#Backrooms needs more attention

[anabellelycan]

We need more backrooms shit

[orange-orchard-system]

I don't think the Backrooms works as anything other than a collective shitpost by people going "okay, but here's MY idea to make it more fucked up" and others responding "oh my fuck that's incredible". I just don't think it works as anything else. All the games I've seen focus on like. Being a scientist or explorer or whatever and it's like no. No, this is not the SCP Foundation, get that out of here. This is about being somewhere you are well aware you are not meant to be in and stumbling into discoveries about this land that do not reassure you about your ability to survive at all. This is about people making themselves a home and community even in the face of the world itself not being made for them. This is a testament to humanity's perseverance that doesn't place humans above any other species, and in fact warns them that they are not any more special than anyone else in this land they didn't mean to end up in, so they best be careful. And a movie? A movie?? Bet you twenty dollars they fuck it up trying to add some inane plotline that doesn't actually mean anything to the actual lore and world building of the Backrooms. "The Backrooms is SCP but worse" has done so much damage to people's understanding of it. Do you say antique stores are worse versions of libraries? Where's your sense of whimsy about being somewhere you aren't meant to be. Where's your imagination. The Backrooms can be taken as a metaphor for life and trauma and growing up and so much more and it's intertwined with lots of people just having a good ol' time. But no one outside of the actual fandom respects what it actually is, they just see it as something it's not, and thus think it "failed". I'm going to bite a movie director

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Cherry Red.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.

Word Count: 1.9k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.

Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.

Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”

‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.

Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”

“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”

Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”

It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”

And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”

If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”

It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—

Oh, god.

As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”

For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.

There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”

Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”

A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.

You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.

~

You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.

Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”

Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”

“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.

You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.

At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[eroselless]

─────────────── somebody else // 1

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist 

warnings: insecure reader

note: thank you to the anon that requested this! i absolutely loved writing this. although the anon didn’t specify if they wanted this as a multi-partner, i feel like i wouldn’t be able to do it justice with just one part. i tried my best to make this a little bit of a slow burn without dragging it out too much. happy reading!

The hum of the engines reverberates through the paddock as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. It casts long shadows over the track, the sky painted in soft pinks and purples. You huff as you move around the backroom, not yet used to the fast-paced world of Formula 1, the chaos that comes with each race still new to you. You’ve been working as part of the McLaren hospitality team for a few weeks now, moving from city to city, country to country as the season unfolds quickly. It is a demanding job, with long hours and high expectations, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You were introduced to the sport later in life, in your late teens. Your father had been involved in karting, often taking you to his races, but he had never considered going any further. You had grown accustomed to the roar of the cars, the smell of burning rubber, the palpable tension in the air – it became intoxicating, thrilling, and nerve-wracking. You had slowly pushed yourself to become more involved, snagging a job that you had anticipated for a long time. Working in F1, even just in hospitality, was a dream that could open doors for you.

Like any other race weekend, you are on your feet from sun up till sun down. You ensure that everything runs smoothly for all the guests that come and go in the McLaren suite. You move through the crowds with a practiced grace, offering smiles and the most attentive service to VIPs, sponsors, and team members alike.

You reach over the table, pouring out champagne to a group of executives, feeling a tinge on the back of your neck. Glancing up, you can feel someone’s eyes trained on you. There is a rush of chatter, a group of young children, all dressed in matching orange attire.

You see Lando standing among them, a smile on his face as he speaks to them. His eyes flicker up to you, attention divided as he tries his best to keep track of what a young boy is telling him and watching you move around the room.

It becomes harder to ignore as the day drags on, his gaze following you whenever he comes in and out of the suite. You try to think nothing of it; you are one of a handful of servers, you would be noticed, of course. It is nothing, right?

“Need a hand with that?”

The sound of Lando’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, startling you slightly. You turn from your spot at the bar, a tray of empty glasses in your hands, ready to be sent to the kitchen for washing. He leans casually on the counter, fingers fiddling with a homemade bracelet he undoubtedly got from a fan. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, a familiar and warm glint you’d only ever seen from afar. He gestures to the other tray that sits on the bar, equally as full as the one you’re carrying, a lopsided grin on his face.

Forcing a smile, you try your best to push down the flutter in your chest. “I think I can manage, thanks.”

Lando leans in slightly, his voice low. “I’m sure you can, but it never hurts to have a little help, right?”

His close proximity makes your stomach burst with butterflies, but you keep your composure. You shift one tray in your hands, holding up one before grabbing the other one and balancing it on your fingers. “I appreciate the offer, really, but you’ve got a race to focus on. Can't have you getting distracted.”

“Maybe I like distractions,” he quips, his gaze following you as you begin to move away from the bar. He meets your eyes as he raises his eyebrows. “Plus, I’m pretty good at multitasking—driving fast and helping with drinks. Can’t be that different, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back the smile that threatens to pop out. You shake your head as you take another step, breaking away from his stare. “I’ll keep that in mind when I see you out on track.”

He chuckles, his laugh warm and genuine. “You do that. And I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

With that, he saunters off, leaving you standing there slightly confused and trying to process what had just happened. As you watch him go, he turns back slightly to give you another smile and a nod before exiting through the front doors. You can’t help but feel lightheaded as you make your way to the kitchen, biting your lip as you do. Jesus Christ, what was that?

The rest of the day passes in a blur of activity, the memory of Lando’s casual smile lingering in your mind. It doesn’t leave your thoughts as you continue to run into him at the next few races. He pops in before the day descends into full chaos to see how you’re doing and checks on you at the end of the day, always ready with something to make you feel lighter on a stressful race day.

You find yourself expecting his presence, your banter becoming a regular part of your day, a little slice of normalcy in the otherwise hectic and fast-paced environment. He teases you about your work, making light-hearted comments about how serious you’ve become or how you’re in the know about everyone’s gossip. He pulls you into hugs or gives your nose or cheeks a gentle pinch whenever he gets the chance. In return, you tease him about his racing, jokingly offering tips on how to handle certain corners or shave a couple of seconds off his lap times.

One afternoon, he slides into an empty seat, panting as he sinks into the chair. “Hey, you,” he greets, pulling his hat off and placing it on the table in front of you. “Busy day?”

“You could say that,” you reply, glancing up from your work. “How about you? Surviving the media circus?”

“Barely,” he jokes, rolling his eyes. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”

You nod, smiling. “I guess so. You seem to handle it well, though.”

He shrugs, that easy grin still in place. “It’s all about keeping a cool head. Speaking of which, how about you? How are you handling everything?”

“Me?” you question. “I’m just trying to keep up.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he says, his tone sincere. “Seriously, everyone’s noticed how well you’ve fit in around here.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment, and you duck your head, suddenly interested in a spot that won’t come off a spoon. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

There’s a brief silence, the kind that’s beginning to feel familiar between the two of you—comfortable, yet charged with something unspoken. You can feel his eyes on you, observing your gentle movements. When you finally look up, he’s still watching you, a tranquil expression on his face. It makes your heart skip a beat, his blue-green eyes almost admiring you.

“So, what are your plans after this?” he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, trying to keep your tone light, not wanting to reveal that his gaze is melting your resolve. “Maybe just relax, take in the sights. I haven’t really explored much outside of work.”

His smile widens. “Well, if you ever need a tour guide, you know where to find me.”

You laugh, gratefully nodding at him, but your mind races with possibilities you quickly shove away.

It’s not until the next race weekend that you see him again. You’re busy arranging the seating in the hospitality suite when you feel a presence behind you, followed by the gentle sound of cutlery clinking. Before you can turn around, Lando’s voice drifts over your shoulder.

"Straighten up those forks, will you? We wouldn’t want our guests to think we’re unprofessional."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as your fingers move to adjust the silverware he’d nudged out of place. "I’m pretty sure they’re here for the racing, not the table settings."

"Well, if the racing doesn’t impress them, maybe your impeccable attention to detail will," Lando teases, leaning against the back of a chair as he watches you continue to move things around.

You turn to face him, a hand on your hip while the other twists a rag you’ve been using to wipe down the tables. A smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. "And what about you? Do you think my attention to detail is impressive?"

Lando’s smile widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh yeah, I think you’re impressive, full stop."

You shake your head, looking down at a box full of cutlery rolls, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris."

"Who said anything about flattery?" he retorts, his tone light but sincere. "I’m just stating the facts."

"Facts, huh?" you glance over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. "What other facts do you have for me?"

Lando pretends to think for a moment, leaning back in his chair. "Well, let’s see… You’re always the first one here in the morning and the last to leave at night. You keep calm under pressure, even when the kitchen’s on fire—literally. And you have this little tick when you smile—which, by the way, you don’t do enough—you look away or cover your laugh with your hands."

His words catch you off guard, and you pause, unsure of how to respond. You'd grown used to his teasing, but this felt different. He rambles a little as if he can’t get the words out fast enough. It could mean anything, but your mind refuses to acknowledge that it might be more than platonic teasing. You hear the sincerity behind his words, and it makes your heart race slightly, in a way that is both exciting and terrifying.

You quickly mask your uncertainty with a playful roll of your eyes. "And you’ve been keeping track of all this?"

"Maybe," Lando admits, not backing down. His smile softens as he watches you closely, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes.

Before you can respond, the sound of approaching footsteps breaks the moment, and you’re both reminded of where you are. A group of VIP guests enters the room, and you immediately slip back into work mode, offering them a warm smile as you direct them to their seats.

Lando lingers for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before he too slips away, back into the bustle of race day.

Your casual banter continues throughout the day and as the weeks pass. But the more time you spend around Lando, the stronger the urge to pull away becomes. He is so easy to talk to, so genuine in his interactions, but you can’t shake the feeling that you might be reading into things too much. A voice in the back of your mind keeps reminding you of the reality of your situation. He’s Lando Norris—a world-famous racing driver, adored by millions, with the world at his feet. You never doubt your skills, but you are just a hospitality worker, a coworker who happened to become a friend. Just a friend, right?

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few races later, after a hectic race, the team gathers for a small celebration. Both Lando and Oscar had performed well, amplifying the mood around the whole paddock. You're busy fixing drinks and chatting with guests, your thoughts still drifting back to Lando. You feel your heart flutter every time you catch a glimpse of him, whether he is laughing with Oscar or signing autographs for fans that are brought in. You have no doubt that he is an attractive person and are determined not to let your feelings grow further than they already have, but every touch, every brush of his fingers, or his hand on your back, sends your mind spiraling. Could you be seeing something that isn’t there? Is he just being overly friendly now that you have established a connection?

The questions swirl endlessly in your head as the evening wears on, and by the time the celebration winds down, you feel overwhelmed. Stepping outside for fresh air, you find a quiet spot on the balcony overlooking the track. You let out a sigh as you sit down on the ledge. You lean your head back on the wall, trying to clear your head. Your eyes water up a little as you let yourself relax, but you are quick to wipe them away when you hear footsteps approaching.

Turning, you spot Lando. His hands are shoved in his pockets, a gentle smile adorning his lips.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Of course not,” you say, shifting over a little to make room for him. He sits down next to you, a sliver of space between your two bodies. You sit in silence, the night air filled with the distant sounds of the paddock winding down. You can feel warmth radiating from him, a familiar tension beginning to crackle between you. It is a comfortable silence, weighted down by so many questions and unspoken words.

“Tonight was fun,” Lando speaks up after a while, his tone relaxed. “The team did great.”

You hum in agreement. “Yeah, it was a good day,” you say, glancing over at him. “You did great.”

He smiles, a soft, almost shy smile. It's a smile you have grown used to, always paired with rosy cheeks and a bashful look in his eyes. Your heart betrays you as it flutters in your chest. “Thanks. But I couldn’t have done it without the support of the team—including you.”

You smile, turning away instinctively, suddenly aware of the tick he had pointed out just a few weeks ago. “I’m just in hospitality, doing my job.”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “but you do it well. I’ve noticed how hard you work, how much you care about what you do. It’s one of the things I like about you.” He leans back on his hands, watching as you search for what to say.

The words hang in the air, heavy with something you don’t want to acknowledge. The voice in your head speaks again, denying, denying, denying. He’s just being kind, nothing else.

“I—thank you,” you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady. “That means a lot coming from you.”

He looks at you then, really looking at you. His eyes are hooded, eyebrows drawn together slightly. It’s as if he can see right through the defenses you’ve been trying to keep up. There’s something in the way his eyes peer out at you, a vulnerability that seems to mirror yours. There it is again, the nerves and the ache in your chest.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says softly. “I just wanted you to know.”

There is a beat of silence, and before you can respond, the doors open behind you. Your name is called, and you are quickly pulled back, retreating into the safety of professionalism. You’re needed inside.

“I should get back,” you say hastily, blinking the haze out of your eyes. “There’s still a lot to do.”

Lando clears his throat, sitting up, his expression unreadable. His voice is now deflated. “Yeah, of course.”

As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare look back. There are so many emotions swirling in your mind—confusion, longing, and an ever-growing sense of fear. You want so badly to let yourself believe that there could be something growing between you, but there will always be doubts rearing their ugly heads. There will always be whispers telling you that it is all in your head, that you are only setting yourself up for disappointment. As soon as you pass the glass door, you let out a deep breath, a knot forming in your throat.

a/n: thank you so much if you’ve made it to the end! i am already in the process of writing the next part so it should be out soon! any feedback, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, i love seeing your reactions and notes! 

[touchstarvedbrainrot]

A day w/ perv! touchstarved characters

MDNI yeah? Just the LIs being dirty, needy perverts over MC; they low-key take advantage of ya- nothing too extreme but pls don't read if that makes u uncomfy. Yeah just smutty headcanons basically

Perv!Kuras who gives you such caring checkups, gliding his hands over your body.. asking you to bend over and stretch for him. Look at you, being so obedient for him, showing him all the tricks your pretty body can do. It’s all part of the checkup, of course. Even when he rubs your tummy and squeezes your thighs so, so gently… just trust him, he’s the professional, he can take care of you. He can make you so good if you’d just be his Though his bedside manner is still a bit lacking, considering the way he ushers you out so quickly… hoping against hope that you didn’t notice the precum staining through the peak in the bulge in his pants as he rushes into the backroom, fingers twitching over his cock as he undoes his clothes, almost whimpering at the pent-up need for you… with each and every throb and twitch, he becomes more desperate for you… 

Perv!Ais who’s so sweet to invite you over for tea all the time. He’s a decently good host after all, always having plushy pillows and rugs laid out for you to lounge around on while you sip your tea and chat with him. Of course, you don’t know that that exact spot where you’re sitting is where he was spilling cum into his hand for the fifth damn time just thinking of your voice… or of how cute you would be squirming and whining under him, all fucked-out. You don’t know that he barely had time to wipe up the mess before you arrived, that those are your special pillows… the ones only you use to sit, and the ones he humps while he breathes in your still-lingering scent after you leave. You don’t know that while you’re chatting, he’s only thinking of pinning you down and rutting into you until your poor little hole is all sore and sensitive from him… his sweet little sparrow.

Perv!Mhin who follows you as you walk home. Just to make sure you’re not a threat, of course. Just to do recon. Certainly not so that they can watch the sway of your hips and ass as you walk. They just love letting the little critters in the dark alleys spook you, so that they can appear at just the right time, your little guardian angel always there to make you feel good safe. And to scold you, because the way you get all pouty and huffy over it makes them wonder how you’d react to their praise. Or if eventually you’d give up that bratty attitude and take the degradation like a good fucking slut. They say goodnight to you at the entrance to the tavern, though it’s only the last you’ll be seeing of them, they’re going to be keeping an eye on you. Just to make sure you’re not a threat, of course. Certainly not because the Wet Wick’s curtains are thin enough to show your silhouette as you change- oh god you’re fucking yourself and they’re about to cum on the spot

Perv!Vere who greets you as you come downstairs from your room, giving you no time to ask what he’s doing slumming in this shithole as his eyes dilate in that unnatural way. He glares at you and storms outside, because you smell like everyone but him. And that’s the opposite of what it should be. He’s about to go and tell you to stop paying attention to those idiots (yes, even Ais… he’s better than Ais, don’t you know that??) when he realizes there’s another smell on you. Your own need… all relieved now, hm? He knows he could make you feel so much better than you could do for yourself, but he has no time to dwell on that as he slinks back inside and up the stairs to your room, finding your discarded underwear with your sticky, hot wetness all over it. You’re supposed to be the needy one, not him… but that doesn’t stop him from burying his face in the soft cloth and breathing you in until you’re the only scent he knows, his tail wagging furiously as he pockets the garment and heads back outside. 

Perv!Leander who meets you at the bar when you come downstairs, who loves that sleepy, exhausted look in your eyes. You look so so so pretty like that… and it’s so easy to slip you more and more drinks until he’s herding letting your curious hands run allllll over his body… even the parts that make him shiver and bite his lip. Maybe he should tie you up instead, hm? But he won’t do that. Not yet at least, not when your sweet touch is pressing against his most sensitive spot and your tipsy self is giggling at his blushy reaction. Do you know what you’re doing to him? Please keep doing it… please, he’ll be a good boy for you just keep doing it. He takes such good care of you, leading you back up to your room, helping you strip down to your undergarments, practically tucking you in. Wait, how did he get into your room? You were sure you locked it when you left. Oh well, he’s just being sweet, nothing to worry about.. 

[iwanty0uu]

The guitar fit his hands perfectly, almost as if it was fashioned for only him to play.The melody that rang from the strings struck your soul as your soft rounded eyes met his, low and seductive yet charming pair which stared back at you attentively . You knew from then that he needed to be yours. He was more like his music than you thought he would be, the sound reminded you of the familiar yearning and desire that you felt late at night when you were all alone in your comfortable apartment, tugging at the soft skin of your womanhood for something, someone. You were desperate for touch, love meant nothing now at least. After all of this time being alone and unappreciated, your delicates were forsaken after loosing trust in the one person who was meant to be the love of your life, but tonight you were ready to take a chance.

He led you to the backroom of the party, this place must’ve been his crib..who brings a guitar to a college party? His hands were covered in art, body lean yet still tall and muscular, his cologne filled your pierced nostrils as you fell onto his bed, not even knowing his name. You cursed yourself mentally for letting a stranger in so easily, you didn’t even know his name yet here he was, pretty plush lips gnawing at your beck, leaving dark purple marks on your brown skin, massaging the fat of your thighs as he slowly listed your dress revealing the wine red colored thong that was almost soaked. His fingers curved around them as they were moved to the side revealing the soft shimmer of your slick. His fingers slowly entered while you rolled your hips, they scissored inside of you as your soft plushy walls gripped him as if his fingers were more… The once perfect lip combo that was applied before the party was ruined as he begged you for your orgasm. You desired to call his name so badly but there was none to put to the handsome face in-front of you.. So instead, you observed every mark and dimple you saw, trying your best to keep your eyes open as you were overstimulated with pleasure, puffy lips open drawing deep but staggered breathes as he edged you, pleading to hear the way he made you feel. His lash line was full, his teeth were plated with gold and gems in every color, hair low but still neat, the dark made it hard to see if it was pulled back into a bun or if it was incredibly short, his fingers made you forget. As he pumped them inside of you for the last time , your lips met his, placing butterfly kisses all over his face, whispering sweet coo’s and “thank you” over and over again as you felt yourself begging undone like an untied ribbon. He watched as your juices squirted into the palm of his hand “ Riiiiiggghhtttt there mama, you’re too sweet beautiful. ” His smile almost made you cum again - it made you realize that maybe all you were looking for was right inside of you… ~♡︎

i feel like this isn’t the best but i’ll get in my groove again, i hoped you liked this n i missed you guys :) ~ 𝓵𝓮𝓵𝓮 <3

[starskq]

SWEETHEART / C.J

Pairing ◊ mafia!sub!reader x mafia!dom!jongho (ft. yunho, wooyoung and hongjoong)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, fluff at the end, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), talk about guns and killing, fingering, big dick!jongho, mention of alcohol, degrading, praising (use of good girl), oral (m. receiving), lots of dirty talk, some angst, jongho is a tease

Word count ◊ 6,5k

Summary ◊ you and jongho hated each other's guts, more you hated his guts and he loved to annoy you. unfortunately, you were part of the same gang so when your boss, kim hongjoong, paired you for a mission, you didn't really had time to interact with him

a/n: enjoy! (not proofread)

In the dimly lit backroom of a nondescript bar, the air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and the hum of muted conversation. The room was a sanctuary, far from prying eyes and ears, where only the most trusted members of Kim Hongjoong's mafia organization were allowed. The flickering light of a single hanging bulb cast shadows across the walls.

Kim Hongjoong, the undisputed mafia boss, sat behind a battered oak desk, his presence commanding the room. His sharp eyes, glinting with a mixture of intelligence and danger, scanned the space. He wore a tailored suit, a stark contrast to the rough surroundings, and his fingers tapped rhythmically on the desktop, betraying a restless energy.

You sat across from him, comfortably perched on an old leather chair, your sniper rifle resting against the side. You were known as the organization's best sniper and assassin, never missing a target, your skill unmatched. Beside you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, was Choi Jongho. His arms were crossed, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. He was one of the top operatives, and his reputation for strength and precision was well-earned. Despite his skills, you hated his guts.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, drawing your attention. "Alright, listen up. We've got a serious situation on our hands."

You straightened, eyes narrowing. "What's going on, Hongjoong?"

"A rival gang, led by Park Jihoon, is making moves on our city," Hongjoong explained, sliding a folder across the desk towards you. "He's planning something big, and we need to take him out before he gets any stronger."

You picked up the folder and began to flip through the pages, your brow furrowing as you absorbed the details. "And you need me and Choi here to handle this?’’ You didn’t even look at him, but you heard him scoff at the nickname. 

"Exactly," Hongjoong replied, his tone brooking no argument. "You’re the best sniper we have, and Jongho is one of our top operatives. I need both of you on this."

Jongho chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make sure you don't screw this up."

You shot him a withering glare. "Watch it, Choi. I don't need you getting in my way."

Hongjoong slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the small room. "Enough! This isn't a game. You two need to put aside your differences for this mission. It’s too important to let your petty bickering interfere."

You exchanged a tense look with Jongho, both of you understanding the gravity of the situation. The room fell silent, the weight of Hongjoong's words sinking in.

"Yunho and Wooyoung are already setting up on their end," Hongjoong continued, his voice calm but firm. "They'll handle the tech and provide support. You two will be the muscle on the ground."

You nodded, the initial shock of being paired with Jongho starting to fade. "What's the plan?"

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Yunho has pinpointed Jihoon's location. He's holed up in a heavily guarded warehouse on the edge of town. Wooyoung will hack into their security system and create a blind spot for you to enter."

Jongho pushed off the wall, moving to stand beside you, looking over your shoulder at the folder. "And once we’re in?"

"Once you're in," Hongjoong said, his eyes locking onto yours, "you need to move quickly and take Jihoon out. Retrieve any data he has on our operations and get out. Simple as that."

"Simple, huh?" you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. "Got it."

Jongho nudged you with his elbow, a cocky grin on his face. "See? We can do this, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Don't call me that, Choi. And try not to get yourself killed."

Hongjoong watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Just get it done. And remember, this isn't just about taking out Jihoon. It's about sending a message to anyone who thinks they can cross us."

You and Jongho both nodded, understanding the unspoken threat in Hongjoong's words. This mission was more than just a hit; it was a declaration of power.

The sun had set, casting a cloak of darkness over the city. You arrived at the nondescript bar, your usual base of operations. The neon sign flickered weakly, casting an eerie glow over the entrance. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of smoke and whiskey greeted you, mingling with the low hum of conversation.

In the backroom, Yunho and Wooyoung were already setting up their equipment. The dim light from the single hanging bulb illuminated their faces, casting sharp shadows that accentuated their focus. Yunho, with his tousled hair and easy grin, was typing furiously on his laptop, while Wooyoung was adjusting to the surveillance monitors, a smirk playing on his lips.

You walked in, your presence immediately drawing Yunho's attention. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite sniper," he teased, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. "You ready to kick some ass tonight?"

You grinned, the familiar banter lightening the tension you felt in your chest due to the anxiety and adrenaline kicking in. "Always, Yunho. Just keep those pretty little eyes of yours on the screens."

He laughed, a sound that always made you feel a little more at ease. "You know me, I’ll never let my eyes off of you," he said.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, get a room, you two. We’ve got a mission to focus on."

You winked at Yunho before turning your attention to Wooyoung. "Jealous, Woo? Don’t worry; there’s enough of me to go around."

Wooyoung snorted. "Please, I’ve seen enough of you to last a lifetime. Let’s just get this show on the road."

The door creaked open, and Jongho walked in, his expression darkening as he saw you and Yunho standing close together. His eyes flicked to Yunho’s hand, which was resting casually on your waist, and his jaw tightened.

"Are we here to flirt or to get the job done?" Jongho snapped, his annoyance evident.

You sighed, stepping away from Yunho. "Relax, Choi. We’re just getting ready."

Jongho’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention to the table where the weapons were laid out. "We need to go over the plan one last time."

Yunho shrugged, his demeanor remaining cheerful despite Jongho’s irritation. "Sure thing, bossy. Wooyoung and I will handle the security feeds and create a blind spot for your entry. You two just need to make sure you get in and out without getting killed."

Jongho grunted in acknowledgment, picking up his handgun and checking the magazine. "Just make sure you do your part."

Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. "Don’t worry, Jongho. We’ve got this covered. Just try not to let your bickering get in the way, hmm?’’

Jongho’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he kept his focus on the task at hand. "Let’s just get this over with."

You glanced at Yunho, giving him a reassuring smile. "We’ll be fine. You know I’ve got this."

He returned the smile, his eyes softening. "I know you do. Just be careful, gorgeous, okay?"

"Always," you replied, grabbing your sniper rifle and slinging it over your shoulder, before taking your gun and slide it in your holder. 

Jongho was already heading for the door, his impatience clear. ‘’Hurry up. We don’t have all night."

You rolled your eyes as the four of you exited the bar, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. The city streets were quiet, the usual bustle of activity subdued under the cover of darkness. You moved quickly and silently, sticking to the shadows as you made your way to the warehouse district.

As you approached the target location, Yunho and Wooyoung split off, heading to their positions to hack into the security system. You and Jongho continued forward, the tension between you palpable.

"You know," Jongho said quietly, breaking the silence, "this isn’t a game. We need to be focused."

You glanced at him, your eyes hard. "I’m always focused when it matters. Just do your part, Choi, and we’ll be fine."

He didn’t respond, but you could see the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth. Despite your differences, you both knew the mission came first.

You reached the edge of the warehouse property, taking cover behind a stack of crates. Jongho checked his watch, then his earpiece crackled to life with Wooyoung’s voice.

"Blind spot is up. You’re clear to move in. Good luck."

Jongho nodded, signaling for you to follow. You moved together, slipping through the gate and into the shadows of the warehouse. The sound of distant machinery hummed in the background, masking your footsteps.

Inside, the warehouse was a labyrinth of crates and machinery, dimly lit by overhead lights. You could see the guards patrolling in pairs, their movements precise and disciplined.

Jongho took the lead, his body tense but controlled, every step calculated. He was an expert in close combat, his movements fluid and precise. You followed closely, your rifle ready to eliminate any threat from a distance. Despite the mission’s gravity, the tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface.

You reached a corner, and Jongho held up a hand, signaling you to stop. He peeked around the edge, spotting two guards patrolling the next corridor. He glanced back at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Think you can take them without missing, sweetheart?” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that formed. “Watch and learn, Choi.”

You positioned yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your aim. In a swift, fluid motion, you fired two shots in quick succession. Both guards dropped to the ground, silent and lifeless. You never missed a target.

Jongho shook his head, a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression. “Show-off.”

You smirked, moving past him. “Just doing my job.”

As you continued through the warehouse, the number of guards increased. Jongho took out a pair of guys with a flurry of punches and swift kicks, his movements precise. You covered him, taking down anyone who got too close, your bullets finding their marks with accuracy.

At one point, Jongho tackled a guard, slamming him against a crate. You watched, momentarily distracted by the raw power and grace in his movements. He caught your eye, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, breathless but confident.

You quickly refocused, shaking off the distraction and scoffing at his remark. “Just making sure you don’t get yourself killed, dumbass.”

A group of guards appeared from a side corridor, and you immediately raised your rifle, picking them off one by one. Each shot was perfect, dropping the men before they could even raise their weapons. Jongho moved in tandem with you, taking down the stragglers with brutal efficiency.

“You know,” Jongho said between breaths, “there’s something pretty hot about a woman who never misses her target.”

You snorted, but you couldn’t deny the flush of heat that spread through you. “Focus, Choi. We’re not out of this yet.”

He grinned, wiping a bit of blood from his knuckles. “Yeah yeah, details.”

As you and Jongho approached what you believed to be Park Jihoon’s office, the hallway was eerily quiet. Too quiet. The usual buzz of activity in the warehouse seemed muted, and a sense of unease settled over you.

“This feels way too easy,” you muttered, glancing at Jongho. “Something’s not right.”

Jongho shrugged, his grip tightening on his gun. “Maybe they’re just scared of us.”

You shot him a skeptical look but nodded. “Maybe.”

You reached the heavy double doors, and with a shared nod, you both burst inside, guns drawn. The room was large and cold, the air almost sterile. But it was empty. Completely empty. No guards, no Jihoon, nothing but bare walls and a desk.

“What the hell?” you said, lowering your gun slightly. “Where is everyone?”

Jongho moved further into the room, eyes scanning every corner. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Before either of you could react, the doors slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud. You spun around, rushing to the doors. They were locked tight. You tried the handle, pushing and pulling, but it didn’t budge.

“Fuck!” you cursed, pounding on the door. “We’re locked in.”

Jongho joined you, throwing his weight against the door. “Great. Just great. This is a trap.”

You glared at him, frustration boiling over. “You think?”

Jongho’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t start with me. You were the one who said it was too easy.”

“Yeah, and you dismissed it!” you shot back. “Now look where we are.”

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with Yunho, you would have noticed something was off with the plan earlier.”

You bristled at his words, stepping closer to him. “Excuse me? My focus was on the mission, unlike you, who was too busy showing off.”

“Showing off?” Jongho’s voice rose, his frustration mirroring yours. “I was doing my job. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing the futility of arguing in your current situation. With a huff, you pulled out your phone and called Yunho.

“Yunho, we’re stuck,” you said as soon as he picked up. “The room’s empty, and the doors are locked. We need help.”

Yunho’s voice crackled through the earpiece, concern evident. “What? How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, casting a glance at Jongho, who was pacing like a caged animal. “We walked in, the doors shut behind us, and now we’re locked in.”

“Hang on,” Yunho said. “Let me check the security feeds.”

There was a pause, and you could hear the rapid clicking of keys in the background. Jongho stopped pacing, his eyes fixed on you as he waited for Yunho’s response.

“Alright,” Yunho said after a moment. “It looks like you walked into a decoy room. Jihoon set it up to trap anyone who got too close.”

“Great,” Jongho muttered under his breath. “Now what?”

“I’ve got Wooyoung working on the locks,” Yunho continued. “But it might take a little while.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. “Thanks, yuyu. Just hurry.”

“We will,” Yunho promised. “And hey, don’t kill each other in the meantime.”

You chuckled despite the situation. “No promises.”

As you ended the call with Yunho, the cold, empty room seemed to close in on you. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, casting a glance at Jongho. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“So, sweetheart,” he drawled, using the pet name he knew you hated, “how’s your boyfriend Yunho going to save us this time?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation flaring up. “He’s working on the locks. And for the last time, he’s not my boyfriend, Choi.”

Jongho pushed off the wall, sauntering closer to you. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you two flirt. But don’t worry, I’m not jealous.”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted, refusing to back down as he invaded your personal space. “You’re just annoyed that I’m close to someone who’s not you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly sexy. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” His voice dropped a notch, his eyes darkening with something that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way too fun to mess with.”

You glared at him, your pulse quickening despite your annoyance. “You know, if you spent half as much time focusing on the mission as you do trying to piss me off, we might actually get things done around here.”

Jongho moved even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “And if you weren’t so damn cute when you’re angry, I might actually take you seriously.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his nearness. “Back off, Choi. This isn’t the time.”

His hand brushed against your cheek, light, and teasing. “Why not? We’re stuck here for a while. Might as well make the most of it, don’t you think?”

You pushed his hand away and crossed your arms over your chest, but you could still feel the contact of his hand on your skin. “Cut it out. This isn’t a game.”

He leaned in, his face dangerously close to yours as you looked away. You could feel his breath on your cheek. “Who said I’m playing?”

His fingers grabbed your chin, making you turn your face to look at him. His eyes were intense, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that made your breath catch and you panties soaked. “What do you want?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back to your eyes. “Maybe I just want to see how long you can keep pretending you don’t feel this too.”

You felt your resolve wavering, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “Feel what?”

He smirked, his hand coming up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “This,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “The way your heart races when I get close. The way you can’t help but react when I touch you.”

You shivered, cursing yourself for the way your body betrayed you. “You’re imagining things.”

His thumb brushed your lower lip, tugging it just a little, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Am I?”

Before you could answer, the door lock clicked, and the door creaked open. You both stepped back, the moment shattered as Wooyoung poked his head in, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Miss me?” he quipped.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Took you long enough.”

Jongho chuckled, the tension in his body easing. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get out of here.”

As you stepped out of the trap and back into the hallway, the charged atmosphere between you and Jongho lingered.

—————————

The job was finally done. Park Jihoon had been taken down successfully, and you and the rest of the team were back at the bar, celebrating your victory. The tension from the mission had melted away, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and the buzz of alcohol. The bar was alive with laughter and chatter, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of the warehouse you had just escaped.

You sat at a table with Yunho, who was recounting a particularly funny story about a past mission. You leaned in, laughing at his animated gestures and witty remarks. Yunho always had a way of making you feel at ease.

Jongho watched from across the room, his jaw tight as he observed your interaction with Yunho. He nursed his drink, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and something else, something more primal. He had been watching you all night, his earlier conversation with you in the warehouse still lingering in his mind.

Yunho stood up, excusing himself to grab another drink from the bar. You nodded, smiling as he walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jongho seized the opportunity. He slid into Yunho’s vacant seat, his presence immediately commanding your attention.

“Having fun?” Jongho asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your drink. “What’s it to you, Choi?”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Maybe I want to finish our conversation from earlier.”

You felt a thrill of excitement mixed with the buzz of the alcohol. “Oh? And what conversation was that?”

He smirked, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your skin tingled where he touched you. “Still with the pet names, huh?”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You like it when I call you that. Admit it.”

You shivered, your body responding to his nearness despite your best efforts to remain indifferent. “In your dreams, Choi.”

He chuckled, his hand moving to lightly trace the line of your jaw. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. It’s not just in my dreams.”

You turned your head, your lips dangerously close to his. “You’re awfully confident, you know?”

His eyes darkened, the space between you crackling with tension. “Why shouldn’t I be? You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

You felt a surge of defiance mixed with desire. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move first.”

He grinned, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips. “Is that so?”

Before you could respond, Yunho returned with a tray of drinks. Jongho reluctantly pulled back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Everything alright here?” Yunho asked, glancing between the two of you.

“Perfect,” you replied, your voice a bit breathless.

Yunho placed the drinks on the table, his brow furrowing slightly. “Well, if you say so.”

Jongho stood up, giving you one last lingering look. “This isn’t over, sweetheart.” He turned and walked away, leaving you with a racing heart and a head full of conflicting emotions.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, you found yourself getting pretty tipsy. Yunho had moved on to entertain another group, leaving you alone at the table, enjoying the music. Jongho saw his chance and returned, sitting down beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice a bit huskier now.

You looked at him, your inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. “Maybe I am.”

He smiled, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re tipsy.”

You felt a flush spread across your cheeks, a mix of irritation and excitement. “And you’re still a pain in my ass.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing your ear. “But you like it.”

You turned your head, your lips almost touching his one again. “Maybe I do.”

His hand slid higher on your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

You smirked, your hand moving to rest on his chest. “Maybe I like the heat, Jongho.”

At the sound of his name in your sultry, sensual voice, he lost control. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the overwhelming need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal intensity. The bickering and tension of the past seemed to melt away, replaced by a raw, undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore any longer. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, your bodies pressed tightly together in the middle of the bar. The noise and chaos around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you and the electric connection that sparked with every touch.

Jongho's hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your lips parted, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his fervent kiss.

Nobody in the bar seemed to care or even notice. Everyone was too drunk or high to pay attention to anything but themselves and the beat of the music. It was just you and Jongho, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Breaking the kiss only long enough to catch his breath, Jongho whispered against your lips, “Fuck, I need you. Right now.”

You nodded breathlessly, your heart pounding. “Then fucking take me.”

He didn't need any more encouragement. Jongho grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to the nearest room, his grip firm and unyielding. You followed, your anticipation growing with every step. He kicked the door open and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you with a sense of urgency.

The room was small and dimly lit, but it didn’t matter. You honestly couldn’t even focus enough on what room it was because as soon as the door was closed, Jongho’s lips were on yours again, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. You responded eagerly, your own hands exploring his muscular frame. 

“You’ve been driving me insane, you know that?” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Always teasing, always playing your fucking little games.”

You smirked, your eyes flashing with defiance. “Maybe you just can’t handle me.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Oh, I can handle you, sweetheart. Trust me.”

He kissed you again, more aggressively this time, his teeth grazing your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his chest. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees weak.

His hand moved to your throat, holding you in place as he kissed his way down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Being put in your place.”

You gasped, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending a thrill through you. “Maybe I do. But you still have to earn it.”

He laughed softly, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that.”

Jongho’s other hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. You bucked against him, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He smirked, his eyes dark with desire. He paused, his fingers brushing against your already damp underwear, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Already wet for me, sweetheart?” he mocked, his voice low and taunting. “So fucking needy.”

You only whined in response, a small pout forming on your lips, feeling him so close but not quite where you needed him. His smirk widened, his fingers slipping under the fabric to tease you directly. “Look at you, so desperate. Can’t even hold it together, can you?”

You tried to form a retort, but the words died on your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, rough and demanding. A moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you. “Just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You gasped, your hips moving involuntarily against his hand. The pleasure was overwhelming, clouding your mind and rendering you speechless. Jongho’s thumb found your clit, rubbing in circles that had you seeing stars.

“Can’t even talk back now, can you?” he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “All that attitude, and now you’re just a whining mess just from my fingers.”

You could only moan in response, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Take it. Take what I give you.”

Your body trembled, every nerve ending on fire. He fingered you roughly, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you that left you breathless and needy. You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a broken moan. Your brain couldn’t process anything but the overwhelming sensation of his fingers stretching you out deliciously.

“All it takes is a little pressure, and you’re putty in my hands.” Jongho said, his tone triumphant. Normally, you would feel so angry at him for that condescending and arrogant tone, but that was the least of your worries right now. His fingers felt way too good inside you. 

You whimpered, feeling the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. He sensed it too, his movements becoming even more purposeful and intense.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice commanding. 

“Y-yes,” you stammered, barely able to form the word. “Please, Jongho.”

“That’s right,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a final, expert twist of his fingers, you shattered, your climax crashing over you with such intensity that you couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from your throat. Jongho’s name was a broken cry on your lips, your body convulsing around his hand.

He held you through it, his fingers never stopping until you were completely spent, slumping against him. When you finally came down from the high, he pulled his hand away, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“See how good you are when you listen?” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face. “So much better.” he murmured, then brought his fingers, still wet from your release, to your lips. “Now, clean up your mess, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted, and you took his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean as he watched, his gaze never leaving yours. The taste of yourself mingled with the lingering taste of him, the act both degrading and strangely intimate.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a rough whisper. “Always so eager to please.”

He withdrew his fingers slowly and dragged them to tugged at your lips. The sight in front of him was sending shivers down his spine. Your fucked out look, the way your chest was heaving from your earlier orgasm, the way your eyes were looking at him with that sexy gaze of yours, it was alsmot too much for him. “Fuck, I need to feel that pretty little mouth around me.’’ he continued, unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself.

You glanced down, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. He was big, bigger than you had anticipated, and a cocky smirk spread across his face at your reaction. “Surprised?” he teased, his hand tangling in your hair. “Think you can handle it, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth watering at the prospect as you nodded eagerly, already way too fucked out to care about your dignity. He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hair as he guided your head down. You positioned yourself between his legs, your hands resting on his thighs. You started with a tentative lick along his length, earning a groan from him that sent a thrill through you. Encouraged, you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

“Fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hips jerking slightly. “Just like that.”

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, your tongue working along his shaft. His size was a challenge, but you were determined to take him as deep as you could, to show him you could handle it.

“God, you look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect with my cock in your mouth.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him groan louder. You pushed further, taking him deeper until you gagged slightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He pulled back a bit, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, his words both degrading and arousing. “You love this, don’t you? Being on your knees for me.”

You nodded, unable to speak with him in your mouth. Your hands moved to his balls, massaging them gently as you continued to suck him, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips starting to thrust gently. “Take it all. I know you can.”

You relaxed your throat, allowing him to push deeper. The rhythm of his thrusts was demanding, and you did your best to keep up, your hands gripping his thighs for support. His praise and degradation only fueled your desire to please him.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So good for me. Keep going.”

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, a sign that he was close. You increased your efforts, hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder, wanting to push him over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he growled, his hips snapping forward. “Take it all, sweetheart.”

With a final thrust, he spilled into your mouth, the salty taste filling your senses. You swallowed every drop, not wanting to waste a single bit, and he groaned loudly, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

When he finally pulled out, you looked up at him, your eyes still filled with desire. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

As Jongho helped you to your feet, you were overcome with a desperate, whiny need for him. You pressed yourself against him, your voice a breathless whimper. “Jongho, please. I need you.”

He chuckled, a dark, teasing sound. “Look at you, so needy. Didn’t know you could be this desperate, sweetheart.”

You groaned, frustration and desire making your movements frantic. “Please, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

He gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You think you deserve it after being such a brat?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with desperation. “Please, I’ll be good. Just… please.”

His eyes darkened with lust, and he smirked. “Since you were so good for me before, I suppose I can give you what you want.”

Without warning, he spun you around and pushed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands roughly lifted your skirt, tearing your underwear aside. “You’re going to take everything I give you, understand?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. “Fuck, Jongho. Please.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, and without any further teasing, he thrust into you roughly, filling you completely. The suddenness of it made you cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck. “Always acting tough, but look at you now. So desperate for my cock.”

You moaned, your body arching into him. “Yes, oh god, yes. More, please.”

He set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and demanding, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like this. Such a good little slut.”

“Yes,” you sobbed, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. “I love it. I love it.”

His hand slid up your body, wrapping around your throat and pulling you back against him. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You nodded as best you could, your mind foggy with pleasure. “Only yours, Jongho. Only yours.”

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he felt you pulsing around him. His other hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. “Come for me, beautiful,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. 

The combination of his rough thrusts and his skilled fingers sent you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm ripped through you. The intensity of it left you shaking, barely able to stand.

Jongho didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he chased his own release. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise. “Taking me so well,’’ he started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your throat and nape. 

You were barely able to catch your breath before the pleasure began building again, his pace and the friction against your sensitive clit pushing you toward another orgasm. “Jongho,” you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

“That’s it,” he growled, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “One more time. Come for me again.”

The pressure built rapidly, your body responding to his command. With a final, powerful thrust, you came again, your walls clenching around him as another wave of ecstasy washed over you. The sensation pushed Jongho over the edge, and with a deep, guttural groan, he released inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

He held you there, both of you panting and trembling, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. Slowly, he released his grip on your throat and turned you around, pulling you into a possessive kiss. Your body felt like it was floating, every nerve tingling from the intensity of your shared experience. You sighed against his lips, your exhaustion mingling with contentment.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You managed a tired smile, your voice soft and teasing. “Better than okay. You really know how to wear a girl out.”

He chuckled, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re all worn out.”

You rolled your eyes, still able to muster a bit of your usual sass. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But right now, I think you need to get home and rest.”

You nodded, too tired to argue. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Jongho helped you straighten your clothes, his touch surprisingly tender given the intensity of the moments before. He guided you out of the room and through the bar, his arm securely around your waist. The noise and chaos of the celebration seemed distant, your focus entirely on the man beside you.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air was refreshing against your flushed skin. Jongho led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you with a small, endearing smile. You chuckled a bit at his gentlemaness and got into the car. He closed the door behind you and walked around to the driver’s side. 

Once he was in, he started the car and glanced over at you, his expression soft. “You really are something else, you know that?”

You turned to him, your smile tired but genuine. “So are you, Jongho. Thanks for tonight.”

He reached over and took your hand as he drove. “Anytime, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you home.”

The drive was quiet and soothing, the city lights blurring into a comforting haze. You leaned your head against the window, feeling safe and content for the first time in a long while. 

Despite the exhaustion, you couldn’t help but banter a bit more. “You know,” you said, your voice drowsy, “I still don’t like you calling me sweetheart.”

He smirked, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “Too bad. I think it suits you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guess we make a good pair.”

You laughed softly, the sound fading into a comfortable silence as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. By the time Jongho pulled up in front of your place, you were already sleeping like a little baby. 

[xhoess]

Sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanons for Logan PLEASEEEE!!! 🙌🙌🙌

YES YES YES YES YES... that's such a good idea I love you🙏🥰

Logan Howlett headcanons From A to Z

Pairing: Logan howlet ×fem bod reader

Sooo I will be writing short stories from A to Z, there will be no storyline they are just one-shots!!

Story's under the Cut

Most of these will be NSFW, I'm not gonna say 18 plus bc like read what you enjoy I started reading smut when I was way younger than 18 and I get if you do that because you're curious about that and there is nothing wrong with that :)

everything that's marked green is written the rest is not!

A - Aftercare: Logan is surprisingly tender after sex. He may seem rough around the edges, but he’s incredibly attentive post-intimacy. He’ll make sure you’re comfortable, bringing you water or wrapping you in a warm blanket. He likes to hold you close afterward, murmuring in that deep, gravelly voice of his.

B - Body Part: Logan is particularly proud of his hands. They’re strong, capable, and he knows exactly how to use them to drive you wild. He also has a thing for your neck and shoulders, often kissing, biting, and nuzzling there during foreplay.

C - Cum: Logan is intense when he finishes, often with a deep, guttural groan. He prefers to finish inside you, relishing the connection and intimacy it brings. If he finishes elsewhere, it’s usually on your stomach or chest, where he can admire the sight.

D - Dirty Secret: Logan has a voyeuristic streak. He loves watching you pleasure yourself, finding it incredibly arousing. He’s also into you wearing his clothes—nothing gets him going like seeing you in one of his old, oversized shirts.

E - Experience: Logan is very experienced, thanks to his long life. He knows exactly what he’s doing and takes pride in being able to bring you to the edge and back. He’s been with a variety of partners over the years, but with you, it’s always different—more intense, more meaningful.

F - Favorite Position: Logan loves positions where he can be close to you, like missionary or spooning. He enjoys feeling your body pressed against his and being able to kiss you deeply during the act. He also has a soft spot for doggy style, loving the way he can control the pace and depth.

G - Gentle: Logan has a gentle side layered under all that toughness. He's gentle with the people he loves, especially when they are hurt or vulnerable. His touch can be surprisingly soft and carefull.

H - Hair: Logan is rugged and naturally hairy, and he’s comfortable with that. He’s not one for meticulous grooming beyond the basics. He doesn’t mind if you’re natural too—in fact, he finds it sexy. He loves running his hands through your hair, or feeling your nails in his.

I - Intimacy: Logan craves intimacy and connection, even if he doesn’t always realize it. Sex with him is intense and passionate, but it’s also deeply emotional. He’s fully present, focusing on your pleasure and the bond between you.

J - Jack Off: Logan doesn’t masturbate often, preferring to save his energy for when he’s with you. When he does, it’s usually when he’s alone and thinking about you, imagining your touch and scent. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself but much prefers having you there.

K - Kinks: Logan has a bit of a primal side. He enjoys rough, passionate sex and isn’t opposed to a bit of light bondage or spanking if you’re into it. He likes being in control but also gets a thrill out of you taking the lead sometimes, especially if you surprise him.

L - Location: Logan is down for sex pretty much anywhere. The thrill of doing it in risky or unexpected places excites him—whether it’s in the woods, a hidden corner of the mansion, or even a quiet bar’s backroom. He’s adaptable and ready whenever you are.

M - Motivation: Logan doesn’t need much to get turned on. Just the sight of you, the sound of your voice, or a simple touch is enough. He’s especially turned on when you take charge, showing him just how much you want him. He finds confidence in a partner incredibly sexy.

N - No: Logan is very clear about boundaries. He respects your limits and expects the same in return. If something makes either of you uncomfortable, he’ll stop immediately and shift to something else. Trust and respect are paramount to him.

O - Oral: Logan is a master at giving oral. He loves taking his time, exploring every inch of you with his mouth, and making you squirm with pleasure. He’s also very vocal about how much he enjoys it. When it comes to receiving, he’s just as enthusiastic and loves watching you enjoy yourself.

P - Pace: Logan’s pace depends on the mood. He can be slow and sensual, drawing out every moment to savor the connection between you, or fast and rough when things get heated. He loves varying the pace, sometimes starting slow before gradually increasing the intensity until neither of you can hold back.

Q - Quickie: Logan is no stranger to quickies, especially with his lifestyle. He finds them thrilling, perfect for when the two of you just can’t wait. Whether it’s a stolen moment in a hidden spot or a quick session before heading out on a mission, he’s always down for it.

R - Risk: Logan enjoys the thrill of risky sex, particularly the idea of getting caught in the act. He loves the adrenaline rush it brings and how it intensifies the experience, though he’s always careful to ensure you’re both safe.

S - Stamina: Logan’s stamina is legendary, thanks to his healing factor. He can go for hours without tiring, and he’s more than capable of multiple rounds. He loves taking his time to completely wear you out, only stopping when you’re both thoroughly satisfied.

T - Toys: Logan isn’t opposed to using toys, but he prefers the hands-on approach. If you’re into it, he’ll indulge you, especially if it adds to your pleasure. He enjoys being the one to control them, loving how they can heighten your experience.

U - Unfair: Logan can be a bit of a tease. He’ll push you right to the edge, only to pull back and make you beg for more. He enjoys the control it gives him and loves driving you wild with need before finally giving you what you want.

V - Volume: Logan is vocal in bed, but it’s more about growls, grunts, and low, husky whispers. He’s not afraid to let you know how much he’s enjoying himself, and he loves hearing you moan his name in return. The more noise you make, the more it drives him on.

W - Wild: Logan can get downright wild in bed when the mood strikes. His primal instincts take over, leading to rough, passionate sessions that leave you both breathless and thoroughly satisfied. He loves the raw, unrestrained connection that comes with it.

X - NONE my apologies

Y - Yearning: Logan’s desire for you is constant and intense. Even when you’re apart, he’s often thinking about you, fantasizing about the next time he’ll have you. When you’re together, he’s completely focused on you, driven by a deep, almost overwhelming need to feel connected to you.

Z - ZZZ: After an intense session, Logan likes to hold you close as you both drift off to sleep. He doesn’t need much sleep, so he’ll often stay awake for a while, watching over you and enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. He finds peace in these moments, content to simply be with you.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own arcane or any music, just this concept idea.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

Vander Pov

"So when is our special guest arriving?" Powder asks as she wipes down some tables.

"Don't know. Apparently whoever ended up giving the message ended up running away before they got confirmation."

"Really? I know this person's got a rep, but I didn't know they're feared."

"Hm. Can't blame 'em. Apparently they stumbled on them in the middle of a fight or something like that. Guy was too scared to stay and just ran off." I explain with a chuckle as Powder leans on a booth table that has Mylo, Claggor and Ekko sitting there.

Got almost the whole gang here today. Vi and Cait waiting in the back, the boys decided to come today 'cause Mylo wanted to see who this guy is while Claggor and Ekko wanted to be here in case something goes wrong. Benzo was supposed to be here, but he has something he needs to do, though he might get here in time to see them, and Silco might or might not. He's been busy helping the Council with making Zaun better. Though that doesn't mean he didn't get a chance to poke fun yesterday about someone adopting my title. Even if they aren't really the same.

Other than them, the bar isn't too full today. It has it's usual groups coming in and out, and Gert is working her shift today serving tables.

"Oh come on guys! You really believe all the stuff about this guy?" Mylo asks with that smug smirk he usually always wears.

"Didn't you want to see them yesterday?" Claggor asks

"Yeah, so I can see they're fake. I'm telling you, it's just a bunch of rumors. It's probably multiple people acting as one guy" Mylo says as he leans back in the booth looking relaxed, though I can tell he's a little nervous.

'I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. I'd rather not have the bar be ruined, this place is important to us.'

"I think it might be true. Maybe they're some crazy guy who just likes to fight a lot. Kinda like Vi." Powder says with a smirk.

"I heard that!" Vi yells from the backroom, which makes the group laugh a little.

Ekko shakes his head as he jots down notes, but joins in on the conversation.

"Maybe it's both. Some true and some not. No doubt some details are exaggerated."

"They're always exaggerated. People love an unbelievable story, but that doesn't mean that they aren't true in a more realistic way." Powder says as she rolls her eyes.

"How much you wanna bet it's not true? I'll bet five silver" Mylo asks with a smirk. Which catches Powder's attention.

"Make it ten."

"Deal" Mylo says before shaking hands with Powder.

""Oh, no"" Both Claggor and Ekko say as they look at Mylo with pity. Which makes me chuckle.

'Mylo sucks at bets. Especially when he has that cocky look on his face.'

I watch over the bar until I notice Gert do a double take as she passes one of the windows near the front.

"Uh, hey boss! Your VIP is here." Gert says as she looks out one of the windows.

I see Powder quickly rush to the windows, and looking outside. I see her head turn to scan around only for a second before her eyes widen; then a smirk.

'She won.'

She whips around before quickly rushing back to the booth and taking a seat.

"So, Mylo, you want to pay me now or later?"

Before Reader arrives at the bar

Reader Pov

I look around at my home. This new Zaun as I walk through streets both familiar, yet unrecognizable. At first I was trying my best to keep my head down and speed walk to The Last Drop, but I quickly became distracted by, well, everything. The buildings, fresher air, clear skies, light actually being able to reach down here, and the people. God the people.

'They look happy.'

My steps slowed along the way to take in everything. I saw places that I remembered as gang hideouts now being used as homes, bakeries, small food places, a library and more.

I saw areas that used to hold junkies and be filled with thugs now being used as markets and for communities to gather. I recognized people who used to be at the lowest of society now thriving and happy. Hell I even saw a school!

'A school!? A fucking place for youth to have education! In Zaun!? Can you believe that!?'

It was so much. I could barely handle looking at it all, but I had to keep moving. I didn't want to keep Vander waiting, also...... I think I'm disturbing the peace a little bit.

I'm not oblivious. I look weird. Streets full of people being happy with family; enjoying the life of new Zaun. Then some weirdo in a gas mask comes wandering through town from the deep end. I see people giving me looks and some pointing me out while in conversations with others. Enforcers that were on patrol gave me looks of suspicion. I also think I'm being followed by some, but they're not approaching, so they must just be doing their job.

Then finally I see it in the distance, "The Last Drop."

It looks so different, but not too different that it gave off a different vibe. I stood outside just staring at the building. Remembering how it was to grow up here, and how much it changed. Now it looked more welcoming, and homely. So many memories were attached to this place. Helping Vi with her boxing, listening to Mylo try to act all cool, hanging out and talking with Claggor and helping Powder and Ekko with some tinkering; even though I wasn't the best at tinkering but I could help with the more physical labor. Not mention the occasional slap to Mylo's head when calling Powder a jinx.

'It's been too long.'

I take a few seconds before letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding and walking towards the entrance.

"Time to face the music."

Once I step in, I can hear the noise inside the bar get a little quieter, except the music, as I scan the area. First person I see is Vander, then Powder, Mylo, Claggor, and Ekko. Instantly I feel a weight drop into the pit of my stomach.

'Holy shit. They grew fast. It's one thing seeing it a dream, but here and now in person is so much more different.'

The noise around me becomes distorted and I begin panicking internally. Too focusing on the people I used to know so well. They're probably totally different now.

'I need focus. Breathe. Focus on something else.' I think, before looking away at the rest of the bar and patrons. I see the jukebox now all polished looking new. Parts of the bar that used to be damaged now fixed up. New tables and chairs. Patrons talking about their day or whatever. I take a breathe to calm myself down.

'I'm regretting this already.'

Powder Pov

"What dumpster did they crawl out of? Oof!" Mylo asks which makes Claggor elbow him in the rib.

"What are they doing?" Ekko whispers the same thing I think all of us are wondering.

This person just walked in and now is just standing at the entrance looking around.

"Getting a read on the room? They might think it's a setup by Enforcers." Claggor suggests as he keeps an eye on them.

Finally, they walk over towards the bar counter and I spot a gun sitting in a holster on one hip and...... a shovel?

"Why do they have a shovel?" I question with a confused look.

"I'm more concerned about the gun." Mylo says, as he rubs his side to soothe the pain from being elbowed, sounding slightly nervous. Which is reasonable, but seriously.

'Why a shovel?'

3rd Person

As Y/n walks over to the counter and finally face Vander for the first time in forever as he does his usual thing. Wiping down some used glasses. Y/n looks up into his eyes, which almost breaks the front she was putting up but she keeps it together.

"I was told you wanted to see me?"

"Me?" he asks, looking slightly confused. Which makes Y/n just as confused

"That's what a guy told me. Before he ran off." Y/n explains which makes Vander chuckle before sighing. Y/n panics thinking she messed up and is ready to run before Vander speaks.

"I did send the messenger, but I'm not the one who wants to talk. There's two Enforcers here. They aren't gonna arrest you; they just wanna talk."

This get's a physical reaction out of Y/n. Making them tense, which the others notice.

"About what." Y/n asks, making Powder and the boys tense with the tone Y/n was using with Vander. Not asking, more like a command.

Vander catches it, but just smiles.

"Nothing that's gonna bring you trouble. They want your help with dealing with a gang. Same one that you've been hunting down." Vander explains which makes Y/n relax.

"Why me?" Y/n asks, which makes Vander gesture to one of the stools to sit. Y/n looks at the stool and was gonna refuse, before reconsidering after looking back at Vander. She know him. She trusts him. So she sits down; unloading more tenseness to relax in her sit.

"Want a drink?" he offers as he raises a glass, but Y/n raises her hand shakes her head in refusal.

"I'm not planning on staying long."

"That's fine," he says as he sets it back down, "They want to talk to you for the same reason why you're having a hard time tracking down that gang. They've been put on the case after the gang started to try pushing into more secure parts of Zaun. They want to work with you."

"I figured, but why would they want to work with me? I'm a merc." Y/n asks which makes Vander humph.

"Listen, I know your type. You're a merc, but let's be honest. Mercs don't get a lot of work around here nowadays, and I know you're not getting paid to do your hunting. You don't got a gang either and don't go making trouble for citizens. That means you are doing this cause you want to. You and I both know you want this gang taken out just as much as the rest of Piltover does," Vander says, before leaning on the counter in front of Y/n. Even without being able to see their face behind the mask he knows they agree, "I just gotta ask that you don't cause trouble in here alright. Cause if you do then things are gonna go bad for the both of us. Alright?"

They stare at each other for a few seconds before Y/n shifts in her seat with a groan.

"Fine, but I don't know if I can help much. If I had anything good I would have dealt with them by now, but I'll do my best." Y/n says, sounding dejected while looking down at the wooden counter, before she feels a warm hand patting her shoulder and looks up at Vander's comforting smile.

"That's all I'm askin' for." he says, unknowingly making Y/n's eyes water.

Vander pulls away before nodding at Powder. Powder gets up from her seat before going to the door leading to the back.

"They're ready for you" she quickly whispers to Vi and Caitlyn before rushing back to her seat with the boys.

As Vi and Caitlyn step out from the room Y/n's eyes widen behind her mask. She doesn't have time to fully process that they're working together again, before they make their way around to where she is sitting. Caitlyn in front with Vi behind her looking on guard.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for meeting us here. My name is Caitlyn Kiramman and this is my partner Violet," Caitlyn says and gestures to Vi, "We weren't sure you were gonna show up, but I'm happy to be proved wrong." Caitlyn says, professionalism and etiquette lining her voice as she takes a seat next, but not too close, to Y/n. Vi remains standing behind her.

"Don't mention it. Not like I had a choice when it's The Hound asking for you." Y/n says with a hand wave before adjusting herself to now be facing the two enforcers, also slightly being able to see Powder and the boys behind Cait's shoulder.

"Still, thank you. Now you already know why you're here, but I wanted to discuss terms before moving onto anymore business."

"Terms?"

"Yes. In exchange for your help we're willing to grant a reward with a potential bonus depending how well things go, along with my mother being willing to negotiate with the council to pardon you of crimes on your record."

"Okay listen, I do-..... wait I have a record of charges?" Y/n asks in confusion since she doesn't remember doing anything bad. To her at least.

"Yes. Quite a large list. Mostly involving your past escapades with the gangs you have wiped out." Caitlyn explains, which makes Y/n even more confused.

"But they were gangs. They were causing all sorts of trouble down there. Isn't that fine?"

Before Caitlyn can respond, Vander let's out a laugh.

"It isn't fine no more. You can't just go around dealing justice without any actual authority." Vander explains to Y/n which makes her more confused before shaking her head of her thoughts.

"Whatever, you don't gotta do all that. I just want this gang dealt with. Gone." Y/n explains which makes both Vi and Caitlyn furrow their brows in confusion.

"Not even the pardon?"

"Knowing me I'd probably be tracking down some other idiot causing trouble right after this one."

Caitlyn sits in contemplation for a few seconds about that statement and relaxes more in her seat before responding.

"Well...... I must insist on you at least taking the reward. Not for yourself, but for the sake of the Enforcers' and Council's reputation. You would be doing them a favor." Caitlyn tries to persuade for the sake of not having the people doubt their leaders, also because she doesn't want to be the only one getting something out of this deal.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever. Let's get to business. Yesterday I finally got something that might be useful." Y/n says before pulling out and unfolding a hand drawn map of the deeper parts of the Undercity and sets it down between herself and Caitlyn.

Vi, Caitlyn and Vander scans over it. They see an obvious circle on what looks like a tunnel entrance at the outskirts and some buildings being marked with X's. Though you can also see past writing on the map which have been erased over the years.

*whistle* "You've been busy." Vander says as he looks over all the new and old writing on the map.

"Always on the clock. Anyways I've been tracking down these guys and already hit these places," Y/n says as she points at the buildings marked with X's, "but each one just led me to someone else. Luckily I finally got something yesterday. There's this old mining tunnel here," she points to the circled location, "and apparently got cleared out and has people going in and out of here. I got a quick look yesterday to confirm and it seems true. Saw a few people going in before leaving after a couple of hours." Y/n explains before Vi finally decides to join in the conversation and stepping closer between Caitlyn and Y/n.

"Are you sure it's safe? Who did you get the info from?" Vi asks, which makes Y/n freeze for a second at Vi's voice.

"Some guy named Simon. He was working for the gang and wanted to climb up the power ladder, so he ended up learning some things he shouldn't know."

"Where is he now?"

"I killed him." Y/n says plainly which makes Caitlyn's eyes widen and stare at Y/n in shock.

"He tried to stab me," Y/n explains with a shrug, though not helping with Caitlyn's expression, "This is the best thing I got. It's all I have, so unless you two got something better this is our best shot at either finding their boss or at least finding something useful. I'm hitting it tomorrow, so you're either in or out"

Caitlyn relaxes her expression and glances towards Vi who shrugs her shoulders, but still looks a little unsure about something.

*sigh* "Fine. I'll gather the enforcers needed today and meet you near the tunnel tomorrow, early in the morning. Around this area." Caitlyn says as she circles a spot on the map with her finger near the tunnel.

"Sounds good, but I don't recommend bringing a whole squad of enforcers down there. Might spook them and then they'll be ready; a small group that can move in without bringing too much attention to themselves."

"Agreed. I'd rather catch them off guard. I assume they might be prepared for you, but not being backed by enforcers."

"So looks like we-" before Y/n finishes speaking. Vi steps interrupts.

"Woah, not yet. We don't even know if we can trust you yet." Vi says which surprises Caitlyn, making it obvious that she didn't plan for this. Y/n tilts her head slightly.

"Wasn't it you two that wanted to talk to me?"

"Vi, it's fine." Caitlyn says, trying to defuse an oncoming problem, but Vi doesn't back down.

"Still. There's no way you expect us to just believe you. You could be setting us up for all we know."

"I could have said the same thing about this meeting, but I still showed up."

"Bullshit. I heard what you said to Vander. You didn't even know we wanted to meet you until Vander told you. How do we know you're not gonna set us up? You won't even show your face." Vi questions with a steeled tone.

Y/n knowing Vi won't trust her easily takes a few seconds to ponder what she should do next before standing up from her seat, carefully reach for her gun causing everyone who is watching by now to tense, and sets it on the bar. She reaches up and takes off her helmet before following up with her mask, placing them next to her gun and now with her face on full display makes eye contact with a surprised Vi. Not catching the change in Vander's expression as well.

"My name is Y/n; just Y/n. There, no mask. No bullshit. I just want this gang to be dealt with already. They've been a pain in my ass and I'm tired. So we got a deal?" Y/n asks as she takes of a glove and offers a handshake to Vi. Vi looks at Y/n's hand then back to her eyes before relaxing her shoulders.

"Fine. Just so you know, if you're lying and my Cupcake get's hurt, I'll kick your ass." Vi says which makes Caitlyn roll her eyes with a blush.

Vi grabs Y/n and shakes, before freezing her in place and her eye's looking distant. Her grip on Y/n's hand tightens, slightly hurting Y/n's hand, but Y/n looks more concerned than in pain.

"You okay?" she asks, but doesn't get a response. Vi's gaze still holding that distant look and her other hand comes up to her head.

Vi Pov

What's happening? What i-

Vi!? WhErE aRe YoU gOiNg!?

'Not again. Why now?'

Vi! YoU cAn'T lEaVe HeR! DaMn iT, liStEN tO mE! pLeASe!

'Why is it so loud now? It..... It hurts'

It wasn't just the voices this time. I see- no remember? Fire and rubble. I was.... angry? sad? both. Then a little girl grabbing my hand. Trying t-

"Vi!"

My head clears and I remember where I am. I turn and see Cait's face close to mine with a concerned look and Vander with the same expression behind the bar.

"Are you alright?" I hear another voice ask and remember our guest, now known as Y/n. My hand squeezing theirs in a vice grip, so I immediately let go and take a breath that I was holding.

"Shit! I-I'm sorry. I don't know what that was. I didn't mean to do that. I'm so sor-" I struggle to ramble out a good apology, but I'm interrupted by Bloodhound raising a hand.

"It's fine, but are you okay? What happened?" She asks me, but I'm hesitate to answer. I've been wondering what the hell that voice is for years. But this time it sounded less distorted and I remembered seeing fire and felt emotions.

'What the hell is going on?'

I hear footsteps come from behind me before feeling a tap on my arm. Powder.

"Vi, what's wrong?" Powder asks me, sounding concerned.

"Nothing. Just.... bad headache. It just spiked up in pain suddenly. No big deal." I say, trying to brush it off. Though it still lingers there in my head. I then finally catch our guest's hand and see it bruised.

"I'm sorry about your hand. I really didn't mean to hurt you." I apologize again, but she just smirks.

"Like I said, it's fine. I've had worse." she says and I hear a slight chuckle from Powder.

"Of course the infamous merc "Bloodhound" would say that." Powder says with satire. I give a quick glare to Powder and expect to see the merc in question upset. Instead I see her brows furrow.

"What?" She asks, staring at both of us in confusion and giving glances to Cait and dad.

"Bloodhound. Your little title thingy that you go by?" Powder explains sounding just as confused.

The merc blinks once then twice before dropping down into her seat. Her confused expression now mixed with shock and she turns towards dad.

"People call me "Bloodhound"?" she asks him, which makes him let out a laugh.

"Wait. You didn't know that!?" Powder asks, finding it hilarious based on her tone and expression.

"How do you not know your own merc name?" I her Ekko question behind me.

As dad seems to take over the conversation. I feel Cait squeeze my shoulder and rub it.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

No. I'm not sure, but I can't tell her that.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just need to clear my head." I say before giving her a quick kiss and heading to the backroom as I hear dad explain how he didn't choose his title either.

I catch sight of Y/n and it brings questions.

'Did she do that? Or cause it at least? Why did that happen with her? And her eyes look so familiar.'

Reader Pov

I ended up staying here a little longer than expected. After what I can only describe as the strangest handshake I've ever had and finding out that I apparently go by "Bloodhound" to people, Vander went on to talk about how he got his own title.

Powder interrogated me. She made it seem casual, but I knew she wanted information about me. She asked all the questions and I gave most of the answers. I didn't tell them where I lived or anything too personal. Mostly just avoided or dodged the questions somehow, but I think it's time I leave now.

'I've been here too long.'

"I think it's about time I left. I got other things I need to get to," I lie as I holster my gun, fold my map, put on my helmet and grab my mask before looking back to the three, "It was nice meeting you. I'll be at the meeting point tomorrow morning Ms. Kiramman."

"Just Caitlyn is fine, and thank you again for your cooperation in this case." Cait says politely and I give her a nod before heading to the doors.

Just as I open it, about to put my gas mask back on, I am face to face with my former second father figure in this world, Silco. I freeze in place with widened eyes before finally stepping out of the way.

"Sorry. My bad" I say as I hold the door open for him.

"It's fine, thank you..... Do I know you?" he asks me which quicken my heartbeat.

"U-Uhm, I don't remember ever meeting." I say, but he stands there and stares at me for a few seconds.

"Hm. Sorry, my mistake. You just remind me of someone." he says before walking into the bar, and I quickly take the chance to put on my gas mask and get the hell out of there.

That was way too close. Hopefully I just look like someone else he's met.

Ekko Pov

"Silco! You just missed her." Vander says as Silco goes up to the bar, while Powder makes her way back to our booth.

"So what do you think?" I ask Powder once she takes her seat.

"I think she's hiding something. Seemed tense most of the time."

"Really? She didn't seem too bad; even showed her face and gave her name. Definitely younger than I expected. Looks around our age."

"Hmm, I don't know. Though.... I feel like I should know her, like I've met her before."

"You too!? I thought the same thing after she took off her mask. She looks familiar."

'And I felt a strange feeling when she left, but there's no way I'm saying that.'

"Maybe you two have seen her before? In a crowd or something?" Claggor suggests which might be a possibility, but it doesn't feel right.

'There's something deeper about it,' I thought and by the unsure look on Powder's face, I can tell she feels the same. She shrugs her shoulders and stays silent seeming more interested at the wooden table, 'this is bothering her a lot.'

I recall Y/n's appearance from her hair, to the light scarring on her face and her tired baggy eyes. Then I hear it.

We'Re GoNnA mAkE a DiFfeReNcE tOgEtHeR,

'Why do I hear you?'

mOstLY YoU aNd PoWdEr,

'Why can't I remember?'

I'm NoT a NaTuRaL gEnIuS LiKe ThE tWo Of YoU.

'And why does your voice make me feel a certain way?'

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[yanderecrazysie]

hey, no hate if you deny this request, but au soulmate bakugou? Yes pls.

I don’t think I could ever deny a soulmate au XD

Part 2: here

Title: Soulmate Song

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, soulmate AU, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, swearing

Summary: Your soulmate is not exactly what you pictured.

“Soulmates come by surprise

Bell curve it seems extremes arise

And those who beat the odds will call it fate”

-From “Soulmate Song” by Carson James Argenna

You weren’t one to look at tabloids, but even you had heard the rumors of how abrasive and rude the hero Dynamight was. You’re also sure the magazines had covered his soulmate mark. You wish now that you’d read at least one article on it, because then you wouldn’t be as taken by surprise as you were now.

You sat there on the dusty floor, coughing from the smoke in the air. The store your family owns was destroyed. Hopefully the insurance would cover it. 

Despite all the rumors surrounding Dynamight, he was undeniably a superhero at this moment. He was panting, shoulders heaving a little with each breath. The villains, however, are much worse for wear, lying knocked out on overturned shelves.

Somehow, the villains are the least worrying thing on your mind. The forefront thought on your mind is the mark on Dynamight’s left shoulder blade. A grenade with three small sparks around the top… oh so fitting for him. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you were that he was your match.

That’s right. Your own back bore the same mark. Bakugou Katsuki was your soulmate.

You didn’t exactly look your best. Your hair was blown in every direction, your clothes were covered in dust and soot, and you were sure your face was just as dirtied. But this could be your only chance to approach Dynamight, considering he was a famous person.

You got to your feet, swaying unsteadily. Dynamight’s back was to you and you weren’t sure how to get his attention.

“Excuse me, Dynamight?” Your voice came out as a squeak. He didn’t turn around.

Your hand reached out hesitantly and rested on the soulmate mark. For a moment, you admired the way it looked on his light skin, the next moment, he was spinning around, asking, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You curled your hand into your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re soulmates,” you whispered.

“What was that?” Dynamight didn’t seem all that interested in what you had to say, but at least he was listening.

“We’re soulmates!” You said, a little louder than intended.

The blond hero stared at you for a moment before a derisive laugh left his lips, “Yeah, right, I’ve heard that line before.”

“No, I’m serious,” you protested, “I have a tank top underneath my shirt, I can show-”

“Listen,” Dynamight said, “My soulmate is not going to be a little wimp. If I have a soulmate, she’s going to be a strong hero who can stand by my side and fight. Not someone like you who cowers on the floor like a stupid little bug.”

It felt like the life had been sucked out of you. Your stomach plummeted and then rose with the fury consuming your body. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, “I’d rather have no soulmate than be with you.”

“See, that’s a little more fiery,” Dynamight snickered.

You spun on your heel and stormed through the employee’s only entrance. The backroom was spared from the damage the villains and explosive hero had caused. 

You held back tears. Like every little girl, you had dreamed you’d meet your soulmate and live happily ever after. Even as an adult, you’d held out hope. 

But this guy? You weren’t lying when you said you’d rather have no soulmate at all.

You’d cry later, you were sure of that. But for now, anger was your primary emotion.

How dare he be an asshole? How dare he crush your dreams of being happy?

Why had the universe paired you with someone like him? Had mother nature run out of pairs to match up?

Well, forget him. You didn’t need him. There were plenty of people who lost their soulmates, surely you’d meet one of them. Or maybe you’d meet a guy whose soulmate was a total bitch and you could bond over how much the universe sucked.

You’d be fine.

—---------------------------------------------

A month had passed since that day, and Bakugou hadn’t given it a second thought. Just another crazy fan trying to get him to date them. He didn’t even care about finding his soulmate.

At least, he didn’t think he did. Not until now.

You’re playing in the waves, splashing your friend on the mostly-empty beach. He recognizes you not just by your face, but by the symbol on your shoulder blade. 

You weren’t lying.

He approached you eagerly, feeling the pull of fate dragging him closer. Sure, you weren’t the strong pro hero he was expecting, but you were solely and uniquely his.

You gave him a dirty look upon seeing him and loudly suggested to your friend that the two of you head further down the beach.

The message was clear. He got it.

He started to walk away, then stopped. Looked back at you. Felt that surge of possessiveness shoot up his spine.

You were weak. And, for the first time, he wasn’t seeing that in disgust, but in worry. You were completely unprotected, defenseless…

You needed him. And who was he to protest?

The universe wanted you together, after all.

[bio-hazard]

Charlie's original Classrooms video makes my head spin and i had to write about it. i dont know how to do these intros help

smut !!! minors dni !!

~2k words, gn!reader, i made up backrooms to fit my needs i was Not looking up actual levels for this im sorry

warnings: dubcon (it's not unwanted but there's no verbal consent), face fucking, charlie's a bit of a freak but he's been isolated in the backrooms for god knows how long he's earned it

A dare. It was supposed to be a dare. Go into the creepy abandoned school, take photo evidence of you being there, and leave.

Except this had to be the worst dare in the history of dares, because now you were wandering for what felt like days through these strange and dangerous levels just trying to get out and go home. You weren’t hungry or thirsty, and aside from the horrific feeling that thought gave you, it wasn’t so bad. If anything it was convenient with how often you had to be running or hiding.

Slowly you had noticed patterns across all the layers that didn’t seem to add up. Slightly crumpled papers, scuffs, missing dust and discarded batteries. Someone else was here, and hopefully they were human. More importantly: Hopefully they were friendly.

The slight reprieve of the elevator didn’t last as long as you would’ve hoped, the ding signalling the start of another rat race. You stepped out and took a deep breath as the grey lined walls seemed to stretch on, thinning out as they went. At least this one wasn’t wet. It was cold and narrow and the thought of what naturally dwelled in such a space made your skin crawl. As you walked, being sure to stay as quick and quiet as possible, you saw something out of the corner of your eye cross at an intersection in the labyrinthian halls. Surely a glimpse of what horrors could kill you here wouldn’t.. well. It might kill you. But what did you really have to lose? Every time you thought you were surely dead, you woke up back in the elevator.

You followed after it as silent as possible, peeking around corners until you saw him. A person. An actual person who didn’t have strange features or some bloodthirsty intent present in his body language. If this was a trap, then damn you for falling for it but the chance at companionship was too good to lose.

He was looking in his bag and muttering, leaning against the wall as he knocked old batteries out of his camcorder and popped new ones back in. Then he looked up. His face shifted quickly from confusion to horror, and before you could react he sprinted off in the opposite direction.

“Wait!!” You shouted after him, trying not to trip or ram into any of the short stops and tight corners of the level. Every turn you could see less and less of him until something else caught both of your attention.

Skittering along the roof. You hadn’t paid attention to the roof since it seemed so far away but now you realized your shout had probably alerted whatever was on this level to your location, and the running didn’t help.

The other person seemed to know where they were going as they picked up the speed, and as you chased him you noticed the hall begin to widen out again, before the elevator door finally came into view. He dove in and hit the button before staring at you and seemingly deciding something. As the skittering grew louder and you got closer to the elevator, he grabbed you by the shirt and yanked you in.

The doors hesitated to close just enough to give you a full view of the centipede-like creature that lunged out of the ceiling.

"What the fuck."

You wondered if you had said it out loud before you realized it wasn’t your voice. It was his. You finally remembered you were alive and stood up straight, feeling hope for once since you wound up here.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, raising your hands. “I-! I’m so sorry if I scared you I just- I thought I would be alone here forever!”

He studied your face, then let his eyes trail down you. You were soaked and scraped and your clothes were worn and torn from what felt like countless deaths, but he deemed you safe enough to actually accept.

“You’re an actual human being.” He breathed, then a small laugh escaped, before turning into something manic and a little intimidating. You flinched a little and laughed along awkwardly. “You’re a fucking person! You’re an actual person!! Human flesh! I never thought I’d see it again! It’s been- God, fucking months?? I don’t know-“

Your heart broke for him and you quickly hugged him, his words dying in his throat with a pathetic whine. You stayed like that for a few minutes as he slumped against you.

“You can hug me back. This is.. Terrifying. And-“ You couldn’t finish your thought before he was wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around, practically crushing you. His face found a spot somewhere between your chest and neck that made you shiver while his fingers edged their way under your shirt. “Um-“

“Right-! Fuck, it’s been so long I almost forgot my manners!” He pulled his face away with a nervous, almost delirious chuckle, but kept his arms tightly around your waist. “I’m Charlie.”

You laughed in a polite but nervous manner before introducing yourself as well.

“I never thought I’d get to see people again.. You smell so good..” His voice was a little more than a soft whine, you almost didn’t hear him.

“Pardon..?” You squirmed in his grasp a little but it only seemed to make his grip tighten.

“Your skin is so soft.. You’re so..” He pressed his mouth to your skin as you tried to squirm away more. “Please.. Please, I need this..”

Before you could even comprehend his words, you felt him press tighter against you, like he had entirely forgotten you were a person. “It’s been so long and- and you’re just.. so soft..” He breathed against your skin as if trying to taste it without being too forward.

“Charlie- Uhm-“ You didn’t know what to say. Sure it had been a while but you had just met the guy.

He seemed to have a moment of sanity as he stopped and pulled away, flushed red.

“I- Ah-..” His voice trailed off into a whine as his thighs shifted. You could tell he was genuinely ashamed though. “Sorry.”

It wasn't like you could fault the guy. He seemed like he'd been here much longer than you had, and... Well. Even while being all roughed up from the horrific world you found yourself in, you couldn't deny you weren't a little flattered, as strange as it felt to admit that. How long had it been..?

“It’s- Fine, really. I could get how you’d get overwhelmed with suddenly seeing another person.” You felt uneasy with the way he stared at you, almost hungry. You started to find yourself hoping he also didn’t feel hunger, but figured this wasn’t the time to ask.

The elevator dinged again and you both turned to face what looked like the front entrance to a domestic house. It looked dusty and abandoned and the lights were out aside from some unseen windows letting in an eerie ambient blue lighting.

“Have you been to any of these levels before?” You whispered to him as you made sure there was nothing immediately in front of you.

“Uh- No. I haven’t seen the exact same level twice..” He whispered back as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

The level itself was mostly empty and creepy with the only threat being a slow moving ghostly figure that would survey the house. Neither of you two wanted to find out what happened if it were to see you, and covering yourself in sheets or otherwise staying out of the direct line of sight seemed to work.

You two were discussing where to go next when you realized the heavy shuffling was right around the corner. With no sheets to hide under, you opted to shove Charlie into the nearest doorway and hope for the best. It happened to be a small closet just barely big enough for both of you to fit in, pressed chest to chest. The boxes in the closet seemed to shove Charlie onto you as you slammed the door shut, catching the attention of the creature outside. With your hands pinned to the door behind you when you slammed it shut, Charlie was pressed into you by the unstable boxes with no way to

The hiding spot would’ve been just fine if he hadn’t tried to shove the boxes back, only to slice his hand on the cardboard.

“Ow, Shit-!” He hissed, scrunching his face up in the minimal lighting. “What the h-“

“Shh!” You stared at him, bewildered. It occurred to you that he hadn’t realized it was right outside but you didn’t know how to communicate that without unnecessarily speaking yourself.

“I cut myself on cardboard!” He whispered at you, upset. You had to stop him from talking but you couldn’t cover his mouth. “How the hell do you cut yourself on cardboard— mmpf-!”

His eyes widened as you smashed your lips into his, praying he took the hint to shut up. The creature outside seemed to shift after a while, losing interest. You couldn’t get caught now. As Charlie pulled away, you let out a low whine that seemed to make his resolve disappear right then and there. You could swear you tasted the desperation on his tongue as he kissed you, pressing you into the door like his life depended on it.

By the time you two pulled away to breathe, the creature had already left and probably been gone for a while. Charlie reached around you and quickly pulled the both of you out of the closet, tugging you down the hall as the boxes clattered down behind him.

Running into a bedroom he closed the door and found a chair to pry it shut. He placed his camera on an antique looking dresser then turned to you with a pleading, conflicted face.

“Charlie?-“

He walked up to you, keeping up with every step you took back. Charlie’s hands raised to your jaw and held it, eyes softening as he took in your face.

“We have to work together to get out of here, but before we can start that you need to just do one thing for me..” His voice was soft and warm, and you felt yourself flustered a little as he spoke.

“Okay..?”

His hands slid to your shoulders, quickly buckling your weight until you fell to your knees in front of him.

“Let me have this," Charlie breathed, undoing his pants. He was already hard, you could tell as much in the closet, but having him move this suddenly took you off guard.

There was a moment between you two as you swallowed and realized what he was asking for. He watched as you made no move to pull away or fight, not an ounce of resistance in your eyes. A slight smile curled onto his face.

“Charlie, is this really?—" Your question was cut off as Charlie wasted no time in forcing himself into your mouth, looking utterly intoxicated by the view.

“Please- Please just let me have this, I’ll do anything you want too I just can’t keep going without this.. God you’re so good..” He whined, petting your hair. The man at least took the time to let you adjust rather than making you choke right away. “So good for me..”

You really had to consider your options here. Sure there was plenty of horrors outside the door, ready to kill you and here he was, fucking your face while not caring if this was the time or place. But he’s also attractive, competent and actually seems to care about getting the both of you out, and … Fuck. You found this hot. You never told him to stop and honestly the thought to do so hadn't even crossed your mind. Surely that was something to figure out another time, when you were home and not in some other plane of reality on your knees, staring up at the disheveled man fucking your mouth and staring at you like you hung the moon.

The second you heard Charlie's breath pick up and you clued in that he was close, he ran his fingers through your hair and gripped it tightly, beginning to fuck your throat faster. The gasps and moans made the tears and inevitable sore throat worth it, at least.

His voice cracked as he came, holding himself as deep in your throat as he could. You didn’t have a choice but to swallow, coughing as he pulled back and caught his breath, tidying himself up. Charlie crouched down immediately after and checked you over, wiping your chin of any liquids that had dripped from your mouth.

“You look.. Wrecked.” Part of him sounded aroused while the other sounded horrified, not sure how he should feel about what he had done to you. “I’m so sorry, I really-“

You cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss, despite a till trying to catch your breath.

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him, watching his face screw up at the taste of his own cum. “I promise.”

“Did I really make you swallow that?? Jesus Christ..” He stared at you, a little concerned. You just laughed at him, wiping your lips.

After he considered that, he took his bag out and immediately handed you some water he had been holding onto.

“I’m not thirsty, you don’t need to-“

“I don’t have much else to take care of you with..” Charlie frowned, tilting his head.

You stared at him for a moment, before smiling softly.

“How about we just get out of here, then worry about aftercare? It'll be welcomed after... Everything."

That seemed to satiate him as he put his items away and stood, helping you stand up. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed your hand.

“I will, I promise. I’ll take care of you until we get out of here, and for every moment after until you’re safe.”

There was a distant bang.

“Let’s uh.. Let’s worry about getting to the next safe moment right now, though.”

“Good idea.”

[batsythoughts]

Alright, but Bruce Wayne with 'Meet Cute' and 'Tragic Love Story' combined? I personally need to get this idea off my chest, so enjoy.

Due to his strained sleep schedule and social life, Bruce would occasionally need a pick-me-up

There was this one Cafe that he enjoyed due to how strong they were able to make the coffee compared to other shops in the city

Normally he would walk in and the employees would start working on his order before he even got to the counter

One day, he was grabbing his cup from the counter when he noticed something unusual on the sleeve of the cup

Holding the cup closer to his face, he takes in the sight of a multicolor butterfly that was 'flying' across the cup sleeve

He turned to the manager with a raised brow, to which the manager looks over at one of the employees at the other end of the counter with an annoyed gaze

Bruce turns his gaze to see you standing there with a handful of sharpies in your apron pocket as you look at both men with a shrug

"I got bored."

Your manager began to give a small lecture on the fact you were getting paid to do a job and doodling wasn't apart of that job

You made a face, which Bruce found slightly amusing, to your manager with crossed arms

"I come in to prep at 3 a.m. for 6 days every week, by myself might I add. I do the work that is supposed to be divided to be done by 3 people. I have to fight you to get 15 minutes out of my hour long lunch. I'm sorry you don't like that I don't actively search for more work to do when I'm already doing more than my 10 dollar an hour pay grade. If you don't like it, fire me. But don't forget that I can sue you for sexual harassment because I'm certain you forgot that the owner put had cameras installed in the freezer to safe guard the minors who work here."

Bruce felt shocked as he glared over at the manager, who was suddenly very quiet and very flustered at your words

Before Bruce was able to tear into this poor excuse of a man, a woman in a formal suit came out of the backroom with fire in her eyes

You smiled as you look from your manager to this woman, who Bruce was assuming to be the previously mentioned owner, asking oh so sweetly if you could go to your break

Bruce watched you walk out the door with a strange curiosity blooming in his mind. Despite having never paid much attention to you beforehand, but now he was wondering what more there was to you

The next couple of weeks, Bruce found himself coming to the Cafe more often in the mornings to interact with you more and to see more of your doodles on his morning coffee cup

He was even subconsciously going to the block on his patrols to make sure you were getting into the shop alright on the days when you opened alone

Eventually, the habits were beginning to get noticed by everyone around him. Tim and Damian noticed he was a bit more cheerful in the mornings when they were taken to school. Jason realized the determination that Bruce put in at 2:57 every night on one block specifically. They were all clueless until Dick, Cass, and Stephanie started rummaging through his office and found the original cup sleeve placed in the back of one of his desk drawers

The next day when Bruce was going to be busy with a meeting with a few shareholders, Dick and Barbara came walking into the Cafe with huge grins on their faces

When they made their way to the front of the line and ordered, they excitedly asked for the barista that was drawing the cup sleeves

When they were pointed to your direction, they went over and started to explain that Bruce had found you interesting and they thought he would want to get to know you better if he could

Barbara pulled up a picture of Bruce in case you didn't quiet remember him. But you smile with a small nod saying the you remembered him from the incident with the old manager

Dick got even more excited as he asked if you would be willing to maybe, potentially, want to go out with Bruce for a date because they bet that he found you cute and was scared to get rejected

Later that day when Bruce had finally gotten home, Dick and Barbara were waiting by the door as they practically were jumping in their spots

They held out a coffee cup to Bruce, which made him feel anxious that they had found out about his small infatuation

He took the cup to see a small drawing of a ticket with a box of popcorn. He saw your name with a phone number with a a simple question. 'Movie on Tuesday?'

Bruce doesn't have time to scold or thank them before they ran off in the manor

He went to his office, closing and locking the door before taking out his phone to send you a quick message about what you might want to watch

He began to think it might have been a bad idea as he started to type that he had the wrong number when he saw a response suddenly pop up

You had confirmed the movie and time that might work with both of your schedules to go watch it

Bruce quickly double checked his schedule before confirming that it worked out for him and suggested to meet up there, he wanted you to feel like you could leave if you ever wanted to during the whole thing

As the day came closer, Bruce felt concerned for the date and if it would be best to back out and spare potential heart ache down the road

But he fought down his worries as he dressed down in casual clothing so he wouldn't be noticed

After getting a pep talk from almost every one of the Bat children, Bruce finally drove to the theater with a few minutes before the meet up time

He was slightly shocked to see you actually standing in front and waiting for him out front in your own style of formally casual clothes

He got out of the car and walked up to you with a slightly awkward confidence with his greeting. The man may have the ability to charm almost any person on a whim, but it was different this time. This time, he was genuinely interested in the person in front of him

The smile you gave Bruce when he walks up warms his heart in a way he hadn't felt in some time

He paid for the tickets and tried to pay for the snacks, but you insisted that you didn't want him to pay for the whole thing

"It's just popcorn and drinks. I've got it this time."

This time. The words had Bruce feeling hopeful for the next date even though this one wasn't even over

Getting settled into the seats, you two delve into light conversation, the occasional laugh slipping in

By the time the lights went down for the movie to start, Bruce had already considered this to be a successful date with how much he felt you two had bonded

The theater was quiet as the movie played, the screen casting a soft glow over all the faces there

Bruce had felt himself truly relaxing for the first time in so long as he sat next to you in the partially full theater

He almost jumped when he felt you suddenly lean into his side halfway through the movie

But he relax before moving his arm around your shoulders as he glanced over to see if it was alright

The small smile on your face as you leaned closer to Bruce made a small flutter to form in his stomach

When the movie came to an end, Bruce kept his arm around your shoulders as everyone walked out into the parking lot

There was small talk about thoughts on the movie before the goodbyes had to be said for the night

He was questioning himself on if a hug would be the best to do or if that would be too forward

You beat him to it as you gave him a small peck to him cheek before saying you would text him to let him know you got home safe

Bruce couldn't help but smile as he drove back to the manor. Completely forgetting about the small army of children that would interrogate him the moment the door opened

He got bombarded with different types of questions from 'did you have a good time', 'what are they like', 'are you going out again soon'

Damian mostly just listened while standing there before he asked if there was a photo of his father's potential consort. Dick says he's got one to show him later

(Bruce makes a mental note to talk to the Damian about appropriate terms to use in relationships and to get the photo Dick has)

Bruce quickly told all of them to go and get ready for patrol as he pushed his way past the entryway

All the children smiled to themselves as the began to go to the Batcave to get their gear together with the intention of getting more information later

Bruce took a moment to breath before feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Checking it to see that you had messaged him when you got home and couldn't wait until next time

"This one must be special if you smile at a message."

Bruce looked up at Alfred when he heard that comment, not even realizing he was smiling

Alfred had a soft look in his eyes as he gave a simple nod before walking away for Brice to be alone

Bruce typed a quick message in agreement of meeting up again sometime soon before putting his phone away to get ready for the night ahead

The next few months (yes, months because he wants to be cautious with this relationship), Bruce had tried to make plans at least once every week for dates

Each time the two of you spent time together, he couldn't deny the feeling that he got when being around you. You never tired to bring his money into it and never pushed for the pace to go faster over the course of the whole thing

He even asked if you could be official with each other relationship wise, though not entirely out on the public eye if you didn't feel comfortable with all the sudden attention, which you happily agreed to

He had finally asked if you would want to come to the manor one day to properly meet all the kids, who were all eager to get to meet you

You both agreed on a day and time to have dinner later that same week he suggested it

The night of the whole dinner, Bruce and the kids helped Alfred get the manor cleaned and even assisted in the cooking

They were all excitedly waiting in the living room dressed in their best clothes for the occasion as the time for you to get there getting closer

As the minutes went by, everyone starts to get anxious as there wasn't anoise coming from outside the door

The moment the hour struck, everyone was on edge for the knock on the front door to come at any moment

(If you don't

Alternative Ending

Stephanie and Barbara were trying to be hopeful by saying maybe you just had to change outfits from a last minute stain accident

Tim and Dick were saying that a family thing could have come up and maybe you were trying to get it handled before coming over

Damian had a hopeful tone as he stated that there was most likely traffic and you were just caught in the middle of it (he was really hopeful about his father finding a good partner)

Bruce gave a small smile to all of them before he decided to send you a quick text to ask if everything was alright and if you needed to reschedule for another day

Jason gave a small grunt before grabbing the remote. Turning on the TV as he said that Damian was right and the traffic news would prove it

Flipping through the channels, he finally got to the news channel. And dear God, did Jason wish he could take that decision back

Every one stared in silence as the lights flashed on the screen as they took in the sight of a terrible car crash

A reporter talked about the fact a drunk driver had blown through a 4 way stop and had hit the victim's car that was sadly just at the wrong place

The reporter had said that no name was being given about the victim so family could be informed first and make the proper medical decisions

No name had to be given though as the kid's saw the look on Bruce's face

He didn't need to be there to see that it was your car. He didn't need to get a look at the license plate to tell. He could tell just by the small little decal you had on the back window

Jason quickly turned the TV back off as they all nervously look over at Bruce as he continued to stare at the black screen

No words were said as they each moved closer to, but not touching, Bruce to show their support to him as he slowly processed the whole thing

The sound of his phone going off finally broke the fragile silence of the room. Bruce cleared his throat as he quickly picked up the phone, his hand shaking when he saw your name appear on the screen

He answered with a weak voice before he heard the woman's voice on the other line

The woman said she was your mother and slowly asked if Bruce had seen the news report. He could tell she had been crying even through the phone

She hesitated before explaining that it wasn't good and that the doctors said that after a few tests, it was declared that you were legally brain dead

Your mother chocked for a second before saying that she wanted to give Bruce a chance to say goodbye before the next steps were being taken

Bruce took a moment before saying that he would be there within the hour before hanging up the phone

He just sat there for a second as the silence blanketed the room once again

Alfred placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder before saying that he would drive to the hospital for Bruce

All the kids shared glances before getting up and going to pack away the dinner to give Bruce a minute

Bruce stood up before going to the door as Alfred followed close behind. The ride was silent as Alfred guided through the streets, intently going the long way to avoid the crash site

Bruce walked through the door before going to the reception desk to ask what room you were placed in

After getting directed to what room you were in, he saw a woman standing outside as she talked to a doctor. The woman turned her head and stopped the doctor before ushering him over

The doctor hesitantly walked away as your mother politely introduced herself before explaining the severity of the situation. That even with life support, you would probably not even survive one week with how you got hit

She said that you had talked so happily about the relationship the two of you had and believed that Bruce deserved to have his own goodbye

Bruce felt the words catch in his throat as he hesitants to ask if you would be left on life support or not

Your mom quickly explains the plan you had made for a situation like this before she glances at the room you were in. She offered to let him have the final goodbye in peace

Bruce gives a small nod as he gave her a small hug as he expressed how sorry that this had to be how they had met one another

The moment Bruce steps through the door, he feels the tears form in his eyes as he takes the sight of you laying there, basically lifeless on the bed

He walks over to the bed as his hand reaches out to touch yours

He just stands there for a minute as he stares at your face. His other hand coming up to gently brush his fingers over your cheek

He knows that there nothing he could do to potentially help make you recover. He understood this was going to be the last time that he was every going to get to lay his eyes on you

Bruce leaned down to rest his head on yours as he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes as the words finally seemed to come to him:

"I am so glad that I got to know you for the time that I did. Best thing you ever did for me was drawing on the first coffee sleeve. I'm gonna miss you and I... I love you."

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away. A sad smile gracing his face before walking back out of the room

He wrote his number and address on a small card before telling her that she could come to him if she needed any help

She had a weak smiled as she thanked him before giving him another small hug as she says to make him aware of all the things regarding the funeral and the burial spot

The ride back is just as quiet as the drive to the hospital. Alfred only giving a small glance towards Bruce as they drove up the driveway

Bruce walked through the door to find Dick standing there with a solemn look in his eyes. He tells Bruce that he can take the night to process everything and that he will handle the patrol

Bruce gives a weak nod as he walks through the manor and to his room so he could hopefully get some form of rest

No one had went to check on him to give him a chance to be alone with his thoughts for the night

Bruce just laid on the bed as he replayed all the moments that he had with you. A sad chuckle passing his lip before he decided to get some sleep

The next couple of weeks involved Bruce going to the funeral and going to the cemetery to put a small keepsake there to leave a part of himself there at all times with you

One day when he got back from work, Bruce was about to go to his office to sort out a few case files that he would be needing

There was a package on the desk the moment that he had walked in. He was concerned about what might potentially be in it before he saw your mother's name as the return address

Bruce carefully opened the package to see a picture frame that was carefully wrapped in some bubble wrap

He took out the frame and removed the bubble wrap to find a picture of you smiling at the camera as you jokingly point to Bruce who was behind you in the photo talking to someone off camera

Bruce remembered the day that photo was taken. It was your fourth date at the park and he was buying a snack from one of the vendors

He didn't know you had even taken any pictures that day. He stared at it for a moment before noticing a small note in the box the photo came in

He picked it up to see a small note from your mom

'I asked for a picture of the man that was making my child so happy. This was the one I was sent as I was told that he could be the one. I thought you would want it.'

Bruce stared at card for a second before a grin ghosted his lips. Setting the photo on the corner of the desk, he tucked the card in the corner

Sitting down in his chair, Bruce just admire it for a moment as he took a deep breath. Staring for a moment before getting the files that he needed together

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 24

Part 23

Eddie liked to keep watch sometimes, as the sun went down. He’d never follow Steve into town again. He didn’t deserve that. But he would watch the gate to make sure he returned safely. Eddie didn’t know what there was that could be unsafe in the town below but he couldn’t rest at night until Steve was back. But Steve got back later and later, sometimes hours past the time he was supposed to.

Nancy, graciously didn’t say anything but Eddie knew it put her on edge. He figured Steve was just savoring time with whatever lover he had chosen that day. Eddie had watched the gate while the sun was going down. And then he waited for the report that Steve had arrived. The guards changed shifts but the announcement never came. Eddie didn’t even notice the passing of the night until the sun rose.

He thought maybe he had missed Steve. But he flew over to his room and Steve’s bed was empty. After confirming with the guards who oversaw most of the night shift he was sure of it. Something had happened to Steve, but what?

“I’d appreciate no ‘I told you so’s’”, he said to Nancy over breakfast that morning. “At least not until we know why he’s missing.”

“You know I don’t say ‘I told you so’”, Nancy rolled her eyes. 

“Yes you do, just like that, with your eyes.” Eddie didn’t stay to eat. His worry depleted most of his appetite. And he wanted to find Steve before the children noticed his absence. He decided on the form of a black cat. A creature that could get into many places without drawing too much attention. If his citizens knew the king was searching for someone, it could cause a panic. If Steve was being held somewhere, it would make his captors more cautious. It could also expose Steve’s identity to those that might not know it yet.

Eddie’s first lead was the tavern he’d first seen Steve enter. Since it was early in the morning, it was empty except for one man wiping down the tables. There wasn’t a clue here. His second lead was the Carver’s. That was the last person in town Eddie knew Steve was connected to. So he went over to the butcher’s and hopped onto a window sill out front. The matriarch was wrapping selections for a customer. He could just barely make out a man that was chopping meat in a backroom. But Eddie didn’t see Jason nor Steve. He went around the back and tried not to think of the intimate way he caught them last time. 

“What’s all this talk about you leaving now? I thought we decided last night”, Jason said, leaning against a barrel.

“I really have to go”, Steve said. 

“Go where? You said yourself, you’re a transient. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be. So be here.”

“I have to at least go back to the inn. I have a few things there”, Steve argued.

“Meager possessions of a traveler”, Jason waved off. “I know if I let you out of my sight, you’ll disappear like you always do. And I won’t let you.” He grabbed Steve’s wrist. “You’re mine now. You don’t need to go out at night, searching anymore.”

“You don’t even know me. Not all of me.”

“I know your name. I know how you look cumming on my dick. And I know you’ll make a great Carver.”

Steve took a step back and wrenched his hand away. “Is this your proposal?”

“A proposal implies that you might say ‘no’. And I know you won’t. I’m promising you a home and a livelihood. Who else is going to take a stranger and make an honest man out of him like this?”

Steve looked down at his feet and Eddie wondered what he was thinking right now. All Eddie knew was that Jason was skipping several steps between a first meeting and a proper proposal. He could admit that he was jealous of the man but it went beyond that now. His fur bristled at the way he talked to Steve. Jason closed the distance between then and grabbed both of Steve’s hands, a little more gentle this time.

“If there’s someone else out there willing to take you into their home, tell me their name, I’ll turn you out now.” His voice was soft but his words were callous. “Make your choice Steve, me or the streets.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak when he heard a low growl of a cat on edge. He looked down and saw one prowling towards them. Maybe it was the intensity of their gaze, maybe it was just a feeling, but Steve knew it was Eddie. Jason followed his eyes and turned on the cat.

“Damn mangy strays”, he reared his foot to kick it and Steve picked up the cat in a flash. 

“You brute!”

“It’s just an alley cat”, Jason reasoned. “They’re used to that sort of thing. They sniff around here for our meat all the time.”

Steve frowned, still holding the cat to his chest. “I’ll put them away somewhere.”

Eddie was still glaring at Jason, dumbfounded until he was out of sight. Steve looked around for a good place to leave the cat, just in case they were just that, a cat and found a nice sizable alleyway a few buildings down. He set the cat down and was only partially surprised when it transformed into Eddie.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me anymore.”

“You missed curfew”, Eddie shot back. 

Steve wrapped his arms around himself. “I…I didn’t mean to. I just lost track of time and I-”

“Or was Carver keeping you hostage?”

“You’re one to talk about hostages. Where do you get off, acting like you have the high ground?”

“I gave you your freedom”, Eddie argued.

“Only after you realized I was worth nothing.”

“Does Jason make you feel like you’re worth something? If so, he’s got an interesting way of showing it.”

Steve didn’t have a response to that at first. He didn’t even mean to bring up the fact Eddie had held him captive. Somewhere along the way he had forgiven him for that. This wasn’t about that anymore. 

“Jason is…rough around the edges sometimes. But he hasn’t said anything that’s untrue.”

Eddie’s eyes got wide. “That’s funny because I didn’t hear a single iota of truth from him.”

“I’m a transient. I have no home”, Steve said. It was originally just a story to come up with to explain why they couldn’t go back to his place but it wasn’t a falsehood. What Steve had once called home was miles away and he was welcome there no longer.

“I know you don’t consider it home, but my castle-”

“Is your castle”, Steve kept his voice low as someone walked by the alley. “It’s not mine. I know I’m allowed to roam but I have no role there. No position, station, or purpose. Whatever this situation is, it couldn’t last forever.”

“So your plan was to go and wed Carver? After…what? A couple of weeks? At most?” Eddie threw his hands up and paced to the back of the alley. “My goodness, if I knew that was all it took…” 

There was a pause as something hung in the air between them. Eddie still had his back to Steve and wasn’t brave enough to turn around yet.

“Jason is welcoming me into his home. I don’t know anything about butchering but I can learn from him. We can build a life together. And when he introduces me to his family-”

Eddie whirled back to face him, hair whipping around. “He hasn’t formally introduced you yet?! And he considers you engaged? You really have lost your royal pride.”

Steve’s arms crossed and his shoulders went up in defense. “I’m not a prince anymore. That part has been made very clear. And it’s not as though I have a line of suitable prospects out the door.”

“This isn’t even about how suitable Jason Carver may or not be. This is an affront to you. Everyone, not just royalty, deserves proper courtships. He lays with you a few times and he thinks he’s completed his gentlemanly duties? You’re not lacking in admirers, little prince.”

“Those admirers are just fine for a night. But none of them have sought more. And I cannot ask them for more.” Steve leaned against a wall, fight draining from him. “Jason is the only one who wants me. And I can’t live with you forever.”

“Jason wants to own you”, Eddie corrected. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “That’s better than not being wanted at all.” He was tired of being seen as trash to be thrown away or as an unimportant bauble to decorate a home. Maybe things wouldn’t be great with Jason but it would be something. His parents didn’t want him and that hurt when he finally internalized it. But now he had someone who actually saw a life with him. What did it matter if Jason hadn’t gone through all the usual steps?

Eddie looked Steve up and down, took in his tense stance despite leaning. He thought about the prince, floating in a sea of uncertainty regarding his future, his relationships. 

“Steve!”, Jason’s voice could be heard down the street.

The way that Steve jolted up solidified Eddie’s decision. He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. Steve’s eyes wavered. Did he answer Jason’s call or…

“If Jason wants you, and you want him, then I won’t get in the way. All I ask is that you think it over for one day. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

After a moment, Steve nodded. Wordlessly, Eddie gathered him in his arms and wings sprouted from his back. Anyone who looked up would have recognized their king, but not the person he was carrying. Eddie flew right to Steve’s room, opening the window and dropping him off. He figured he didn’t want to be bombarded with questions from the kids right now. Not when he had so much thinking to do.

Eddie himself had quite a bit of work to complete and holed up in his study for the rest of the day. He had visitors, of course. Nancy, Jeff, Robin, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, all either asking things of him, or having things to report. He never let himself get distracted for too long though. What he was working on had to be just perfect.

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

Steve didn’t feel like leaving his room for the rest of the day and somehow that was communicated because breakfast was sent to his room, followed by lunch, and then dinner. Tomorrow he had to go back to the Carver’s and officially accepted Jason’s proposal. True, it wasn’t entirely romantic, but what else did he have?

He went to sleep, trying to see his future through a more rosy vision. He reminded himself that not too long ago he was sleeping among rats and waste in a dungeon. Jason was certainly a step up from that. 

The morning of his new life came and he prepared to set out to meet Jason. He was likely to be upset that Steve disappeared exactly as he had said he would, but he could be placated with Steve’s acceptance of his proposal, the prince was sure of it. But just as he opened his door, he just barely missed stepping on a tray that was set outside his door. He knelt down. There was an envelope with a black rose accompanying it. Steve looked around, like there’d be a clue as to who left it, but the hall was empty and he hadn’t heard anyone earlier.

He brought it into his room and sat down at the edge of the bed. Carefully, he opened up the letter. 

To the Prince who has found himself a guest in my home,

Despite what you think, you are worthy of a legitimate courtship. You are kind. You are exceedingly helpful, resourceful, and considerate. You are beautiful, in both body and spirit. I would consider myself uncommonly honored if you were to consider me a viable suitor. Please do not misunderstand the shortness of the letter as a lackadaisical approach to romance. I found through many drafts before this one that I could write pages dedicated to you. But I won’t trouble you with them if my attentions are unwanted. 

However if you receive this and find yourself charmed, then I will be unable to refrain from telling you how lovely I think you are. I will never claim to own you, Steven, but I aim to make you mine. 

Enchantedly yours, 

King Edward

Part 25

And with that, their romances BEGINS begins Also Jason has no idea Steve just saved him from getting his whole leg chomped off

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[wri0thesley]

Diluc and L, pretty please!

L - Lily (purity): “I shouldn’t taint you like this. Not when you’re so pure.”

cw: injury, dub-con, captive reader

You're trembling. Diluc is blood-stained, his jaw set stubbornly, his clothes a mess of blood and charred carbon and mud and Archon-knows what else. You shouldn't have done this, you think, as his hand grasps your chin in his, as his fingers sink into the soft flesh of your cheek. He takes a slow, shuddering breath.

"You want to clean me up?" He asks you again, and you curse yourself for your own stupidity. He is your captor, not your lover. It can be hard to remember, wrapped in luxury, brought breakfast in bed by maids and dressed in pretty morning gowns of fabric you could never have afforded before Diluc's attentions - those days when Diluc is not here, and you can imagine Dawn Winery is yours.

But you are, at the heart of it, his captive.

When he is at home, he broods through the house; tells you shortly that you're not to leave this room, you're not to go onto the balcony without anyone with you, you're not to eat that, or say this, or forget your manners again. He sleeps beside you, arms like vices around your waist.

But he has not been home for two weeks, and when you had seen him at the door to your shared chambers, his face bruised and his lip swollen and bloody and his entire body bowed with exhaustion . . . you had forgotten all of it in a moment of weakness, and the memory of who you were before Diluc had made this your life had come rushing to the forefront.

You had seen to plenty of men and women injured like this, when you were in the employ of the Church of Favonius, running their clinics. You had patched up children's knees and sewn shut the wounds of the Knights with the same sweet smile and gentle disposition. You had learnt what to say to men like Diluc, who gritted their teeth and insisted it did not hurt and they did not need your assistance even as they fell to their knees on the marble floor of the cathedral and you had to ask some of the sisters to help carry them into the infirmary room.

You could backtrack. Slink back into bed, shake your head, say something about the mess and the scent of the blood--

But you couldn't really, could you? Diluc had - at least, he says - fallen in love with you in those little backroom infirmaries, elbow deep in blood and medicines and bandages. He had looked at your soft smile and heard your gentle voice and, he says, thought you far too sweet and precious a thing to languish there, at the mercy of any rogue who could walk into the Cathedral and ask for sanctuary. He would know you were lying.

You give him a wordless little nod instead, your face still cradled in his gloved hand. A look flits across his own visage; something so sweet and adoring and disbelieving it makes your stomach twist.

"I don't deserve you," he rumbles, and truer words have never been spoken, as he lets you take him gently by the arm and tug him towards the adjoining bathroom. You ignore the muddy boot-prints on the floor; you try and will yourself to imagine the Cathedral around you. Nothing more than Master Diluc Ragnvindr, needing your aid - you think, as your fingers reach for the fastening of his shredded, tattered jacket and push it off the broadness of his shoulders.

He lets out a hot breath that reminds you that this is not just an ordinary day at the Cathedral; looks at you through half-lidded eyes as you busy yourself with running warm water into the basin, searching for cloths and sponges. There is nothing untoward kept in this bathroom - Diluc does not even shave in here, lest you get the wrong idea about something sharp - but there are, thankfully, enough cloths and a tiny bottle of antiseptic, so that you can clean the wounds on his already scarred chest even as he hisses.

He . . . isn't often undressed around you.

That, he tells you, he will wait for - big soulful crimson eyes trained on you. Until you're ready. Until you realise just how hard he is working to take care of you and you return to him the affection he knows you have in your heart. He would never, he promises, hand on his heart, force you to do anything--

He says, as if you are not forced to play house like a pretty little spouse in his luxurious winery already. He says, as if you are not forced to bite down your growls and hisses and sharp words about the life he has stolen you from. He says, as if you are not forced to pretend you are someone else lest you simply go mad.

His breath is coming out in pants as you work your fingers through the matted crimson strands of his hair. His cheeks have flushed beneath your careful, slow attempts to clean him and his wounds. He groans, chest-deep, as you swallow and reach for his trousers, where you can already see that a gash on his thigh has stuck the fabric to his skin.

"This is how I fell in love with you," he grunts, as you manage to undo it, as your cheeks burn with humiliation as you undress him and he sits there, placid and silent. "So . . . lovely. So . . . caring. Even to those who don't deserve it." You kneel before him, so you can check over the wound to make sure there is nothing stuck in it--

And your mouth goes dry and fear and disgust war in the pit of your stomach as you realise he's hard, the stiff outline of his cock pressing against his underwear. Diluc reaches out for you, one hand curling around your shoulder, another soft groan falling from his mouth as he looks down at you.

You freeze where you are. The moment shimmers between you, charged with possibility, and you find yourself reciting a prayer to Barbatos in your head over and over again, muddling over the words in a fever pitch that Diluc will keep his word--

But he's been off ever since he limped into the Winery. Muddled. A blow to the head? Whopperflower nectar? Some creature's venom, some spell from the Abyss? You don't know what it is, only that Diluc is looking down at you and there is a hot, burning kind of hunger that he usually tries to hide written clear in his crimson gaze.

"You're so pretty down there," He says, voice low and dark and husky. "I . . . I shouldn't taint you like this. Not when you're so pure."

"Diluc?" Your voice comes out thready and reedy, your body trembling like a harp-string. "Let me patch you up--"

"No," Diluc says, more to himself than to you. "I've waited so long--"

The hand on your shoulder curves upwards, thumb brushing your collarbone, your jawline. You curse the thin little morning gown you'd let Adelinde dress you in this morning, the square neckline a little risque - giving Diluc unfettered access to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat and your collar.

He's not interested in those, though. His thumb presses against the seam of your lips, instead. With a strength that an injured man should not possess, he uses his other hand to pull you closer at the same time as he hooks his thumb into your mouth, forcing it to open up.

Panic flaring in your mind. Diluc pulls your mouth open as wide as he can, uncaring that you're drooling - his eyes are somewhere far away now, as he mutters to himself--

"It's not so bad," he's saying, "I'm not . . . it's just your mouth, and I've been so calm, and you're so beautiful-- it won't . . . ruin you--"

"--'iluc--" You can't speak for his thumb in your mouth, for the saliva filling it, for the fear that runs through you as his other hand slowly goes to unbutton his placket as if in a trance.

"Shh," he says to you, and you have never heard a less reassuring hush. "It's alright, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. You offered, remember? I would never . . . force you to do anything--"

[drurrito]

Uninvited

A/N: From the vault--an offering to mitigate the pain from the previous post...enjoy!

Pairings: Natasha x Reader

Warnings: guns, blood

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

You're wiping down the bar when you hear hurried footsteps and someone busting through the door.

"We're closed," you don't look up, still scrubbing at a stubborn sticky puddle from someone's spilled vodka cranberry.

"Should have locked the door then," the sound of a gun cocking grabs your attention. A woman stands behind the barrel aimed at you. Fiery doesn't begin to describe the hue of the hair that falls off her shoulder. Her eyes are piercing even with the bus length between you both. Her lips are pursed with a determination that tells you you're not going to be able to talk your way out of this at all.

You carefully raise your hands, "easy," you say with an even tone, "money's already in the safe so just give me a min-"

"I don't want your money," she rolls her eyes. You feel your stomach sink, your luck might have finally run out. The woman sees your breathing pickup just a bit and she drops her gun.

"I don't want your life, either," she corrects, "I just need some cover. I'm being followed."

"So your first thought was to bring them here and put my life in danger?" You look at her incredulously.

"Again, lock your doors next time," the woman shrugs, "we're running out of time."

"We?" you lurch forward in disbelief but she shoots you a look that shuts down any further protest. You pause for a few moments, "fine, you can try any of the rooms in the back. None of the buildings on this street have a back door, so don't plan on making a quick exit."

The woman doesn't say anything more, she just checks her gun before slinking into the backrooms. You watch her go and with a heavy sigh, you go back to wiping down the bar. You thought life as an ex-pat in Amsterdam would be much quieter than this.

Not five minutes later do you hear even more footsteps barreling down the sidewalk and right through your door.

"We're closed," you try again.

"Shut up," you look up to see yet another gun pointed at your face. Two men in balaclavas with pistols are standing much closer than your last guest was. They have empty eyes and grimy hands, you wonder what kind of business one has to be in to invite this kind of company.

"We're looking for someone," the shorter of the two men say, "fit redhead in a bodysuit."

His partner bellows out a laugh and jams his elbow into his side.

"Bar's been closed for over an hour," you drawl.

"We're not asking how long you've been closed, we're asking if you've seen the lady or not," the taller man speaks this time, further encroaching into your space with his gun still drawn.

"No, I haven't seen the lady," you spit.

"Mind if we take a look around, then?" The small man asks in a way that doesn't give much of a chance to say no.

"Look man, I'm just trying to close up so I can go home-"

"We can make this quick if you just tell us where she is," the smaller man insists.

"No one is here," your voice is louder now, the smaller man smiles widely under his mask.

"Stay here, I'm gonna check it out," the taller man nods and keeps his gun trained on you while his partner disappears into the back. You wait with bated breath as you hear doors open and close. It's only a few minutes before he comes back into the room.

"Was that so hard?" He taunts before walking towards the door, "stay safe out there, lotta bad people in these streets this time of night."

You're too busy rolling your eyes to watch them go. By the time you remember your guest, she's already in the doorway, looking much paler than before. You don't get a word in before she collapses. You barely reach her in time to keep her head from bouncing off the bar floor.

"Shit, hey," you gently shake her shoulder and take inventory of the rest of her body until you see blood seeping out of her side. You wonder how she was able to conceal the injury for so long.

"You're bleeding," you breathe, already scrambling for your phone somewhere on your person.

"M'okay," she rasps, "just a scratch."

"Bullshit," you laugh exasperatedly. You tap away on your phone and put it to your ear, "Bruce, I need you at the bar, bring your kit."

That's all you say so you can turn your attention back to her. She's semi-conscious, her eyes half-lidded.

"Stay with me," you shrug off the flannel you're wearing and press it against the wound. She squirms and feebly tries to push herself upright.

"No, you gotta stay here. You lost too much blood," you say sternly with a gentle hand on her shoulder. You whisper assurances to her until help comes.

--------

The ten minutes that it took for Bruce to show up felt like an hour. You sigh with relief when you see him step through the doorway.

"Oh, what happened here?"

"I'm not even sure at this point," you shrug. Bruce notes the glint of concern in your eyes and takes it as a sign that he needs to work fast.

"Okay, let's get her on a table."

---------

She would have jumped off the table if it weren't for you catching her shoulders in time.

"Easy," you warn. It only takes a few seconds for her to meet you on the same page.

"You're lucky," Bruce starts, "that bullet missed your lung so you're gonna be able to walk out of here pretty soon."

"You called for help?" The woman tries to sound angry, you return her energy with a pointed look.

"You were bleeding out, gun to my face or not, I wasn't going to let you die."

She hesitantly nods with what you assume is gratitude. Her eyes meet yours and wow, she's stunning.

"Once this IV bag drains, I'll unhook you and you'll be free to go," Bruce says, cleaning his tools.

"Thanks, Bruce."

"Thank you," her voice sounds tired. Bruce gives you a look that you're not sure what it means until he leaves you alone with a wink.

"Where in the states are you from?" She wastes no time with the given opportunity. You try not to look so surprised that she was able to clock you as American.

"West coast," is all you give her and she snorts with amusement, "where are you from?"

"Ohio, sorta," she actually responds and you want to feel bad about being vague with your answer now.

"So, why Amsterdam?" She asks and you decide to give a little more.

"Saw it in a movie once," you drawl, "thought it was really pretty. So when the time came to leave, I knew where I was going, but no clue what I was gonna do."

"Why'd you leave the States then?"

"Uh," you tap against your thigh for a few seconds, "heartbreak, identity crisis, needing a change in scenery, you know, all the clichés," you genuinely smile for the first time and you swear you see her almost do the same.

"Any regrets?"

"None, never."

"Liar," you both share a laugh.

"Sorry for pointing my gun at you," she says, propping herself up on her elbows.

"S'alright," you assure her, "wasn't the first time and it certainly wasn't the last, your friends made sure of that."

She frowns, "did they hurt you?"

"No, no," you're quick to wave off her concerns and you think you see some tension leave her shoulders.

"They won't come back, I promise," she holds up her pinky and you pretend not to notice her arm shaking when you wrap your pinky around hers. You both linger in this moment for a few beats until Bruce comes back to take the IV out of her arm.