, they’re…they’re gonna see. Can’t…can’t do it here—”

“Yes we can,” he replies calmly. And the soft, secure tone of voice instantly turns your insides to jelly. “Promise I won’t let them see, okay? Gonna keep you to myself.”

He removes his hand from your pussy to place it on your hip. Guiding you back until you feel your body connect with something hard. You glance around just long enough to find that it’s the wooden frame of the lookout. And he keeps you trapped there as he hides you both beneath the structure, tucking you away from any prying eyes that might pass.

“There,” he says, grinning to himself at the eager look on your face. “Now Daddy can see just how wet you really are, hm?”

You can tell he’s using the nickname sparingly. Tentative of your reaction as he waits to see how you might feel about it.

And truthfully, you hadn’t anticipated liking it as much as you do. Especially in this moment, when he’s giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like music to your ears, orgasmic just to listen to.

You swallow thickly and nudge your nose against his cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”

He tenses beneath your touch, cursing against the shell of your ear before he whispers, “Show me.”

He returns his hand to yours, allowing your fingers to interlock as you shakily guide him toward your jeans. 

After a bit of maneuvering, you get the zipper down, and help slip his hand inside your underwear. Straight down to your cunt as his fingers glide through your folds until he can find what he’s looking for. 

“Oh, Tink,” he coos almost sympathetically. Stroking your pussy as you move to grip his wrist excitedly. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wooden board for stability. “Hurts.”

“I bet,” he tsks, sliding his middle finger toward your hole. Circling it once before glancing over your expression. “Need something to fill you up, hm? Get you warm again?”

You hum your agreement, tugging his touch further into you as he chuckles and steps closer. “Please…”

“What, baby? What do you need?”

You whimper again and roll your hips against his fingers. Needing the friction of his thumb against your clit which he refuses to give you.

“What do you want, hm?” he mumbles, dipping down to ghost his lips across yours. “Just ask…and Daddy will give you anything you want.”

And in this moment, you know he means it.

“Want you…to fuck me,” you exhale, reaching now for the curls lying against the back of his neck. “Please, Har. Need you to fuck me. Make it better. Make it go away.”

“Is that right?” He slips a finger inside, and you feel your insides twist as you gasp and squirm against the pleasurable touch. “Need something bigger, yeah?”

“Yes…yeah. Please. Please, Daddy.”

He smiles again before slipping his hand from inside your jeans to help tug them down your legs. Yanking almost furiously until they’re settled near your ankles. Allowing him just enough room to slip between.

And once your cunt is on display for him, he stares at it with a certain mesmerized admiration. Allowing himself to enjoy you before he reaches for his own belt and tugs it free.

Once he’s managed to pull his cock out, he reaches again for your hips. Squeezing them once before turning you around.

His arm slips around your middle to keep you secure and you grin lazily as you rest yourself against his chest.

“Gonna hold you, just like this,” he whispers against your cheek, and you feel the tip of his cock trailing against the curve of your ass. “Keep you warm.”

The hand against your ribcage is gentle. Keeping you steady as he attempts to hold you close.

“Deep breath, Tink, okay?” he instructs next, nudging the crown against your dripping hole. Warning you of his next step. “Know it’s a lot, but you always take me so well, don’t you? Gonna take me again?”

You grab onto his arm, nails scraping down his skin as you whine, “Yes. Yes, I’ll take you. Just need it, Har, please—"

“Okay, all right,” he shushes, nudging his cheek against your temple. “Need you to relax, okay? Are you relaxed, baby?”

And you think you are. Mentally, anyway. You’ve never felt so comfortable in someone’s arms. Under their influence and control. Even despite the cold air nipping at your thighs and the outside threat of getting caught, you feel at ease. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as the sounds of people somewhere else in the maze float toward you. Reminding you of where you are. What could happen.

“Tink,” he warns, sliding his cock through your folds in wait. “I need you to relax for me, okay? I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“No?” you manage to retort, and you catch his smile out of your peripheral. “Thought you liked to hurt me.”

 “I do,” he agrees, lips following the shell of your ear. “But not like this. Don’t wanna split you in half.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you breathe, reaching back for his neck. “Maybe I need it, Daddy.”

He chuckles almost darkly before pressing his mouth against your heated skin. “I’ll remember that.”

With that, he drops his hand down to your cunt, circling his fingers around your clit until he feels your body unwind. Allowing him just enough room to begin pushing his cock in.

“There you go,” he sighs, both of you groaning when you feel how easily he slips in. “So fucking good. Take me so well, don’t you? Always do, I know. Relax, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The burn is almost overwhelming. Demanding your focus and attention as you feel him stretch you open, forcing your walls to accommodate his size.

“Hey,” you hear him murmur, his palm coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb sweeping across your parted lips. “Are you breathing? Gotta breathe, Tink, come on. You know better—”

“I know,” you gasp, sucking in a greedy gasp for air before you suck in his finger. “I know, Daddy, m’sorry.”

He hums his approval before allowing himself to sit inside your warm mouth. “It’s okay, know it feels good, hm?”

“Mhm,” you agree around the large digit, allowing your tongue to settle him on your tastebuds. “More.”

“More?” he repeats, using his other hand to squeeze your hip. “Want more, greedy girl?”

“Please…”

“Please," he echoes thoughtfully. "Greedy Girl has manners, how precious.”

There’s a slight air of condescension and teasing to his response, and you feel yourself flutter around his length.

His grin grows. “You like that, baby?”

You manage one more weak nod as you press yourself against his body, squirming in his hold while his cock pushes in to the hilt.

“There,” he exhales, groaning some before falling still. Allowing your body to adjust to his size. “You okay?”

“Yes…yes, m’okay. Please move, please…please, Daddy—”

“Okay, all right,” he agrees coarsely, readjusting his stance before returning his arm to your stomach. Just beneath your chest. “Need you to be good, okay? Just listen to Daddy’s voice and do what I say.”

“I will. I will, I promise.”

“Good.” He begins to pull back. Dragging his cock through your quivering hole as you moan his name.

But such a loud noise isn’t quite what he had in mind, his other palm reaching up to smack across your mouth to silence you.

“Uh-uh,” he grunts, pausing the rhythm of his hips until he’s sure you’ll obey. “None of that. M’keeping you for myself, remember? Can’t let them know.”

You make an incoherent noise against his hand before writhing back against his cock. Needing more friction and movement that he refuses to give you.

“Unless that’s what you want, Greedy Girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Want them to see what I do to you. The way I make you fall apart…the way you beg for my cock. Even when you hate me.”

The idea sends a shiver down your spine as you groan his name and claw at his wrist.

“Is that what you want?” he murmurs between sharp thrusts. “S’it why you keep this pretty pussy so nice and tight for me? Cause you want them to know that it’s only me? That everything…everything…you do is because of me?”

Your eyes roll back, either from annoyance or pleasure. But it’s blissful, this feeling. This hard fuck, this angry connection. 

And yet, this infuriating man is oddly tender with you. Holding you close and helping you find your release, despite the way he goads you.

“Do you, Tink?” he asks again. “Do you want Lucas to see? Want them all to fucking see what you do to me?”

His nails are scraping down your ribcage, pulling you taut against his chest as he drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. Hips meeting your ass as he releases your mouth to hold onto you again, keeping you still.

“Tell me,” he says between deep breaths. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only cum for me—”

“Har—”

“My greedy little whore. My dirty fucking princess.” His tone is angry. Dissolving into something feral as he begins to pound into you with a harder force. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. “Not his. Mine. Always mine—”

“Yours,” you repeat between soft whines. “Yours, Harry, you know that—”

“Yeah?” He holds you tighter, allowing you no room to squirm as he nears his release. His pace becomes faster and sloppier the closer he gets. Allowing your warmth to soak him, draw him in. Using you as nothing more than a toy. A means to his end. “Then prove it.”

Even without much extra stimulation, you can feel yourself getting closer to the brink. Harry has always had this innate ability to get you there without much more than a few pumps of his cock. Perhaps it’s his size or his technique. The way he knows exactly where to thrust in order to hit the right spot and make you see stars. 

And maybe there’s a part of you – albeit small – that enjoys the idea of being good for him. Of coming on his cock (or his tongue or his fingers) just so he can watch. So he can feel what he does to you.

Maybe…you just want to be good for him. At least in moments like this. To know that you’ve earned his approval, his praise. That such a brilliant man has devoted his time and attention and body just to you. 

That you’re worthy of his time.

Worthy of him.

It’s almost degrading to think about and yet…it makes you clench. Pussy clamping down on his beautifully thick cock until he groans and nuzzles his nose against your neck.  

“Shit,” he hisses, rhythm stuttering as a shot of pleasure rolls through him. “Tink, if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” you answer instantaneously. “Want you to. Need you to, Daddy, please—”

“No,” he huffs, and he stills for only a moment as if attempting to refrain from falling apart. “No, need you to cum first. Daddy needs to feel you cum first, okay? Come on, baby, gotta give it to me—”

You mewl helplessly, drowning out the rest of his instruction. You’re close, and you know it won’t be much longer until it overwhelms you.

And there’s some part of you that feels…disappointed. Saddened by the idea of things going back to how they normally are. That he’ll take himself from you – take his cock from you – and return to the maddening man you can hardly tolerate.

Maybe subconsciously, you try to hold off. Keep your orgasm at bay so you can keep him just a little longer. So you can appreciate the caring man behind you and the way he’s so desperate to put you first.

He’s quite wonderful when he’s not being an ass.

“Tink,” he grunts, hand moving up toward your jaw. You feel his palm press to your throat, and you swallow thickly against his skin. “Baby, I want you to cum. Wanna feel you. What do you need? Hm? Wanna play with your pretty button for me?”

You nod pitifully and allow your own fingers to move down toward your cunt. It’s wet and achy and swollen so much it almost hurts to touch. But you release a strained breath, nevertheless, appreciating the sting of overstimulation as you writhe in his hold.

You can feel your body beginning to overheat the closer you get. Helping warm you up from the October chill still biting at your skin. And the sounds of your friends aren’t far behind. Perhaps looking for you, waiting for you both to exit the maze and continue on with your evening.

But you don’t give a damn about anybody else right now. Just him.

Something you never thought you’d say.

“Getting closer, yeah?” he hums against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “I know. Fucking shaking, baby, you’re okay. I got you. Just let it happen, let go.”

There’s something about his voice. About the feel of his glasses against your temple. About the way he makes you feel safe and secure. The way he effortlessly brings you to the edge and promises to catch you when you fall.

You know he hates you. And yet you also know that despite this loathing you share, you’re still his priority. That he’ll put your pleasure first, no matter what. That he wants to be good.

“Har,” you whimper through a high-pitched whine. “Shit, please—”

“You close? Gonna give it to me? Make Daddy happy?”

The reminder of the nickname makes you moan, a bit softer than before, but still rather lewd. And Harry tsks from behind you, once again sliding his palm up to your mouth.

“Dirty fucking princess,” he grits before he’s suddenly slamming himself into you. “Can’t ever do what she’s told, hm? Just loves to disobey me. Wants to get caught. Wants to be my greedy little girl—”

My greedy little girl.

That’s what does it for you. His possession, his mark, his claim. Reducing you to nothing more than this thing he uses for his pleasure. An object to be had.

In any other moment, you’d chastise him for it.

Right now, it’s everything you need to hear.

You cum on his cock without much choice. Pleasure unfurling like the petals of a flower in spring. For a moment, the overpowering sensation is all you can comprehend. Just ecstasy, a weightless euphoria. Lifting you up and dropping you back down.

He curses when he feels it, offering you quick murmurs of praise before he’s grabbing onto your hips with both hands and yanking you back. Using this leverage to drive his cock in in sharp thrusts before he’s following. Releasing himself into you with a groan as you gasp and grab onto one of the beams for support.

Thirty seconds pass of heavy breathing and lingering whimpers before you both fall quiet, chests heaving and legs still shaking.

He doesn’t pull out for at least a moment or two, merely holding onto your waist as he works to gather himself together.

“Shit,” he finally whispers, and you feel the subtle stroking of his thumb against your tender skin. Right over the bruises you’re sure to find tomorrow. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly, nodding once. “Really good, actually.”

“Yeah? Good. You needed it.”

You feel your lips pull back into a smile. “Oh, did I?”

“You really did.”

“Right. Even though you’re the one that fucks me every time you see me.”

You hear him scoff as he finally – and slowly – pulls out. Allowing your muscles to unwind as you release a deep breath. “I’m doing you a favor,” is his reply. And it’s laced with a condescension and haughtiness that you know all too well.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” He tucks himself back into his briefs before crouching down to reach for your jeans. Pulling them back up your legs with a strange amount of care, despite his snarky attitude. “I do a lot of favors for you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You turn around while he steps back and readjusts his glasses. “Was getting us lost one of those favors?”

A strange, almost sadistic kind of grin begins to stretch across his face. “Maybe.”

You hesitate. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs once before backing out of the lookout as you rezip your jeans. “It means…maybe I knew this was the wrong way.”

“…I’m sorry?”

His hands shove into his pockets while his sly smile seems to mirror his satisfaction. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to do some…exploring.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you nearly gasp, striding after him so you can swat your hand across his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You got us lost on purpose?”

“We were never lost, Tinkerbell. I knew exactly where we were."

"Yeah? And where are we?"

"Taking a detour."

“I cannot believe you,” you murmur, staring at him rather incredulously. “God, you are so fucking horny, it’s insane.”

“Oh, relax,” he snorts. “I didn’t take you back here to fuck you. I just thought you’d wanna see the top of the maze.”

“And you couldn’t have just asked?”

“Would you have agreed?”

You consider this. “…all right, maybe not. But you’re still a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” he agrees coyly. “I know.”

You keep your stern glare, but your grin is playful. “Whatever. Does this mean you know the way out?”

“I do,” he says. “There’s a shortcut. Cassie and I used to cheat and use it all the time.”

The revelation of her name makes your breath catch. You hadn’t expected him to reveal something so personal, and there’s a part of you that isn’t quite sure what to do with it.

You can tell he hasn’t realized his slip, because he’s still smiling at you like he’s waiting for you to get the joke. To laugh with him.

But there’s something else in his eye – something beautiful and reminiscent. Excited. Like the mere mention of her name has calmed him. Reminded him of a better time. A happier place. 

Reminded him of someone who isn’t you.

“I see,” you manage, choking the words out as you glance toward the dirt beneath your sneakers. Avoiding his eye. “Well…great. Get me the hell out of here, please.”

He studies you for a moment. You can feel his eyes boring into your profile, as though attempting to work out just what changed in your demeanor.

Then, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and says, “Yeah. This way.”

With that, he maneuvers back through the large stocks of corn and leads you through the intricate labyrinth. Weaving his way along the path and bypassing each checkpoint with ease, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times.

You imagine he has.

You reach the exit in only a few minutes, and relief washes over you as you catch sight of your car in the distance. Your means of escape and your excuse to leave him behind. 

“Thank God,” you mumble as you both slip out from the corn and back into the light. “That was…excruciating.”

“Oh, was it?” he teases. “Really? All of it?”

“Yes, all of it,” you snort, but you feel rather amused as you glance over his expression. “Let’s never get stuck in a corn maze together again, agreed?”

“Agreed,” he replies, but there’s a certain playful glimmer in his eye. “We can just fuck the old-fashioned way. In your car.”

“Gee, great.”

You both fall silent as your quippy remarks die down. Looking at each other like you’re waiting for someone to break the spell. To return you both to your anger and your rivalry. To poke fun at the few moments of intimacy and understanding you shared and release you from this strange yearning.

You decide to be the first, clearing your throat as quietly as you can while reaching for the collar of the hoodie to slip it off. “Uh, well…thanks again. For letting me borrow this.”

He blinks, momentarily puzzled – or perhaps…disappointed? – as he watches you pull it from your body. “Yeah. No problem. Just bring a fucking coat next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, remember?” you retort, tossing it over. 

He catches it with one hand, and smiles. “Right. And thank God for that.”

“Exactly.”

Another lull, the two of you continuing to stand in the dimly lit parking lot as you wait for him to say goodbye.

And suddenly, you realize…you don’t want to go. You don’t want to say goodbye. That you feel…safer when he’s around. More relaxed and at ease. Even when you’re griping with him or resisting the urge to put his head through a wall, he’s still…comforting. A forceful and reassuring presence that you otherwise feel lost without. 

Because you remember who he was before…Cassie. You remember his kindness and his ability to make you laugh.

And you know that he’s still that person. He’s still trying to take care of the people he feels closest to, even when he doesn’t mean to. Even when he doesn’t realize.

You know why he pushed you away. You know why he’s created such a vast, unyielding distance. And you can’t exactly blame him.

But the version of him that automatically thinks to care for you…that’s the version you’re drawn to. That’s the version you don’t want to say goodbye to.

“What?” he asks, grinning again as his head cocks. Seeming to notice the shift in your expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You hesitate, lashes fluttering as you work out a response. Wondering just how much you can share…and how much of it is real. “Nothing, I…this was just…”

He waits, brow raised. 

Your lips clamp. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about all the fucking work I have to do when I go in tomorrow, thanks to you.”

And you can see he’s unconvinced, eyes flicking between yours as if looking for the real answer. But he waits a beat before his smile fades and he asks, “Why did you really come tonight?”

A bit caught off-guard by the question, you blink. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could have partnered with anyone else. If you really wanted,” he explains, slowly stepping closer. Forcing a hitch in your throat. “Could have left me behind. Gone ahead. But you didn’t. Why?”

And there it is. That hint – that almost undetectable trace – of vulnerability behind the usual arrogance. He’s giving you the chance, offering you an opportunity for truth.

And maybe you want to take it. Maybe you want to confess and unburden yourself of this weight that’s settled on your shoulders. 

The truth teases the tip of your tongue, laden with consequences.

But just before you can offer him the real answer, there’s a distant laugh from one of the groups back in the maze. Interrupting the moment and stealing what little courage you had left.

Your lashes flutter quickly as if shaking yourself from a daze, and you step back. Forcing distance between your bodies in an attempt to find clarity. 

Harry watches you go, expression hard and etched with frustration, while you swallow thickly and spin on your heel. 

He doesn’t call after you as you race to your car. Doesn’t insist on an answer or try to make you stay.

He merely stands there beneath the warm hue of the streetlamp, allowing you to run away, and disappear into your car before fleeing the scene.

Leaving him behind. 

Previous Part:

~ Always*

~ 404 Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[jazzyoranges]

Harleys in Hawaii

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend

Words: 4.5k

A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii

Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇

Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least

“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs

“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”

This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”

“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”

“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her

“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out

“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”

“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”

“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”

“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”

“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”

“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”

“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are

—

You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things

Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife

Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study

Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there

Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-

“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”

“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion

“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder

“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends

“Sam’s friend is really hot.”

“Understandable” Chad nods

“Definitely ask her out”

“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts

You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over

“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?

“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend

Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”

“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”

You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”

“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles

“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion

“So, what exactly do you need help with?”

Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).

A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)

“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans

“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”

“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks

“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her

“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly

“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor

“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car

Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter

When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind

First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on

A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after

“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”

“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does

“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”

“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm

“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body

—

Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere

“Wanna go to the movies?”

“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”

“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone

“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you

At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack

When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door

“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff

“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it

“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table

“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”

“I think that’s just you being old”

“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice

“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”

“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor

The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her

“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs

“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”

“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”

“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart

The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat

“Dude, how are you so good?”

“I guess I just have more experience”

“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child

“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”

“We have Uno” Sam suggests

Oh how foolish she was.

Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans

“Please are you two almost done?”

“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads

“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”

“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”

“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter

Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?

Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo

“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers

“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin

“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”

“Your baby?”

“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder

“You named your motorcycle?

“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”

“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further

“You never answered my question”

“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”

“But would you mind?”

“No, you’re my friend”

A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do

Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat

“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.

Oh but she does

Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately

You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily

“You alright, Tar?” You bend down

“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity

“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”

“No, I mean stay here.”

“You… You want me to stay in your room?”

Tara nods.

“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.

“I won’t be far, I promise”

“I don’t care you’re older than me.”

“W-What?”

“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers

“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again

“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her

“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature

“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”

“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”

“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone

“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice

“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight

“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”

“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas

“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles

“…can I wear your shirt?”

“I’m right here, you know”

“I wanna be closer to you”

“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark

You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.

Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later

“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly

“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”

“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“

“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”

“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam

“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders

“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”

The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open

“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck

“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”

“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion

“Tyler the creator”

“Is he any good?”

“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”

“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night

Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter

—

You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments

Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug

“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks

“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”

“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”

“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”

“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”

“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”

“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”

“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”

“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes

“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed

“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”

“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”

“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately

—

“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”

“A lot like being 22”

“Noting different?”

“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”

You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend

“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”

“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”

“Aw you’re no fun”

“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants

“Mhm, and what type of fun?”

“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples

Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her

“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks

“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight

“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“

“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name

“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh

When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead

—

“So, what’re your plans for the break?”

“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”

“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”

“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”

“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead

“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”

“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes

“Kiss it better?”

—

“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”

“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”

“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm

“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”

You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.

“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it

“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”

“…Aesthetic?”

“You’re not that old, love”

Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara

“Aviator or round?”

“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face

“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”

“There’s a difference?”

“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”

Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving

Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you

With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you

[beesarekindaswag]

Prompt : The Mean Girls of Wayne Enterprises

Hear me out…. Mean Girls but make it DCxDP.

The public personas that the bats present, modeled after “Brucie” Wayne are the perfect templates for Mean Girls shenanigans.

Imagine : Our favourite ghost boy has decided to venture out into the world after making sure that Amity would be safe and secure (perks of being the recently crowned King). Danny knows he’d never pass the physical tests to be an astronaut but that doesn’t mean he can’t at least achieve part of his space dream. He’d done his research, very thoroughly at that, and overall it was Wayne Enterprises that came out on top. Their aerospace department was miles ahead of the competition - presumably something to do with Bruce Wayne literally being the one funding the Justice League (and if rumour is to be believed, the OG sugar daddy for a certain Bat).

Disregarding Danny’s personal feelings about the JL, the chance to create technology that will be used in SPACE, for space exploration and understanding was too good to pass up.

Just the thought alone filled him with a sense of contentment. Thankyou space obsession.

Which is what had lead to the current situation - an internship at Wayne Enterprises itself. How he landed it, he has no clue - sure, he’s got some smarts (much more than he’ll give himself credit for) but his grades had suffered from his years of literally saving the city (and by extension, the world). Perhaps it was fate? Or more likely, a meddling time god…

Danny wasn’t complaining though.

Only three hours in to the position and he was barely containing his excitement - literally, the fulfillment of his secondary obsession, regardless of how second hand it might be, created such a buzz in his core. He was having to consciously stop his more ghostly attributes from shining through - not even metaphorically shining, damn you LED freckles (yes we’re using the concept of Danny’s ghost from reflecting his love of space - constellation freckles and all)

Now though, he had been released to break in the cafeteria. There was a panicked moment of ‘oh shit, where do I sit?’ But thankfully, his (half) life was saved by one of his new coworkers calling him over with a friendly wave.

“Hey, Daniel, right?”

“I go by Danny but yeah, thanks for the save there” a awkward laugh at his own words, “didn’t expect it to feel like high school all over again”

There’s polite laughter amongst the table and the conversation flows over to casual small talk. At least, it does until out of nowhere, all eyes jump to the doors.

Enter : The Plastics.

Richard Grayson - the dumbest guy you’ll ever meet.

“Once, he asked me why aster isn’t the opposite of disaster”

Timothy Drake - knows everything about everyone.

“That’s why his eyebags are so big - they’re full of secrets”

And the queen bee, Damian Wayne.

“Once he called me an uncultured swine… it was awesome”

(I don’t know what’s better - Damian aged up to match Danny or tiny Damian being Regina)

What follows is a comedic story: Danny meeting the three, them assuming he’s going to be out of touch being from the Midwest (he is but only in the sense that his version of normal is Fenton dumbfuckery) , him eventually getting past their public personas by just not giving a shit for their drama - he grew up with the QUEEN of mean girls, the Wayne boys have nothing on Paulina Sanchez.

Just, Mean girls Waynes… that’s it - that’s the post.

[sea-lanterns]

FRIDAY THE 13TH

synopsis: (slasher! AU) the camp urban legend is real...?!

featuring: raiden ei

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, blood, violence, murder, gory descriptions of death, dru.gging, stalking, mentions of child death, mentions of drowning, slow burn, fing.ering, size kink, fondling, ni.pple play, rough se.x, marking, hickies, pwp, might be ooc.

art credits: chainsaw man

“Legend has it that a camper at Camp Crystal Lake drowned after a couple of counselors left their posts to go make out in their cabins. When the kid drowned, they said her vengeful spirit haunts Camp Crystal Lake, killing horny counselors who abandon their duties to act on their lust, and—”

“Oh shut up, that’s just an urban legend…!”

As your coworkers bickered over the hazy campfire, you speared another marshmallow onto your stick and started roasting the sugary confection in silence. It was the early days of June, cicadas buzzing in the distance as you and a few other adults were hired to work at Camp Crystal Lake as counselors. You were tasked with getting the camp ready before the next group of campers arrived next week, so the camp grounds were mostly empty with the exception of you and your colleagues.

“Hey, hey, you think the legend is real?” One of your friends nudged you, taking a bite out of her s’mores. “Do you think a ghost is really haunting the lake?”

“Of course not.” You chuckled softly, groaning when you saw your marshmallow catch on fire. “It’s probably just a story the owner told us so we don’t abandon our jobs. We’re here to watch the kids, remember? Not have sex with each other.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Another guy butts in, smirking and wrapping an arm around you. “The owner isn’t here tonight, so we could all have fun before he gets back.”

You made an annoyed expression when he touched you, slowly prying his arm off and giving him a scowl. “Hands off.” You say with a frown, threatening him to not touch you again.

“Geez, okay…okay…” he quickly retracts his hand, but that arrogant smile is back on his face. “No need to be so bitchy…”

If you could throw a machete at him, you would, but for now all you could do was seethe in silence as you wave your marshmallow around to extinguish the flame. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” you say before getting up. “If we stay out any longer, we’ll be drenched in rain. The weather forecast said there was a thunderstorm coming over the area.”

“Yeah yeah…” a lot of your colleagues waved you off and you sighed before packing up your things. No one really listened to what you had to say, and while it did bug you, you knew it would bite them in the ass later when their campfire gets rained on. You left the bustling group to head back to your old, rickety cabin. The camp has definitely seen better days, but you knew better than to complain. So long as you had electricity, some heating, and warm water, you were good to go. 

“Ugh…so sticky…” you mumbled to yourself as you scratched at a mosquito bite you had gotten while outside. The sweat and humidity of being out in the woods was starting to get to you, and you couldn’t wait to take a decent shower the moment you stepped into the bathroom. 

Slowly slipping out of your clothes, you played around with the water temperatures until it was at the perfect temperature for you to get in. As you did however, you began to hear the light pitter patter of rain outside, chuckling to yourself as you imagined the distraught faces of your coworkers yelling in annoyance. ‘That’ll teach ‘em…’ you thought to yourself, squirting some shampoo into your palm. ‘Maybe next time they’ll listen to me when I say it’s gonna rain.’

You heard the distraught screaming of your coworkers in the distance and sighed with the pleasure of knowing you were right. Combing your hands through your scalp, you hummed to yourself before a particularly loud lightning strike boomed across the camp, startling you a bit as it came so suddenly and knocked all the power out.

‘Bzzzt.’

“…Dammit.”

You let out a sigh and quickly washed your head clean before grabbing a towel to dry yourself off. No way in hell were you going to shower in pitch dark blackness. It’s dangerous and plus, you were a little creeped out with being naked and alone in the dark.

“I swear, this camp is on its last wire…” you groaned, fumbling around for some clothes and putting them on as best as you can. You wanted to make sure some of your colleagues were alright and pushed open the door to your main cabin. “Is everyone okay—”

Your eyes widened when you saw that no one else was in your cabin. Your roommates were nowhere to be seen, and you thought they had gone inside already due to the rain. 

“…What the.” You fumbled around towards your backpack and grabbed the spare flashlight you had in there for emergencies. “Guys? You aren’t back yet?”

You flipped the flashlight on and shone it across the room. There weren’t any traces of your roommates even making it back to the cabin. No wet footprints, no shoes by the door, nothing. “Are they seriously still out there?” You groaned, grabbing one of your raincoats and putting it on. “I swear, if I have to be the one to check the power box…”

You frowned and checked outside the window to see if you could find anyone coming back from the lake. When all you saw were the empty campgrounds however, you started getting a bit worried, wondering if something happened to your colleagues while camping out by the lake.

‘Oh god…did someone get injured?’ You couldn’t help but grow curious and swallow any fear you had left, opening the door to head outside, and see if everyone was alright. The air had gone from humid to wet, as your body was instantly pelted with summer rain that had you wincing slightly in disgust. You just showered, and the feeling of going out in humidity again made your skin crawl with discomfort.

“Just a quick check…and then I’ll go back inside…” Your flashlight helped you see through the dark as you made your way down to the campfire by the beach. The flame was long extinguished by the time you got down there, as the only thing left was rising smoke, and a dozen empty chairs.

“…Guys?” The sight of the empty chairs made your skin crawl, taking note of how everyone’s stuff was still left scattered about. “Oh my god…”

You felt goosebumps litter your arms as you slowly shone your flashlight over the shore. It was dead quiet save for your breathing, and you slowly walked closer to the campsite only to stop dead in your tracks.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so bad you couldn’t believe what you saw was real. 

One of your coworkers was lying dead against the shore, her eyes wide open as blood seeped from a wound she acquired on her head. It was a deep, angry red gash that gushed so much blood you couldn’t even recognize her face, some of the rain sliding down her cheeks but unable to wash it fully. 

“Oh…god…” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Every instinct in your body told you to cry for help, but knowing that there was an active danger on the campgrounds, you decided to keep silent and quickly hid behind a large bush to stay away from the open. 

‘Crap…crap…crap…’ you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to will away the traumatic sight of your dead colleague. The image of her lifeless eyes making your stomach churn with anxiety as you took heavy breaths to calm yourself down. ‘This isn’t real…this can’t be real…’

You took another quick glance at the body and cursed yourself for looking once again. Your chest hurt from the fear you felt at that very moment, and you decided you had to call the authorities to the camp right away.

Slowly getting up from your hiding spot, you carefully made your way over to the generator building to see if you could fix the power. Since the power was down, you were unable to call the authorities until it somehow came back up again. Unfortunately for you however, you had no time to wait, and had to go manually check it yourself in order to get help. 

‘Why is it always me…’ you winced, hurriedly making your way over to the generators and trying to be as stealthy as possible. After a long trek through the woods, you finally came across the generators’ building in the far back side of the camp, the door cracked open slightly and swaying back and forth in the breeze.

Your heart stopped when you saw that someone had managed to get in, and although the most logical assumption would be that one of your colleagues had gone in to fix the power, you were too scared to check as you wondered if the killer that murdered your friend was in there. ‘I don’t want to take any chances…’ you thought, quickly backing away from the building and deciding to head back to your cabin to barricade yourself in. 

Whatever is happening on camp grounds can be dealt with by the police. You had to get yourself somewhere safe, and although you could always try to run for it, the camp was over ten miles away from the nearest town, a distance you couldn’t possibly cover in the dead of night, under the rain, and only in your PJs…

“I just need to hide until morning…or at least until the rain stops…” you mutter to yourself, finding your way back to your cabin and locking it up once you are safe inside. You decided the best course of action would be to barricade all your furniture against the door and check the bathroom window to see if it was locked. Not wasting another second, you ran over to your dresser and pushed your body up against it, slowly pushing it against the door in hopes of providing a stable barricade.

‘Alright, that should be enough for now…’ you wiped the sweat off your brow and walked over to the bathroom door, twisting the knob to check if the windows were locked. 

“…What the.” The door didn’t budge as you tried to push the door open, something heavy preventing you from opening the door. “Why won’t you…move—!”

With a bang, you shoved the door open, only to let out a shriek of terror as the body of one of your roommates fell out and landed at your feet. Her head had a nasty gash emitting blood from it, and the smell of iron quickly filled your nostrils which caused you to hunch over in nausea. “Oh…oh my god—!” You immediately backed up away from the sight, only to have your back collide with the front of someone very large and very tall…

Upon feeling someone firm right behind you, your entire body froze as fear paralyzed your brain. You could feel it. Someone behind you, someone who was in your cabin the whole time, as you failed to check all closets for the possibility of someone hiding.

“…Crap.” You let out a small squeak and gasped when the person behind you wrapped a broad arm around your waist, encircling you like the prey you were, and making you feel weak and helpless under their grasp. “…Please don’t hurt me, I…I…”

Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt a wet rag cover your mouth, your throat letting out several muffled screams, as the smell of something foreign entered your nose and knocked you out.

The last thing you felt before you blacked, was the feeling of strong arms hoisting you up into the air, and draping you over someone’s broad shoulders…

You had no idea how much time had passed. Your head was throbbing, and your stomach was doing flips when you finally came to your senses. From what you could feel, you were on some mattress on the ground, located in some abandoned shed, as you realized you were somewhere not in your cabin…

Every inch of your body was sore from the chloroform, your senses all drugged up as you groggily looked around at your surroundings. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw a woman in the corner busy sharpening her machete, her back turned to you as she didn’t notice you waking up from your slumber. You had to get out of here, and if you could somehow sneak by the woman without her noticing, you could try and book it to the next town over, not caring about how long it took.

Taking a shallow breath, you were about to begin sneaking away, when the woman suddenly turned around and made dead eye contact with you.

What the fuck.

Adrenaline coursed through your entire body as you saw the woman’s appearance for the very first time. She was tall, accompanied by an athletic figure that hunched over you in a way that made you feel incredibly weak. What was most noticeable about her however, was the chipped, bloody hockey mask she wore to obscure her identity. Her breathing came out in ragged, heavy pants as she stared at you with the look of a predator ready to take its next prey.

“I…uh…” you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Fingers trembling the longer you stared. “I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done to anger you. I didn’t mean to discover the body…I just…I wanted to be safe…and…”

You squeaked when she leaned closer, her figure towering over yours as you had no choice but to lean back against the bed. She was so, so close, breathing heavily above you as all you could see was her hockey mask and her ridiculously shiny machete. “Ah…I’m sorry…” you meekly said again, tears beginning to spill out of your eyes and leak past your chin. “I don’t want to die now…I didn’t even get to start my job…”

You sniffed and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact of the machete hitting your face, only to grow confused when it never came.

“…Huh?”

Instead, what touched your face was the warm, gentle caress of the killer woman in front of you. Her large, calloused hands moving up to wipe your tears away, as she hushed for you to calm down with that quiet voice of hers.

“…Don’t cry.” She says in a muffled voice, leaning back to grab something from a jar. “Candy.”

She extends her hand out to you and holds out a little wrapped candy for you to take, acting all nonchalant as if she didn’t just brutally massacre your roommate right in front of you.

“…I, uh…”

Sensing your hesitance, the masked woman gently nudged the candy against your cheek. “Candy.” She repeated, tilting her head a little when you didn’t take it. “…Do you not like candy?” 

“Oh. Well…” you were growing confused at the escalating conversation, unsure if this was a trick or some kind of ploy to get you to trust her. “…Thank you?”

In the end, you decided to play along and take the candy offered from her hand. Seeing how you accepted her gift, she nodded and reached over to pat your head like a little puppy, clearly happy with the way you allowed her to treat you. Now that you are no longer crying, the masked killer stands up and goes back to sharpening her machete, leaving you alone and puzzling you once more with how gentle she was being in comparison to the other people. 

I mean, just a few hours ago she had brutally murdered most —if not all— your coworkers in the camp you were supposed to work at. How is it that she was being so gentle with you now? Was there something special to you that made her become so lenient? 

“…” A deft silence overcame the two of you and you had no choice but to look around the shed in curiosity. Noticing a faded newspaper by your feet, you reached down to pick it up and read the blaring headline on the front.

“Kid drowns at Camp Crystal Lake due to negligent counselors.”

Your eyes widen slightly once you read it, your coworker’s faint recalling of the urban legend playing back on your mind. 

“A girl identified as Raiden Makoto was found dead after she drowned in Camp Crystal Lake waters. No lifeguards or counselors were seen at the time of the drowning, and she was confirmed dead due to negligence of Camp Crystal Lake staff.”

Besides the text was a faded photo of a young girl with long, purple, braided hair. She smiled so beautifully at the camera, so youthful and innocent. Her death was so abrupt, and you couldn’t help but feel bad as you realized the supposed urban legend was actually true.

…However, the longer you stared at the faded photo, the more you began to realize how similar she looked to the masked woman in front of you. That long, purple, braided hair matched the hair of the woman sharpening her machete, and you swallowed in realization of the discovery you had just made. 

“You’re…the kid who drowned all those years ago.” You say softly, looking up at the woman. “You’re Raiden Makoto.”

You could visibly see the woman tense up, slowly turning around to face you. With a few heavy footsteps, she walks over to you once more and shakes her head no, pointing at the girl in the photo.

“My sister.” Is all she says, looking down at you with that solemn expression.

“…Your sister?” Your eyes lit up and you suddenly felt a wave of guilt. “I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The woman in front of you tilted her head slightly, as if comprehending the fact you actually felt sorry for her. “…It’s okay.” She says calmly, patting your head once more and taking the newspaper from your hands. “I got my revenge.”

Your eyes lit up when she said that, and the pieces slowly fell into place. 

“…So, that’s why you’ve been killing my coworkers.” Your breath trembled as full realization came to your senses. “You’ve been killing all the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake…for your sister…”

The masked woman nods slowly and kneels down in front of you so she could be eye level with your face. Your sense of fear was slowly dying down, and you couldn’t help but think the woman was a bit cute with the way she was presenting herself in front of you. “…Is there a reason you haven’t killed me?” You ask softly, keeping a level tone so you wouldn’t startle her. 

The woman nods once more, patting your head and lowering her gaze.

“You are nice.” She says calmly, rubbing the top of your head with her palm, “And responsible…and pretty…”

Your cheeks flushed a little when she called you pretty. 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked gently.

The woman nods.

“Oh…” your face burns hotter at the compliment and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. “What’s your name, if I may ask?” 

“…Ei.” She says quietly, almost a bit hesitant with the way she paused. “Raiden Ei.”

“Ei…” the way you said her name sent shivers down her spine. The fact that her name was being uttered by a beautiful girl like you was enough to get the killer to swoon. “I like that name.”

Ei looked up at you with the most adoring of eyes. Even though her hockey mask covered up most of her expressions, you could tell you hit a soft spot with the way she looked at you with such loving eyes. 

“I like you.” She says calmly, leaning down to stare at you a bit closer, almost towering over you to the point she was pinning you to the bed. “…You are…sweet. Like candy.”

You unconsciously let out a small giggle at her words. Somehow you had forgotten she was an insane, brutal serial killer, but all that melted away with the way she looked at you so lovingly. “Can I…see your face?” You asked tenderly, hesitantly reaching a hand up to caress her blood-stained mask. Ei flinched a little when she felt you reaching for her mask, as she had never let anyone get so close to her without dying. She looked conflicted, silently panicking on what to do as she didn’t want to horrify you with her face and scare you off. 

Sensing her hesitance, you smiled comfortingly and cupped her mask. “I won’t judge you,” you say calmly, trying to soothe the woman’s fears and insecurities. “If you aren’t comfortable, I won’t pry it off you.”

As you moved your hand away however, you suddenly felt Ei’s hand wrap around yours, almost begging for you to come back. 

“W-Wait…” her voice cracked slightly and she shyly moves your hand back to rest on her mask. “I want…I want to…”

You blush at the way she’s calling for you, shakily moving your other hand to grasp at the back of her mask. Your breathing was quick and shallow, the position between you two a lot more intimate than what you were used to. “O…Okay…”

With a steady hand, you unclasped the back of her hockey mask and watched as it gently fell from her face. A gasp caught itself in your throat, as you admired the slasher’s face in all its bare beauty. 

Ei was beautiful. 

“You’re…quite the sight,” you chuckle softly, admiring the way her facial features glistened from the window of the shed. “Have you…never seen yourself before?”

Ei shakes her head no.

“That’s a shame.” You smile softly, reaching up to caress the surprisingly soft skin of her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Her breath hitches when you call her beautiful, and Ei can’t help but be drawn closer to you with the way you allured her. She had always admired you from afar when she was plotting your coworkers’ downfall, and to have you sitting there right in front of her was just too tempting to resist. 

Like a magnet, Ei takes a deep breath before slowly moving in to brush her lips against your face. When she sees you flinch but not back away, she takes it as a sign to keep going, wrapping a strong arm around your waist before slowly inching forward to claim what she desires.

She kisses you. Gently so while keeping you pressed firmly against her body with her strength, almost as if she were scared of letting you go. You were definitely surprised to say the least, the tall woman’s lips pushing roughly against you until you lost balance and fell over onto the bed. As your back hit the soft plushness of the mattress, Ei let out a small groan and climbed on top of you to continue kissing you, sloppily trying to slip her tongue in to taste you, before getting playfully pushed away by your soft little palms. 

“Hey, hey…” you chuckled softly, watching as her face scrunched up in confusion. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Ei bites her lip for a moment and hesitantly shakes her head no, causing you to stifle a laugh from your lips. “Pfft…don’t worry, I’ll show you,” you say reassuringly, holding onto one of her hands and cupping her fingers tenderly. “These are what you’ll be using most of the time when pleasing another woman.” You explain, running your fingers up and down hers. You took notice of how rough and calloused they were from working out in the woods, not to mention how big her fingers were compared to yours, as you couldn’t help but imagine her stuffing each wide digit inside you. 

‘That’s gonna need some prep…’ you thought to yourself, slowly moving her hand down so she could cup your breast. “Here. You want to do some foreplay on a woman before doing anything super intimate with her. Foreplay is important, as it— ahh…!”

Ei suddenly gave your breast a squeeze and started fondling it like instinct. If this was her first time being with a woman, you couldn’t tell, because she had already stuffed her hands under your shirt and started fondling you through the confines of your bra. 

“Haah…wait—!” You couldn’t help but let out a groan when she eagerly slid her hands under your bra, calloused fingers rubbing harshly against the sensitive buds of your nipples and twisting them in ways that had you gripping at her back. “I think…I can figure it out.” Was all Ei said before smirking down at you with confidence. That facade of acting all cute in front of you now long gone, as she was determined to wreck you on this little mattress of hers.

“W-Wait—! There’s no need to be so ro— mhnnn…!” Your head lolled back in pleasure when Ei suddenly yanked your shirt up and pulled your bra top down. Rough hands engulfing your chest to give it a firm squeeze, and pinning you down to the mattress with little to no effort. 

“Can I…Can I keep going?” Ei asks softly, a sharp contrast to the way she was brutally manhandling your tits. 

“You…nngh…I guess so…” you pathetically whimpered out, still in shock with how she managed to flip the roles so easily. 

At your approval, Ei nods and moves her head down to begin suckling dark hickies all over your stomach, tongue lapping over the smooth surface of your belly and making you whine with how rough she was treating you. It didn’t hurt by any means necessary, but you did feel your mind slowly break into submission for letting Ei use you as she pleased. ‘Crap…she’s so rough…’ you couldn’t help but think, letting out another whine when her hands suddenly gripped your thighs. 

“I need…I need more…” you hear Ei groan, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your shorts. “Can I pull them off? Please, please?”

She was almost grunting in your ear with how bad she wanted you, burying her face against your neck like a dog in heat. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever say no to her, so you nodded enthusiastically before cupping her face. “Go ahead, Ei. I’m all yours…just be gentle…”

Oh the look on Ei’s face when you told her you were hers. It was like a primal desire had awakened in her, as she tore off your shorts with little to no effort and hoisted your legs up to saddle around her shoulders. You let out a yelp when you felt her rip your shorts so violently, and you couldn’t help but whine to her since they were your favorite shorts.

“Ei…!” 

“I’ll…find you some new ones.”

She was clearly distracted with the way her eyes landed on your panties, licking her lips at the sight before looking up at you for one last request of permission. 

“May I…?” She asks quietly, the hunger glowing in her eyes with the way she so desperately wanted to devour you. 

“…Of course.” You say softly, taking a breather and lying back against the mattress. “Just promise to go slow, you have wide fingers…”

Ei smiles at this compliment before moving down to slide your panties up until they dangle at the ankle of your leg. Her mouth instantly waters at the sight of your exposed cunt, and she has to stop herself from just plunging her fingers inside you to feel how tight you’d be around her. 

‘Slow…’ she has to remind herself, pressing a large thumb over your clit. ‘Slow…’

She catches the way your lips part when she presses over your clit, and Ei can’t help but groan at the sight. She stares at the way your essence begins dripping out of your hole, and the more she plays with you, the more slick your pussy gets while she spreads your lower lips open. 

“Pretty…” you head Ei mumble, before gently easing one of her wide fingers inside you. “And t-tight…” She whimpers a little when she feels you squeeze so wonderfully around her, her groans growing more shallow as she eases her way inside of you. 

Ei’s fingers were wide, but definitely not as wide as you thought as one finger alone was enough to stretch you pretty far. Your hands were left clinging desperately to the woman’s broad shoulders, taking in sharp breaths to accommodate the large stretch of her giant fingers fucking you raw. “Ei…” you breathed out softly, burying your face into the skin of her neck, “Slower…please…”

Ei couldn’t help but pout a little at your words. Slower? You wanted her to go even slower? She wanted to fuck you as rough as she could, but she understood that a human as delicate as you needed some time to adjust to something of her size.

“Oh…okay…” Ei says softly, going at a much slower pace until she feels you growing more relaxed. “Is this good?”

You let out a few pleasured sighs of ecstasy, and nodded your head to show how good she was making you feel. “Yes, Ei.” You whispered softly, letting out a small moan when the tip of her finger pushed up against a certain spot. “This is good.”

Feeling proud of herself, Ei continues until she feels you are wet enough and decides to push a second finger in to see if you could take two at the same time. 

You could. And with the added pressure of a wider girth expanding your walls, you couldn’t help but buckle your knees and cling onto Ei more tightly. “Goodness, Ei,” you breathed out heavily, watching as her thick fingers sunk deep into you with every thrust and bounce, “For someone who hasn’t done this before, you certainly learn quickly…”

Ei smiles proudly when you compliment her sex skills, and decides to push her luck by shoving a third wide finger to see how much you could take. 

The moment you feel an added width to your already large pair of fingers, you feel your senses go into overdrive as she begins pounding all three fingers as deep as they could go. 

“E-Ei! Ei w-wait—!” You let out a whine as she continues fucking you with no other care in the world. While Ei definitely tried to go as slow as she could to appease your sensitivity, she eventually caved to her own carnal instincts and resorted to fucking you wild like a dog in heat. 

“Nngh…hnn…” With each wet thrust, Ei let out a grunt that had you dripping over the mattress, the palm of her hand slapping against your ass, as she brought you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. “Please be close…please…please…”

She moves her fingers harder against your cunt, before feeling you tense up around her fingers and cream all over her hand. The moans you let out were simply delectable, and Ei couldn’t help but groan in her own world of pleasure before pulling her fingers out to have a taste. 

As you recover from the intense orgasm you just had, Ei sticks her fingers into her mouth and licks your cum off her digits. The sight of such a tall, dangerous woman seductively sucking your cum off her fingers had you dripping wet once more, whining at the sight of her humming in pleasure before leaning down to kiss you. 

“Tasty…” Ei murmurs against your lips, the tall woman gripping your waist and pulling you down so that she was spooning you from behind. “You taste so good…”

You tried catching your breath as she wraps her arms around you and plants sweet kisses against the back of your head. The adrenaline and fatigue of tonight having finally caught up with you as you slowly felt your eyes drift close in the comfort of your new lover’s arms. 

“Are you…going to stay with me now…?” Ei asks softly, brushing your hair back and staring at you with the sweetest of eyes. You gazed up at her with a half lidded smile, the deaths of your coworkers no longer a matter to you as you only needed Ei in your life and Ei alone. 

“I’ll stay.” You say sleepily, enjoying the way Ei held onto you and snuggled you deeper against her chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

Ei smiled at this and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your recently shampooed hair, before closing her eyes and mumbling. 

“Good.”

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Imagine…

BAU!reader being married to Hotch but keeping her maiden name in the field to avoid assumptions and judgment. The team knows, obviously, but then a former colleague of Aaron’s from the Seattle office happens to be in town for a conference and wants to catch up over a drink. You can’t help but tease him, of course:

“Knock, knock,” you murmur, leaning against the doorway to your husband’s office. With a glance at your watch, you ask, “Y’gonna be late for your date?”

Aaron looks up at you with a frown before returning his attention to his case file and mumbling, “Not a date.”

“Mm, my apologies,” you respond with a twitch of your lips as you approach his desk. You lean your elbows on the dark wood and rest your chin in your open hands. Batting your eyelashes, you amend, “It’s a meeting betwixt old coworkers.”

Aaron rises from his chair, pressing his fists against the desk opposite you and positively towering over your smaller stature. He meets your fiery gaze with equal defiance, then leans forward to press a kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Are you our resident Reid while he’s with his mom? Who says ‘betwixt’?”

“Oh, shut up, nerd,” you taunt back between kisses of your own. “You collected coins; I played Scrabble. Now get going! Can’t leave a lady waiting for the Aaron Hotchner.”

—————

But WAIT! There’s more! Said agent gets a call while they’re out for a drink and asks Aaron and the BAU for help on a new case. Naturally, you all have to fly to Seattle together…

“Mama, you know this cabin is pressurized, right?” Derek teases with a nudge of your shoulder.

You mumble back around a sip of coffee, “Yeah, so?”

“So if you glare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole through the jet and we’re all gonna die up here.”

Emily snorts out a laugh and you steal a Cheeto from JJ’s snack (for which you’re met with a stern, “Hey!”) to throw at her. Emily collects the offensive projectile from her lap and pops it into her mouth with a ferocious chomp in your direction, receiving an, “Oh, bite me, Prentiss,” in response.

“Just find a way to slip in that you’re married,” JJ counsels, moving the bag out of your reach to avoid further retaliation.

“Or accidentally fall into his lap. Turbulence can be nasty, you know,” Emily offers as a follow up.

“Like that?” you deadpan, jutting your chin toward the scene at the back of the jet. Aaron and Agent Brandt are over by the coffee, and she’s just steadied herself using your husband’s broad shoulder.

“Or,” Derek counteroffers, tugging at the chain around your neck that holds your wedding and engagement rings while you’re out in the field, “put this rock on and go claim your man!”

“This is dumb. I’m being dumb,” you grumble, flipping open the case file and burying your head in it. “Can we get back to talking about this sociopath and not my high school-esque jealousy?”

“What’s happening? Did I miss anything?” Garcia’s blonde curls bounce up on the monitor before your group, ready for the next installment of this evidently riveting saga.

“Nothing is happening, Pen,” you respond with a sharp look her way, “and y’all need to get out more. Watch a romcom or something if you need some angst.”

“You all completely suck,” Penelope sighs dramatically. “My cup runneth empty in my lair!”

“Then go get yourself another cappuccino, baby girl,” Derek answers smoothly with that dazzling smile of his, perched on the armrest of your seat.

You feel his presence before you hear his voice, every atom in your body suddenly on high alert and keenly aware of everything that is Aaron. “Hey.”

You look up at him with an easy smile, determined to not let your unwarranted bitterness reflect on your work. “What’s up, Hotch?”

He squats down in the aisle beside you so he’s not looming over you and brushes his knuckles across your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender touch, given your current audience. “Do you have that travel bottle of Advil? Brandt may have been overzealous with the margaritas last night.”

“Yeah, it’s… in the side pocket of my bag,” you answer, brow furrowed because he tossed it in there this morning to ward off your inevitable headaches during the coming late nights.

“You’re the best, honey,” he murmurs, standing halfway to press a kiss to your forehead before returning to his full height and going off in search of the pain killer.

“‘Overzealous with the margaritas’, huh?” Emily teases, then starts singing the viral song about just how many margaritas are needed to perform certain acts that shan’t be discussed in polite company.

From across the plane, Dave glances at Aaron who’s rummaging through the overhead luggage bin, then turns his attention to you with a knowing gaze. You avert your eyes, feeling a blush creeping across your cheeks, and settle back in your seat before flipping through the case file in front of you. “So crime scene photos would suggest we’re dealing with a disorganized killer…”

—————

But WAIT! There’s even more!

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner