#I need to get back to this fic I actually wrote this line... a while ago LOL

[kings-highway]

Hello, dear author! Just want to say, thanks for sharing your wonderful fics...Love them...!

Can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them? Thanks if you want to answer....

Hmmmmmmm 🤔

I think there are a couple metrics I could use to make my favourites list, but I'll try to keep it relatively simple and actually answer the question. I think it can easily change, too, depending on whether you think like "what I like the best" versus "which ones make me happy" or "what was the most fun to write" but I'm gonna just go with gut instinct "favourite"

First of all, Honourable Mentions:

"This Is Not The End" - I can almost guarantee you that this will become my favourite story I've written. However, since it's still in progress, I can't say that yet. I still need to stick the landing before I can confirm it's gold star status, y'know?

the "Captain of Captains" series - while I no longer consider Bear Daichi and his exploits my best or favourite work, the support I received on those stories is so important to me and will keep it incredibly well ranked in my heart forever. That many people can't be wrong, right?

Now, ranking! Let's just do a top five...

5. Literally all my longer one shots are tied here... There's a certain "Class" of canon-compliantist one shots that I cannot decide between. Imperfect Facial Symmetry, the Magazine King, You Can't Play Volleyball in a Blizzard, Unforgivable Acts, Somebody Told Me, All for the Love of an Energetic Redhead, Doghouse, Daichi "Dearest", Suga Vs. The Sawamura Family Line, they all have a certain... Spice to them that I can't quite explain that sets them apart from some of my other stories, and some of the more tongue and cheek self referential humour ones, or the short form oneshots. I honestly wouldn't be able to pick. MAYBE let's go with Imperfect Facial Symmetry as my #5 just because I think it is the best written and handles its themes the best.

4. Astrophilia & Stardust - both count as one, as they really need to be read together. Astrophilia was 100% meant to be a stand alone No Comfort story, but the response I had from readers (several people threatening to write and give them the happy ending themselves) made me realize that their paramours back home would not have given up, ever. Stardust, then, to me, is filled with so much genuine heart of the boyfriends, who I so often force to sit and watch the captains suffer, finally taking control of the narrative and doing it themselves driven entirely by the people who demanded I get them home, and that means so much to me.

3. Paranormality - uhhhhhhh yeah Alien Daichi is cool as fuck, this is the QPR OiDai fic of my dreams, the dynamic between all the captains is incredible, Daichi's slow descent into an unhinged nervous wreck is delicious, the monsters, the mayhem, the Ushiten in this is some of my favourite, it has an assortment of OCs that were stupidly fun to write, Daichi's anarchist father being both a government sellout and deeply annoyed by his son's early desire to be a cop is probably one of my favourite headcanons and will probably come back. Rich Sawamura is awesome, Ryukyuan Daichi is actually one of my favourite things ever and I can guarantee you is true in all my other fics going forward unless stated otherwise. Lucky cat! It just has so many of my favourite headcanons and AU ideas all crammed into one and how could I not love it.

2. Danza Della Morte - not at all everyone elses, favourite, probably bc of the MCD tag, but oh my GOD do I love this story. Priest Daichi and his Musician Angel trying to survive 1349 in Venice, my Heart, my Heart. Asahi is a superb supporting cast member, the want between them is wonderful, and the historical subject matter is one of my absolute favourites so it was a joy to write. VASTLY underrated in my opinion.

1. Time Enough to Risk It All - this story has such a special place in my heart, namely because I adore how many people were baffled first by my choice to put Daichi in a Time Loop at all, and then mad at me for making them root for OiDai endgame 🤍 This story was directly inspired by a video essay by Jacob Geller entitled "Time Loop Nihilism," which I HIGHLY suggest you watch if you haven't already. I finished watching it, and essentially immediately opened a blank doc to get to work.

[wvyik]

KNEES, BABY.

dean winchester x fem! reader

ꕤ summary: dean comes home wrecked after a rough hunt. he’s exhausted, and barely holding it together; until you drop to your knees and remind him exactly who he belongs to. basically, desperate fucking in a shitty motel room.

♯ warnings: mdni!! explicit smut, soft dom! dean, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, praise kink, like, actually so much praise it’s embarrassing, mutual desperation, floor sex, dean’s very unrealistic stamina, creampie, this fic is 50% sex and 50% feelings, aftercare included bc we’re not animals.

♯ notes: i wrote this while kicking my feet in the air like a deranged housewife. i am unwell. may we all have a dean winchester to stuff us full and kiss us slow after. (｡- .•)

You hear his boots long before he opens the motel door.

The low, dragging thump of them, heavy like his body’s barely holding together. The hunt had gone bad; not fatal, but messy. Too many vamps. Too much blood. Dean didn’t call. Didn’t text. You waited by the window for hours, pacing in his shirt, heart in your throat, praying.

And now he’s here.

He kicks the door shut behind him and leans against it like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. He’s a mess, mud on his jeans, dried blood across his temple, knuckles cracked open and dripping. That forest green shirt you like so much is torn across the chest, and his mouth is set in this brutal, tired line.

But when he sees you— bare legs, wide eyes, that old tee of his riding too high on your thighs, his whole body softens. Just a little.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says low, like he’s afraid to say it too loud and scare you off. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You cross the room without thinking, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face to his chest. He’s solid and warm and alive, and you can finally breathe again.

“I thought you were—” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss to your hair.

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

He leans back just enough to look at you, thumb brushing under your eye like he knows you’ve been crying. Then his gaze drops. To your mouth, to the way your hands are already sliding under his shirt, touching him like he’s precious.

And he’s so damn tired, but the way you look at him? Like he’s still your hero, even bloody and broken? He can’t help it. He starts to get hard right there.

“You wanna take care of me, baby?” His voice is lower now, rougher, like it’s dragging over gravel. “That what you need?”

You don’t answer. You just sink to your knees in front of him, hands already tugging at his belt, slow and deliberate.

“Ohh, fuck,” he groans, his head falling back for just a second. “Knew you’d do this. Knew you’d be waiting, fuckin’ angel on her knees, huh?”

You free him from his jeans, and he’s already half-hard, thick and heavy in your hand. The sight of it makes your mouth water. You pump him once, twice, slow and gentle, before leaning in and licking a long stripe from base to tip.

Dean shudders, one big hand finding the back of your head. Not to push. Just to feel. “Jesus, sweetheart. You got no idea what you do to me..”

You take him in slowly, letting the weight of him fill your mouth, your jaw going slack as he hits the back of your throat. His hips twitch forward, like his body’s reacting before he can even think.

“God, your mouth. Your fuckin’ mouth’s made for me,” he groans, jaw tight. “So fuckin’ warm. So good.”

You hum around him, sucking deep and wet, letting drool spill down your chin just to hear him swear again. Your fingers dig into his thighs for balance as he gets harder, thicker on your tongue, his breathing going rough.

“You’re my fuckin’ dream, y’know that?” he pants, voice cracked with emotion. “Little thing like you… taking me this deep? Pretty eyes, pretty lips, just for me.”

You moan softly, and the vibration makes him snap, his hand tightening in your hair as his thighs tense. He’s fighting not to fuck your mouth right there, and you can feel it in the way his hips rock forward once, then again.

“Shit—shit, baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep—”

You don’t let up. You look up at him through your lashes, cheeks hollowing as you swallow him deep, spit pooling down your chin, dripping onto your chest.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it— fuck, m’gonna cum— shit, baby— fuckin’ take it—” He groans so deep it rattles in his chest, and then he’s spilling down your throat, his hand gripping your hair like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth. You swallow every drop, not breaking eye contact once.

You pull off with a soft pop, licking your lips, eyes glassy with affection and spit and heat. Dean sinks to his knees in front of you.

“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you into his lap, cupping your face like you’re something holy. He kisses you like a man starved, tongue tasting himself on you, moaning into your mouth like he wants to crawl inside you and stay there.

“Need you, baby,” he mutters against your lips. “Need you on me. Right now.”

You don’t even hesitate, you straddle him right there on the motel carpet, your knees bracketing his hips, tugging that ruined green button-up off his shoulders. He winces when it drags over a healing cut, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He can’t. He mouths at your lips, your jaw, your throat like he’ll die if he doesn’t taste every inch of you.

“You sure?” you whisper, your breath hitching as you grind your hips against the bulge growing again beneath your soaked panties.

His hands slide up your bare thighs, settling on your waist. “Sweetheart, I haven’t felt right since I left this room. All I want… all I fucking want is you.”

You reach down, push your panties down low, and lift your hips just enough to line him up. You’re already so wet, aching and open for him.

“Go slow, baby,” he breathes, eyes locked on your face. “Wanna feel every fuckin’ second.” You sink down onto him— inch by inch, and it knocks the wind out of both of you.

Dean’s head falls back with a guttural groan. “Jesus Christ, you feel unreal.”

Your hands settle on his shoulders as you start to move, slow and gentle, rolling your hips in tight circles. He fills you so perfectly it’s obscene, thick and deep and hot inside you, dragging against every sweet spot like his body was made to live in yours.

His eyes flutter open, and he looks wrecked. Pink in the cheeks, chest heaving, lips parted like he’s been starved of air.

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he moans, hands roaming up your spine, down to your hips, holding you like you’re the only thing tethering him to this earth. “So fuckin’ tight, so good, just… yours, I’m yours, okay?”

You ride him slow, not chasing anything, just feeling. Just being. Your forehead brushes his. He’s breathing like he’s about to cry. And maybe you are too.

“You love me?” you whisper.

His arms wrap fully around you, dragging you closer, fucking deep into you even from under. “Love you so much,” he growls. “Been in love with you since the second you looked at me like I wasn’t broken.”

You bury your face in his neck as you keep grinding on him, your body trembling with how full you feel. “You’re not broken,” you whisper.

He groans, desperate, in awe of you. “Gonna cum inside you,” he pants, voice shaking. “Fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna stay buried right here, keep you stuffed with me. You want that?”

You nod into his shoulder, kissing his throat. “Want it so bad.”

He holds you tight and thrusts up hard, once, twice, and you moan into his ear as he spills inside you, hot and thick and endless. His arms lock around you as he comes, hips twitching, burying his face in your shoulder like he can’t handle it.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I love you— love you, baby, fuck—”

When it’s over, you stay just like that. Breathing hard, still joined, your chests heaving against each other. He doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans back against the wall and pulls you with him, cradling you in his arms like something fragile.

You both stay on the motel floor for a while, his cum leaking out of you slowly, your thighs still shaking, his hand rubbing lazy circles on your lower back.

Dean’s arms wrap you tighter as you both slump against the grimy motel wall, the world outside fading into nothing. His chest rises and falls with slow, heavy breaths, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, steady against his.

He presses a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, his lips warm and rough like he’s memorizing every part of you. “You okay, baby?” His voice is low, husky, filled with something that sounds like relief and awe all tangled up.

You nod, resting your head against his collarbone, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. “Yeah. I’m good. With you.”

He lets out this soft grunt, like a laugh mixed with a sigh. “Damn right you are.” His fingers ghost along your spine, tracing lazy patterns that send shivers down your skin.

For a minute, you just sit there, tangled up in each other, the silence between you filled with quiet warmth. Then Dean pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, those green eyes, glossy and soft.

His breath hitches, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “You’re my whole world, sweetheart. When you’re with me, nothing else matters.”

You press your lips to his, slow and tender, tasting him, still warm, still yours. The kiss lingers, full of promises and comfort, and when you pull away, Dean’s forehead rests against yours again.

“I wanna hold you all night,” he whispers. “Tell you how much I love you till you fall asleep. Let you know you’re safe. Let you know you’re never alone.”

You sigh, heart swelling. “I want that too.”

Dean’s fingers trail down your arm, his touch feather-light but grounding. He moves so carefully, like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. His thumb strokes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

“Don’t ever forget, baby,” he says, voice breaking just a little. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of leather, sweat, and something soft, “I don’t forget.”

Minutes stretch, but time doesn’t matter here. Just Dean’s hands in your hair, his whispered love, your steady breathing against his chest.

Eventually, he presses a kiss to your hairline, then pulls a threadbare blanket from the bedspread behind you. Wrapping you both up like a cocoon, he holds you close, humming low and soothing.

“Sleep if you want. I’m right here.”

You close your eyes, feeling his heartbeat slow, matching yours. Safe, warm, and loved.

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[atyourmerci]

♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Next chapter

♡ ♡

Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret

Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS

♡ ♡

She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.

Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.

No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?

But you knew.

She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.

The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her. 

You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.

You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.

♡ ♡

That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…

“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.

“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”

She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”

You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”

Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”

“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.

You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.

“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”

She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”

You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”

“And how the hell would you know that.”

“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.

“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.

Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.

“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”

“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.

You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.

You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”

“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.

Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.

“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.

She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.

You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.

The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”

“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.

“You want me to touch you there abby?”

“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.

“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.

You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.

“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”

“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.

“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.

“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.

“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”

“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”

She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”

She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.

“So swollen, just for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.

You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.

You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.

“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.

She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.

As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.

She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.

“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.

Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.

Follower req by: @ghgygd

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow

[s4nniebe4r]

dibs

pairing: rival! yunho x fem! reader

synopsis: somebody keeps stealing your favorite chair

wc: 4.2k 

tags: fluff, slice of life, light use of explicit language

etc: this is a major rework of a fic i wrote previously elsewhere, it’s been on my mind for a while… thinking about a potential part two, but i’ve got to work out the kinks and whatnot, as always not thoroughly proofread!

The library is quieter than usual when you step inside, it’s the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound—your footsteps against the aged tiled floor, soft rustling of pages as students flipped through their overpriced textbooks, and the humming of a printer in the distance. You adjust the strap of your bag and exhale, already sorting through the mental checklist of everything you need to get done for this session. 

It’s a lot. Too much, honestly. You’ve got a paper due, an exam to study for, and some general note-taking, a headache was already starting to form, and a general sense of dread was setting in. 

But it’s fine. It’s fine. Because at least you have your seat. 

The one by the window. The one where the light filters in just right, making the otherwise dull atmosphere of the library feel a little less draining. That seat made you understand just how a cat feels curling up under the sun taking a nap; so cozy, so at ease. And it was comfortable—more than the others, anyways—cushioned, in a way that doesn’t make your back regret ever meeting it. From where that chair was, you were perched over and away from the vast majority of the library, but you were easily able to people-watch as they came. It’s a small comfort in a long day, and you’re holding onto it. You always do. 

Or at least, you did. 

Because when you rounded the last bookshelf, ready to collapse into your little area of familiarity, you see him. 

Sitting in your chair. 

Some guy, completely absorbed in whatever’s on his laptop screen. He had himself in your chair. He wore a loose-fitted crew neck, and jeans, his hair tucked lazily under his beanie… his outfit portrayed how he looked in your chair; far too comfortable. His fingers were lazily tapping against his coffee cup, so carefree, like he has nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. Like he belongs there. Which, of course, was far from true. 

So you stop, standing there longer than necessary, waiting for some kind of divine intervention, or universal fixture to this. Maybe, just maybe he’ll look up, and sense your suffering in silence, and move along with his life. Maybe he’ll realize that this chair was not his to sit in. 

But, neither happens. Nothing happens. 

Instead, he stretches a little, shifting like he’s settling further into his seat, and you feel an actual physical reaction—something between the lines of heartbreak and bitterness, maybe a little irritation mixed along. Irritation with yourself, maybe? You don’t own the chair, obviously… you know this. But, it’s yours. 

It’s yours. 

For a second, you debate saying something. You could ask if he plans on staying for long. Maybe drop some sort of passive aggressive hint? There was always the seat across, but that felt too cruel, like salt rubbed into your already stinging wound. 

You were lost in thought, but then his eyes flick up—just for a second, barely long enough to register your presence—before he goes right back to whatever it was that he was doing. There’s a light sprinkle of pink that appears on his face after a second. And his lips purse into a straight line, before the tug upward ever so slightly. 

And that’s when you realize. 

He knows. 

There’s something about the way his lips are twitching, like he’s trying not to smile, and it’s enough to tell you that he’s fully aware of what he’s done. Like he’s waiting to see what you plan on doing about it. 

A small heat courses through you, enough to make you pull out the chair from beside you without much of a second thought. So, without any other choice, you sit. You sit in the only other available spot at the table—that godforsaken, awful wooden chair across from him. The one that’s stiff and unforgiving, it’s everything wrong with seating. And you’re sure he knows that too, because now he really does smile, just barely, as he takes a slow sip of his iced coffee. 

You don’t look at him, as much as you want to, you don’t. You just open your laptop with a little more force than necessary, and start typing. You have no idea what you’re writing, but your fingertips tapped away at your keyboard. 

And so, you sat. Staring at the screen as you mindlessly wrote as the minutes passed. You figure at some point you’d write something useful. And then—because the universe just wasn’t done with you—somebody spoke up. 

“That chair’s not so bad, is it?”

With your fingers halting their motions, just hovering over the keyboard now. You slowly lift your gaze, and there he is, watching you over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes another sip, his eyes full of amusement. 

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. “It’s awful actually,” you deadpan. “And you’re in my seat.”

He hums lightly, shaking his head as he sets his cup down. “I wasn’t aware we called dibs here. And I didn’t see your name on it.”

Oh, you hate him. Instantly. Viscerally. 

“Didn’t realize I needed to,” you reply. “Considering I sit here every time I come here.” 

“Ah.” He nods, like the information is new and groundbreaking. “Well, I'm sitting here now.” He said it so casually. 

Your jaw tightens, almost locking into place. “Yeah. I gathered that.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, head tilted slightly, a slow, insufferable smile forming. It was almost to the point where you could describe it as shit-eating. And just as he grins, he reaches for his laptop, shifting it slightly—just enough to make it painfully clear that he has no intention of moving. 

Fine. That’s just fine. You weren’t about to let some bratty stranger ruin your day. 

You refocus onto your screen, posture stiff no thanks to the chair you were forced upon, fingers aggressively typing out something—anything—to keep from glaring at him. But your mind is already racing, planning every possible way you could reclaim your rightful spot without actually asking. 

You could get here earlier tomorrow. Beat him to it.

It wouldn’t be that hard. So, you let the thought settle, a slow petty satisfaction creeping in. You continue writing whatever it is that you are, and think of tomorrow. 

You walk into the library, this time with a little bounce in your step, a satisfied little smirk tugging at your lips as you take a slow, victorious sip of your drink. It’s sweet, something fruity with just the right amount of tartness; a perfect mix, like the universe was apologizing for yesterday.

Today, you were winning, and you made sure of it. 

You left earlier than usual, cutting through campus like you were a woman on a mission, and you did sacrifice your usual few minutes of mindless rotting on socials just to be here. Before anyone else, but especially before him. If yesterday was an unfortunate twist of fate, today is divine justice. That chair is yours, and you’re going to sit in it. Reclaim it. 

And so, with the extra pep in your stride, you weave through the aisle, your fingers tightening around your cup, anticipation creeping up on you. The closer you get, the more your confidence builds, your mind already savoring the feeling of sinking back in your spot, watching the light filter through the window, so perfectly onto your back. The thought of stretching out into the space that’s so perfectly yours that you could, well you could nearly—

And then, the world stops. 

You see it. 

Rather, you see, him. Sitting in your chair. Again. 

You come to a dead stop, nearly choking on your own drink in disbelief. 

He’s there, again, stretched out in your chair. His laptop is already open, positioned at just the right angle, his fingers yet again lazily tapping away against the keyboard like he has all the time in the world. His iced coffee—which frankly, he doesn't deserve—sits right beside him, condensation trailing down and onto the wooden table. An easy sign that he’s been here for a while. 

Like he planned this. Like he knew. 

He looks up. 

His eyes meet yours, just for a second, and then, the slowest, most insufferable grin spreads across his face. The same shit-eating grin from yesterday. It makes your stomach twist in a way you absolutely refuse to acknowledge. 

He raises his cup slightly, like a toast. 

“Morning.”

You can’t pull yourself to say anything. So you just blink at him. 

He knows. He absolutely knows. He knows that you know, that he knows. 

“Are you,” you exhale sharply through your nose, tightening your grip on your cup, almost to the point of spilling. “Are you serious?”

He just shrugs. “What? You didn’t call dibs.”

With every fiber of your being, you absolutely hate him.

“You—” you glance up at the clock on the wall, you are scrambling to process this. “What time did you even get here?”

“Earlier than you,” he replies smoothly, taking a slow sip of his coffee. 

You grimace. 

He just looks at you. Calm and amused. Infuriatingly so. He seems the type to enjoy watching people unravel. But you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that this has genuinely thrown you off. 

So, instead, you gather everything together in you, lift your chin ever so slightly, and step forward. 

“Fine.”

You grab the same god-awful chair from yesterday—the chair that has no business even existing—and sit across from him. 

And him?

Still wearing that same stupid smile. 

The third day comes around, and you’re prepared. 

You don’t just leave early, you have a clear cut plan. Perfectly executed. 

And now, here you are, victorious.

Sitting in your rightful spot, drink in hand, soaking in the warmth of your cozy little chair. The sunlight filtering through the window, hitting just the right angle on your back, and you lean into it, savoring every single second. It’s sweet, really. You won. 

It honestly should feel a little embarrassing how smug you feel about it, but you didn’t mind too much. He did have it coming. If he thought he could steal your chair two days in a row, then he clearly had you grossly underestimated your willpower to be petty. 

You’re mid-sip, indulging in your well-earned satisfaction, when you hear the footsteps. The presence. The slight pause in movement, like someone just registered something unexpected, just as you had the days prior. 

You glance up, and there he is. 

He stands a few feet away, his bag slung over his right shoulder, his iced coffee in his opposite hand. His head tilts slightly as he takes in the scene before him. 

Then, the slowest, most ridiculously amused smile spreads across his face, leaving you curious. 

“Oh, wow.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You really wanted that seat, did you?”

You set your drink down, crossing your legs, leaning back into the chair like second nature. “What can I say? Everything returns to how it should be. This is universal justice.”

His lips twitch, brows furrowed, like he’s holding back a laugh. “Right. And by justice, you mean beating me here by, what? A few minutes?”

“Not my fault you slacked today.” You say, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve lost your edge.”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. Not in an irritated way, more like he’s intrigued. He studied you for a second longer, then—

“Well.” He exhales once more, tapping his fingers against his cup. “Guess I’ll just have to take the seat across from you then, won’t I?”

And your smugness falters, just a little. 

Because of course he would. 

You shift, sitting up slightly as he moves, pulling out the chair across from yours—the very same god-forsaken, uncomfortable, completely cursed chair that you suffered in for the past two days. Except, unlike you, he doesn’t seem remotely bothered, not in the slightest. He just sets his drink down, slides into the seat, and looks right at you, as if this is all completely normal. 

You narrow your eyes. “You’re really going to sit there?”

He lifts a brow. “Did you call dibs on this too?”

Your jaw tightens at the audacity this man has. 

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, mockingly slow, before setting it down. “Besides,” he muses, tilting his head slightly, “it’s kind of nice sitting across from someone. Good company and all.”

You blink. “...We’re not company.”

“Sure we are.” 

“No, we’re not.”

He hums, unconvinced. Then after a beat he speaks again. “So, what’s your name, then?”

You pause, skeptical. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Figured if we’re gonna keep stealing seats from each other, we might as well know what to call one another.”

You study him for a moment. There’s something genuinely amazed in his expression, like he’s been entertained by you this entire time. Like this has been fun for him. 

Before you can answer, he glances at your cup, then gives you that familiar shit-eating grin. “Y/N.”

Your eyes widen. “How do you—?”

He nods at your drink. “Your name’s on the cup, genius.”

You glance down, and sure enough, there it is, scrawled in black marker across the side of your cup. 

“Oh,” you blink, feeling a little ridiculous. “Right.”

He chuckles softly, turning his own cup slightly so you can see the name written on it. 

Yunho. 

Your eyes trace over the letters as he leans forward, just a little, barely noticeable, and rests his forearms on the table. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, voice so smooth, almost like he was teasing. “I’m Yunho.”

You roll his name around in your mind. Yunho. It suits him, somehow. 

You take a moment to clear your throat. “Well, Yunho,” you say, meeting his gaze. “Just so we’re clear—this seat is mine.”

His grin only widens. “We’ll see.”

The fourth day, you tell yourself, is going to be different. 

Not because you’re going to get all worked up over a chair again. No, you’ve got things to do. Things a collegiate student has got to do; assignments to complete. You’re here for a productive study session.

Except, when you round that last corner again, Yunho is already there. 

He’s sitting in your seat and is wearing his signature smirk when he sees you approaching. 

“You’re slacking,” he says, sipping his iced coffee. “I expected better.”

You exhale through your nose, leveling him with a look. “I’m not here for games today.”

He raises an eyebrow, acting surprised. “Oh? Then what brings you to these parts?”

You wordlessly pull out the infamous chair across from him and sit down, dropping your bag onto the table. “I have work to do.”

Yunho leans forward, his hands cupping his chin as he looks up to you. “How tragic.”

You ignore him, taking out your laptop and flipping it open. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even pretend to do anything productive. Instead, he stays in the same state he was, his cheeks pressed against the palms of his hands. He just stays there for a minute, and then, his pen clicks.

You don’t acknowledge it at first. 

His pen continues to click. 

But you keep typing. 

And so does the clicking. 

You pause. Inhaling sharply, forcing yourself to stay composed, and then resume your work. 

A thumb presses down on the end of his pen a few more times and the clicks practically echo through your ears. You can only take so much of it. You slap your hand down on the table, making the pen jump from his grasp. “Do you have an actual reason to be here, or are you just here to irritate me?”

Yunho blinks. Then he grins. “Oh, I definitely have work to do.”

“...Then do it.”

He shrugs. “I work better with background noise.”

You let out a short and dry laugh, almost sounding strained. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

He tilts his head, clearly entertained by what you had to say. “What, you think I just came here to mess with you, someone I met only three days ago?”

“Yes.”

He scoffs before placing a hand over his chest in dramatics. “I am appalled by your false ideologies.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. “If you have actual work, do it. Otherwise, find someone else to annoy.”

“Tempting,” he says, “but no one else reacts quite as such as you.”

You make it a point to ignore him, willing yourself to focus on the assignment. For a few minutes, it works, it’s quiet, save for the faint sounds of typing and shuffling pages behind you. You start to think maybe, just maybe, you’ll get some work done today. 

Then he speaks again. 

“I think you should take a break.”

You don’t stop typing, you don’t even look up. “I’ve been working for ten minutes.”

“Exactly. I think you’re overworking yourself.”

Your lips pressed together in a straight, thin line. “You just want me to stop working so you can bother me more.”

“Maybe,” he admits. Then after a beat, “Or maybe I just think it’s a little unfair that we’re sitting here and not talking.”

You finally glance at him, skeptical, wary. “Why do you want to talk to me so badly?”

He sits and acts as if he’s thinking hard on the topic, going far enough to point a finger to his lips as his eyes furrow into each other, like he’s deep in thought. He seemed to enjoy this. Humming, he says “Maybe because you’re the only person in this library that looks personally offended by my being here.”

You scowl. “I’m not offended. Just… mildly inconvenienced.”

“Ah, so you do like me then.”

You scoff, turning back to your laptop. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Yunho.”

He hums, seemingly satisfied. “Oh, so now you’re calling me by my name?”

You don’t respond, instead pretending to type something important. Yunho chuckles softly before reaching for his coffee, taking a slow, deep sip as he watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. 

Eventually, his eyes shifted from you, to your laptop, he appeared to be tuning into the sound of the keys clacking, one after the other. And from the laptop, his eyes followed to the drink you brought with. A sixteen ounce iced strawberry lemonade mixed with black tea and popping boba. The exact order stickered onto the side of the cup with your name scribbled to the left.  The exact same one from the days before. 

Eventually, he followed your lead and did his own studying, both of you working silently away. The minutes continued on as the two of you were engulfed in your academics, until eventually the library closed for the day, the two of you heading your separate ways. 

You’re already running late, which never happens. Usually, you’re the first one at the library, tucked into your usual spot before the place fills up. But today, Thirty minutes were stolen from you. You were in your sweatpants, and barely awake. And of course, as you rounded the corner, the first thing you see when you walk in is Yunho—leaning into the chair, looking up from his laptop.

“Thought I’d see you eventually,” he says, casually stirring his drink in his hand. “Here.” he continues as he pushes a familiar pink drink your way. 

You blink at him. “You- you ordered for me?”

Yunho shrugs, just pushing the cup even further across the table. “You’re never this late. Figured something tragic must’ve happened, like, maybe you overslept for the first time in your life.”

You narrowed your eyes, inspecting the label. Sure enough, it’s exactly what you would have ordered given the chance. “How would you even know what I get?”

“Habit of mine,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I pay attention.”

You let out a breath of air, sliding into the chair across from him and flipping open your laptop. “That’s a little creepy.”

“Oh definitely.” He takes a sip of his drink, then gestures at your outfit with an amused look. “Gotta say, sweatpants are a new look for you.”

You just groan. “Don’t start.”

“No, I mean it,” he says, leaning back, his grin only widening. “It’s a good look on you.”

You pause. Blinking at him again. He isn’t teasing—well, maybe a little—but there’s something fairly effortless about the way he says it that makes your face warm, just a little. It’s either the sheer confidence of it or the fact that it’s coming from him, of all people. However, you are determined not to let him get the upper hand, you roll your eyes and turn your attention to your laptop. “What are you pretending to work on today?”

“Same thing as you.”

Your lips pulled to one side, almost frowning. “What?”

“We’re in the same class, genius.”

Your brain practically stutters. “No we’re not—”

“East wing, big lecture hall, right? Got to be at least two hundred students? You sit near the front.”

You hesitate for a moment before you nod.

Yunho raises a brow, looking a little too pleased with himself. “Exactly. I sit further back.”

You stare at him, trying to process this information. “You’ve been in my class this whole time?”

He nods, tapping his fingers against the table. “Guess you just never noticed.”

Your cheeks flushed a rosy color again. You go to open your mouth, then close it again in a hurry. You don’t know why you’re feeling so oddly flustered. “Well, sorry, but I actually pay attention to the professor, not the people behind me.”

Yunho chuckles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Something about the way he says it—lighthearted, so amused, but also kind of observant—it makes your stomach continue to twist in a weird way. Has he been noticing you this whole time? Shaking the thought away, you change the subject. “Alright, so what’s the assignment this time?”

“The paper. The one due next week.”

You groan yet again, rubbing your temples in slight pain of the topic. “Right. That one.”

Yunho tilts his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t started.”

“Oh, I’ve started,” you mutter. “Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

He chuckles, nodding in a quiet understanding before he talks again. “Yeah, I get that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around half the material myself.”

You glance at him, curiosity now piqued. “You don’t get it?”

“Not all of it,” he admits, spinning the pen effortlessly between his fingers. It almost seemed dwarfed in his hand. “Takes me a while to really absorb everything. That’s why I usually keep studying after the library closes.”

You blink, taking in the almost shocking information. “Wait—you study after the library closes?”

Yunho shrugs. “Yeah. Just go back to my dorm and keep going until it just sticks.”

Something about that makes you pause. You’ve never really thought about how he works, you always assumed he was the kind of person who breezed through everything, given his calm and collected demeanor. The idea that he has to put in extra effort, that he stays up late grinding through the material, makes you look at him differently. “I didn’t know you studied that hard,” you say.

Yunho tilts his head sideways, leaning in. His head perched on his left hand whilst his right continues bobbing the pen back and forth.  “Some of us aren’t naturally geniuses.”

You huff a small laugh in retort. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.”

He stares back at you before letting his lips twitch upwards. “Oh? And miss out on all of this? Nah.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something about the exchange that feels a little different. Less like your usual bickering, there’s a little something more to his teasing this time, even if it’s small.

The thought lingers as you turn back to your laptop, typing out a few sentences before glancing at him again. He’s still spinning his pen, deep in thought, lips slightly pursed. He must sense you watching him because he looks up, eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your breath catch for just a second. 

He tilts his head. “What?”

You shake your head quickly, looking away. “Nothing.”

There’s a pause. And then, “You know, if you’re feeling generous, you could help me study sometime. You know, you do owe me a drink.”

You glance back at him, raising a brow. “After the library closes?”

His lips quirk up. “That is, if you’re up for it.”

A small silence settles between the two of you. He’s sitting there with a grin on his face, not the usually shit-eating one, but an easy one, something that makes you feel uncomfortably calm. You tap your finger against your laptop, considering the offer. 

“Maybe,” you say. “If you promise to stop making fun of my sweatpants.”

His grin grows a little deeper. “No promises.”

You roll your eyes yet again, but your lips twitch up despite your knowledge. The assignment still looms over you, and you know there’s work to be done, but for now, maybe you could let it wait. There’s always time to study after the library closes. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Hands Off

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Jax Fic Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; protective!Jax, drunk asshole getting too handsy, pining, best friends that clearly like each other and need to get their heads out of their asses (that's a tag, right?)

Summary: All you'd wanted was to go out for a few drinks with your friends after your breakup, but an asshole at the bar refuses to leave you alone.

a/n: This little fic happens to be in the same world as the one shot I wrote As Small As Possible. You don't necessarily need to read it first, but it gives more backstory between Jax and Reader. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Jax Teller one shot tag list: @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @bear-ink @secretlysamcro @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bonnyclydecat @nutellajade @aria725

Leaning over the bar counter, you watched as the bartender grabbed the beer you’d just ordered from the fridge. Your nails drummed impatiently along the bartop as you waited, your mind already focused back on the table your friends were sitting at. After your breakup with Brian the other week, you’d just wanted to get out tonight and forget about him for a little while. To forget about the girl you’d caught in his apartment that evening wearing nothing but his shirt. To forget about whatever the hell had happened before she’d thrown that on–because your mind had certainly supplied more than enough ideas.

Though what you really wanted to do tonight was to forget about how horrible your recent string of failed relationships kept making you feel about yourself. Even though you knew it was just the assholes you’d been dating and that there wasn’t anything actually wrong with you, it still had you feeling like absolute garbage every time one of the guys you’d been seeing either cheated on you, ghosted you, or turned out to be a complete piece of shit. But, admittedly, there wasn’t much more that Charming had to offer you besides the same things over and over in terms of potential boyfriends. It was like searching for the least rotten apple in a pile of trash. 

And of course the one man you wanted–the one that you knew would actually treat you better than all the others–would never in his life commit to just one woman.

But you weren’t going to think about that tonight. You were going to enjoy your evening and relax. You’d even gotten Jax to come out with your friends–a rarity since he always talked you into just drinking at the clubhouse with the guys for free. But you didn’t want to do that tonight. You wanted a change of scenery, and you wanted to let loose without the presence of a bunch of croweaters reminding you of that girl in Brian's apartment. You didn't want to be surrounded by those girls with their little waists and their big tits popping out of their crop tops. You didn’t want the constant visual reminder of just how different you felt from all of them–how different you were from all the girls your exes kept choosing over you.

Nails still drumming along the bar counter, you watched as the bartender made his way back towards you, your beer in his hand. Trying to push away those negative thoughts, you reminded yourself that you wanted to have fun tonight, you weren’t going to mope over your beer and drown in self-pity. But just as the bartender set your drink onto the bar, you saw a man lean over it to the left of you out of your peripheral.

Just what you needed right now, some prick about to throw some dumbass line at you.

“Pretty thing like you shouldn't be drinking alone,” the guy slurred.

Great. He was drunk, too. 

“I'm not,” you replied, turning away from the bar with your beer in hand. “And I'm not interested, either.”

You'd barely taken a step before the asshole thought it was a good idea to grab your wrist, pulling against it with enough force that you stumbled a step back towards him. Hand gripping the cold glass neck of your beer bottle, you wished it was this guy's throat you were gripping instead when you looked back over your shoulder at him. But he had the audacity to just smile at you when your eyes met his. 

“Where you think you're goin’ in a rush, gorgeous?” he asked.

Yanking your wrist from his hold, you turned back around towards him with a sharp glare. His sleazy grin slowly began to disappear as his inebriated mind registered that this interaction wasn't going whatever way he was thinking it would.

“Better question is,” you shot back, gesturing your beer at him as you spoke, “what the hell do you think you're doing grabbing me like that?”

“Just wanna talk, dollface,” he slurred. “Get your name.” He paused, that disgusting little grin sliding over his face once more as he openly eyed you from head to toe. “Maybe do a little more.”

Pulling a face, you physically recoiled back from the man when his hand raised towards you again. You could practically hear the things he was thinking right now and it made your skin crawl.

“Absolutely not,” you told him, disgust rising in you. “And next time you try to hit on a girl, maybe keep your damn hands to yourself. I'm not a goddamn park bench–we’re not public property. You can’t just touch whatever the fuck you want.”

The man’s face began to shift into a look of outrage before he pushed off of the bar. He swayed a bit on his feet as he took a step towards you, not even remotely deterred by your words. If anything, it seemed you’d really pissed him off now.

“Yeah?” he snapped. “You one o’those stuck up cunts, huh? Think you’re too good for the rest of us?”

Before you could take a step back, the guy’s hand had reached forward, yet again grabbing onto you–this time by the forearm. Except his grip was much firmer now as he pulled you towards him, causing you to stumble as beer sloshed out of the full bottle in your hand.

“Should teach you how to talk to a man,” he threatened, fingers tightening against your skin. “Put that mouth o’yours to–”

“Get your filthy fuckin’ hands–” Jax’s enraged snarl cut him off, his own hand flying out of nowhere as he appeared beside you, grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt and balling it tightly into his fist, “–off my girl before I shove it so far up your own ass that you’ll be choking on it.”

Eyes widening in surprise, you hadn't realized Jax had even noticed this entire encounter from where you'd left him at the table with your friends when you’d gone to grab another drink. But now he was standing with his body between yours and the drunk man as if he was a physical barrier between the two of you, his fist gripping the man's shirt so tight you could see the tension along his forearm as his eyes narrowed dangerously at the guy. 

His words hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, either. He’d called you his girl. And the sound of that had your tongue darting out to wet your lips, even if you knew he’d meant nothing behind it. You were his girl in the sense that you were his best friend. A part of his family. Someone he’d absolutely spill blood over something like this for.

“Hands. Off,” Jax growled low. “Now. I ain’t fuckin’ asking.”

The man’s eyes shifted from you to Jax slowly, the anger on his face quickly morphing into confusion as his brows pinched together, his gaze dropping down to Jax’s kutte and the patches along it. You watched as the realization of who he was dealing with dawned on the man, his eyes widening slightly before he released your forearm. A satisfied smile slowly spread across your mouth as you raised your beer to your lips, finally taking a pull off of it. 

But Jax’s expression didn’t remotely change. His lips were drawn into a tight, thin line along his face, his nostrils flaring with each exhale. His grip on the man’s shirt hadn’t lessened in the slightest. Instead, the moment the man had released your arm, Jax had roughly shoved the guy back into the bar counter, pressing him hard against it as he got in the man’s face with a look on his own that was absolutely murderous. 

“You think it’s alright grabbing girls like that, you little shit?” Jax snapped, his words flying out so harsh you swore you saw spittle hit the guy in the face. “She told you to fuck off, or are you too goddamn dumb to understand?”

Behind the counter, you noticed the bartender growing uncomfortable with the confrontation that had erupted in the middle of the bar. The patrons that had been drinking nearby had also clearly moved farther away, giving Jax a wide berth as he continued telling the drunk asshole off. You figured you’d let Jax get some of it out of his system before you cut in–the dipshit needed to be taught a lesson anyway.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Jax spat. “You just that goddamn stupid?”

“Dude, I–I don’t–” the guy stuttered, his mouth opening and closing as he clearly struggled with how the hell to get out of this situation without a hospital visit. “I wasn’t–she just–”

Jax pulled the guy away from the bar with the hand still gripping the man’s shirt before he shoved him roughly back against it again, effectively shutting him up. As Jax got back in the man’s face again, fury still written clear across it, you watched as a few strands of his slicked back hair fell forward around his face.

“You don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that,” Jax grit out between clenched teeth. “And you sure as shit don’t think about her like that.”

That’s when you saw it–that look in Jax’s eyes that told you he was about to start bloodying his fists. Without a moment’s hesitation, you stepped over towards him and gently placed your hand along his shoulder. The weight of it caught his attention, his head darting behind himself before your eyes met. You could see that fire inside of his blue eyes, and right now it was burning because of you. A pleased shudder ran through you at the sight of it.

“I think he got the message, Jax,” you told him, ignoring what you’d just felt. You gestured your head across the bar back towards the table with your friends; all you wanted was to go sit back down and focus on the night. “Come on. Before my beer gets too warm and the police get called.”

There was a brief moment where you weren’t certain that Jax was going to leave the guy alone, your eyes catching the way his teeth ground together. But then he shoved the man sharply back into the bar one last time with a harsh exhale. That dark glare never left his face as he returned his attention to the man.

“Your sorry ass should be grateful to her,” Jax told him, pointing a ringed finger behind himself at you. “Cause if it weren’t for her, I’d be beating the shit outta you right now.”

With much effort, Jax reluctantly turned away from him before he stepped over towards you. He slung an arm around your shoulders, his body still tense against your side. The hand not carrying your beer reached up, grabbing ahold of his where it rested against you as you began to lead the pair of you back to the table. As you both walked, Jax glanced over at you, a frown settling on his face as his eyes curiously studied you.

“You good, darlin’?” he asked. “That bastard didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Not really,” you answered. “Just pissed me off. But considering how close he was to pissing his pants when you showed up, I think he regretted his decisions this evening.”

“Shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that,” Jax grumbled, his arm around your shoulder pulling you further into his side. “‘Bout damn near ready to rearrange his face.”

As you neared the table with your friends, you couldn’t hold back the soft, breathy laugh that fell out of you. Jax’s attention returned to you at the sound, one of his blonde brows raising onto his forehead. Despite his confusion at your response and the tension from the recent situation, you saw the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Deirdre said she saw Brian the other day. At the gas station,” you replied, coming to a stop. A grin slipped onto your face as you looked at Jax beside you. “She said he had a split lip and a black eye.”

“Did he now?” Jax asked.

Your own brows rose up onto your forehead at his answer that was obviously laced with faux surprise. You hadn’t forgotten how he’d threatened to beat the shit out of your ex for cheating on you the other week.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” you asked.

Jax pulled a face, shrugging his shoulders casually in response. But that smirk was still drawn over his lips, the sight causing your own grin to grow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’,” he replied, once more guiding you back towards the table. “Maybe he accidentally ran into a wall. Or someone’s fist.”

With a roll of your eyes, an amused snort slipped out of you. The sound only made Jax chuckle, his arm falling away from your shoulders when you both returned to your previous seats.

“Yeah, maybe that’s what happened,” you replied, meeting his gaze knowingly. “An accident.”

[sapphicautumn]

Afterthought. EW.

synopsis: Ellie and you go on your regular scheduled patrol, but when danger is found, it leaves you both in shambles - realising you could lose each other at any time.

Pairing: Bestfriend!ellie x Fem reader. WLW

Contents: fluff, friends2lovers? Smut. Emotional constipation. Swearing, and whatever else lmk if I forgor 💀

A/N: hey! This is actually my first ever time writing on tumblr, I’m usually a silent reader of the tags, so this is a bit nerve wracking for me lol. There’s not a lot of Bella Ramsey Ellie fics on here- so I hope you like it. I am writing on my phone as I’m currently on the train ride home- ignore any typos, that’s on my tired ass. If you enjoy, please reblog and thank you for reading 🥨

Men and minors DNI

“You don’t need to collect every flower you see, you know that? Right?”

Ellie’s voice teased, guiding shimmer as she rode the brown horse around you, eyes gazing down as she tried to bite a smile back.

“Let me be” your voice hummed, picking up dandelions from the ground. You kept a book back at home in Jackson with stamped flowers you find on patrol. It always provided some form of comfort? That although there’s so much evil in this current situation of the world, beauty still grows.

Ellie didn’t get it. She didn’t get a lot of things, but that’s why you love her.

“Cmonnn get back on the damn horse, patrol will last forever the longer you drag it out” Her voice rang, pulling the lead of the horse to a halt. She always spoke in what others would call a sarcastic tone, but it was what you knew her to always sound like. It’s just Ellie, she’s not intimidating to you. Quite the contrary.

You both met 3 years ago now, when you had joined Jackson with just your mom in search of a safe haven. Being close in age, you found yourself hanging with Dina first, who eventually introduced you to her own group of friends; Jesse & Ellie.

You all would hang out every night basically, spending time at each others houses, or at the tipsy bison, or even sometimes hiding behind jesses house while he attempted to roll joints that never quite came out the way you guys wanted.

“You should be kicked out of the town for that” dina would say, gesturing to the pathetic roll that laid in front of her.

Somewhere along the way, Jesse and Dina found themselves getting closer. Them starting to date wasn’t a shock to Ellie and you. It was obvious how much they liked each other. Previous group activities turned into paired plans of just you and her, it provided you to grow quite close.

She was always gruff and protective of her own self. The walls she built were tall and made of thick brick. Although not thick enough apparently, as your soft exterior was able to chisel in, seeing a side of Ellie most of the town doesn’t take time to know.

If anyone were to ask, you’d say Ellie is your best friend, your patrol buddy, Curtis to your viper. The list goes on.

Ellie on the other hand, …..feels like a perverted creep, as there’s a side you could have never guessed possessed the girls mind….and journal.

“She’s too sweet…I don’t even think she’s into girls and I’m being so weird!!!!! I probably scare her omg, don’t realise I look at her too long until she says sumthing…She didn’t want to hang out tonight. I think her being “sick” was an excuse”

Her hand would cramp as she pressed the pencil harder to the paper, writing at her desk in the comfort of Joel’s garage.

“We were at the bar just yesterday. I walked behind her to get to my seat. Her hair smelled like vanilla. How does she do that?? Jesse and her talked about some stupid show idk the name. He looked at her like he wanted her. He has dina. I’m in no position to be jealous but LITERALLY fuck off j-“

Ellie’s eyes widened, the tip of her pencil snapping with the force of which she wrote. It’s time for bed anyways.

She never planned on telling you, in fact, she got used to the idea of dying a single lady, if it meant you also died one. Think among the lines of “if I can’t have you, no one will”. Yeah. That’s what she’s got going on.

So she bit her tongue anytime she saw you dress up cute for events, trying to be nonchalant whenever you’d bake her and Joel banana bread, or when she’d get home after a night at the bar, trying to smack out the imaginary of what you’d look like on her bed from within her brain. What the fuck is wrong with you? And why’re you so ….you? She almost wish you weren’t in Jackson so she wouldn’t have to worry about having a crush that felt so juvenile it made her itch to the core.

Lips. Are. Sealed.

The two of you rode shimmer down the designated path, the grass worn down from how many people have came down this exact way within the past few weeks.

“I think we should check out the abandoned house over there” your hand would gesture across before resuming to holding Ellie’s waist.

“I mean…we really don’t need to, you insist on all these side quests and-”

“Ellie I know damn well you got nothing better to do once we get back except for sleep. I wanna go check. Maybe there’s something cool in there?” You interrupt.

With a scoff, she parks the horse across the way, hopping off and absent mindlessly reaching up to help you slide off, her fingers gently holding your hand and hip. “There we go..”

You smile gently, adjusting your coat and clearing your voice. “Well. Let’s go”, your boots guide you to the old, broken down wooded house, the appearance of it so ghastly that it’s leaving Ellie wondering if it’ll collapse on you both.

“What do you think is in there?” She began, a little hint of snark in her tone as she protectively followed right behind you, hands wanting to keep you next to her, but she digressed to them on her holster.

“I dunno” you shrug, eyes looking back at the girl. “Some porn?”

“You’re a fucking idiot. I think Eugene’s old stash is plenty, that fucker had like 40 tapes in that cabinet and-”

“Wait shut the fuck up” you wave your hand at her, listening to some distant sound upstairs. You smirk.

“This is a bad idea” she whispers, “maybe we should just head back? Don’t go upstairs”

“Oh I’m going upstairs”

Your Ellie’s biggest migraine with legs. Of course- she follows you. The stairs creak, making her eyes scrunch with cringe, thinking about the possibility of a clicker being upstairs, hearing every footstep you both made. She tapped her flash light, illuminating the area as they reached the top.

You pulled out your pistol, holding it cautiously. Despite your soft exterior, you lived for this shit. Ellie would think you were the immune one with the fearlessness you displayed on patrols.

You scanned all the rooms, finding to be disappointed. “Ellie?”

She left the bathroom, the cabinet was raided, there’s nothing even here worth the trip. “This place is empty”

You huff, looking around. “But i heard something, I swear. It sounded like footsteps”

Once Ellie walked into, what you both assumed used to be a bedroom, she met back up with you. “Maybe it was wind? The windows broken, and the wood is old”

With a sigh, you examine the space, lowering the gun. Your eyes dart to the beside table, opening it. There’s some old photographs inside. “Els, cmere”

She knelt on the creaky floor, her flashlight shining on the Polaroids you pulled out. Ellie couldn’t help but smile at them, as such few photos showcased a story to the house they sat in.

“A family lived here” you whispered, seeing a man and woman, smiling as they bundled together for the picture. A few shuffles and you come across another of a newborn baby laying on the same fabric of the bed your back presses against. “Aw…”

Ellie’s lips curled, “I wonder what happened to them” she whispered

“Me too….” You flipped the back to see the date. 2012. These people could be in Jackson? Or somewhere far away…or maybe you’ve already encountered their infected forms on prior patrols. It always is a sickening reminder that the brainless threats you kill daily used to be people with stories. Someone’s baby.

Ellie noticed the tone change, her hand brushing out to comfort you. “I’m sure they are ok, don’t dwell on it.” Her tatted arm rubbed your back, making you shiver a bit.

“Maybe.”

She took the photos and put them back in the drawer, shutting it. “Let’s just go, Tommy is gonna be mad we took another detour.” As she stood, she exhaled, “damn, my knees”

Your eyes glanced as she walked out, snickering quietly at how much of an old man this 19 year old was. “I told you to stop sitting on your legs, it is a bad habit”

With a roll of eyes, ellie waves you off, the two of you making the way back down the stairs you came up earlier. “Sorry you didn’t get your porn. If it helps I’m sure Jesse has something he’d be willing to give up”

You smile knowingly, “you always act like I hang out with him. He’s with Dina, dumbass”

“You two aren’t close? You seem it” she mumbled, almost annoyingly. Her pistol sliding back into the leg holster.

You watched her back, thinking. “You think I like him or something?”

“Did I say that?” Her hands held up in defence.

“I feel like your kinda hinting at that, els. I wouldn’t do that to Dina. Besides, Jesse is farrrrr from…my type”

She raised a brow, mumbling “your type?” Her body turned to face you, but there you were already wandering into another part of the room. Your like a dog that needs to be guided where to go on it’s walk. “Can you just come back here, damnit”

“Look!” you held up the yarn, smiling. You had a little hobby of knitting blankets…hats…scarfs. You’d even make stuff for the damn horses at the stables. Finding yarn was equivalent to ellie finding weed. Very exciting.

Ellie sighed, “ok great, that’s great, good. Now let’s-”

“There’s some more over here” your feet led you behind the wall, into the shared room. You opened up the storage closet, coming face to face with something you’ve never seen before. Before you could pull your gun back out, the infected pushes you across the room to the floor, jumping on you. Your arms tried to push and shield, “ELLIE!!!”

The girl jumped at the noise, running around the corner to see what she thought was a clicker on top of you. “What the fuck!!!!??” She panted, quickly fumbling to grab anything, her knife is what she reached first.

Your screams intensified as the creature leaned down, your faces were close, you couldn’t identify the thing, you were too fucking focused on NOT getting bit.

Within seconds, Ellie’s knife is brought around to the throat, slicing it and tossing the lifeless body to the side, the room quiet except for your pants, your brush with possible death leaving you in a state of shock.

You’ve patrolled a lot, and never been this close.

Almost too nervous to ask, ellie kneeled and spoke, shakily, “fuck….you bit? You ok??” Her heartbeat was in her ears. This is why she wanted to leave, not even be here in the first place.

“Y-yea-yeah. I- sorry, I j-”

“Shh I got you” she folded the knife, frowning as her hands helped scoop you up to your feet. Legs almost buckling.

“I don’t know what that is” you whisper, looking down at the bleeding out infected now on the wood floor.

“Me neither,…I’ve never seen that.”

“It was like..h-hiding, infected d-dont hide”

She simply nods, too focused on your state of being. “Cmon…”

The two of you are led out back to the fresh air. Shimmer eating some of the grass before Ellie beckons the horse over. With the natural lighting she identifies how pale your face was, heart breaking, feeling like she didn’t protect you enough. Her eyes scan over again, reassuring herself you didn’t get bit or scratched.

Her arms helped hoist you upon the saddle of the animal, before scooping herself up in front of you. “Just hold on to me, I’m heading back”

The ride was quiet for the most part, your hands trembling as they secured yourself around Ellie’s hips.

“How we doing?” She mumbled, making it over the hill. Jackson’s walls were within eyes reach.

“I don’t feel good”

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on the horses lead. “Yeah that was….that was scary huh?” She whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re ok, physically”

Your head leaned against the back of your friends denim green jacket, still feeling a bit spooked. You lived a sheltered lifestyle within the town, mostly working in the stables. Patrol wasn’t weekly for you, ellie brought you along sometimes because of her own selfish reasons, to be close with you.

Now that stupid crush of hers almost got you killed. She almost lost you, the realisation hitting her as she checked inside the gates, helping you off the horse.

“Your back early, did you log the sheets?” Maria spoke, coming over.

“I- we had an incident” ellie spoke, helping adjust your belongings on your body without turning to see the woman. “We’re fine, but there’s definitely some…weird shit going on near the lake up north. Maybe send a group out tomorrow”

Maria was confused by the ominous wording, before even getting to question further, ellie was leading you away. The older woman sighed and looked at her husband, Tommy, handing him the lead of the horse so he could put shimmer in her pen and feed her.

Unlocking the door, she gently helped you inside her garage turned mini apartment a la ellie. Joel let her have her own space, it wasn’t huge, it wasn’t great, but it was Ellie’s, and it was comforting. You both have spent a lot of time in here before now, but for some reason as your boots guide you inside, it feels smaller.

The poor girl is more frightened than you are, patting out the bed, frantic about you. “Here, lay down. Do you want something to eat? Uh, fuck maybe I have some crackers and jam, let me check”

Gaining the courage to speak, you raise your hand, body laid on the bed. “Ellie, I’m fine. Just give me a second.”

She swallows a little hard, nodding. “Sorry.”

You slide the black boots off, tossing them to the floor as your knees are guided to your chest, thinking about what could’ve happened if you did get bit.

Ellie sits in her desk chair, watching you carefully. Eyes grazing along your fragile figure, selfishly so.

“Would you have shot me?”

She blinks “what?”

Taking a moment to look over at her, the garage dimly lit. “If I got bit, and turned into one of those ….things…” your voice shakes a little, “would you have shot me?”

Ellie’s a bit taken back, she takes her coat off and puts it on the hanger nearby, her hands rubbing her thighs in thought. “I…I dunno….I probably couldn’t…i-if im being honest”

“I don’t talk about it much, but it worries me, that one day I won’t be able to escape them” you admit, knees hugged gently as you rest your head against them. “If you weren’t there-….”

She walked over cautiously and sat in front of you, the cushion of the bed sinking with her weight. “But I was…yeah?”

The emotions come out, you felt dramatic. It’s easy to forgot how dangerous shit gets when you stay in your room and collect flowers. “Yea….thank you. For uh..saving me” a stupid stray tear falls down your cheek. You wipe it quickly, knowing you’ve never cried in front of Ellie before. She smiles softly, trying to reassure the pretty girl sitting in front of her.

“I’d never let you get hurt…I’ll always protect you”

You flutter your eyes shut. Something inside you stirring.

“Unfortunately you’re stuck with me” ellie added on, her finger reaching out to rub the side of her wrist, experimentally.

A quiet laugh escaped your mouth, watery eyes opening once more to meet Ellie’s gaze. “That’s not a bad thing…I mean, I quite literally can’t exist out there on my own. It’s kinda pathetic” you sniffled, looking down at Ellie’s comforter. The plaid sheets giving your eyes something to look at rather than her.

“Hey…it’s not pathetic. It’s not ..it’s not fair we have to live this way. Some people aren’t used to it, doesn’t make you weak for not being prepared”

The silky wave of her voice made something in your heart flutter, something about Ellie being gentle with you made you become absolute putty. It was rare she didn’t showcase her tough exterior. I suppose it’s safe to say the close call shot some fear into the both of you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

You watched her again, swallowing. “I’ll be more careful”

With a soft nod, she links her pinky with yours, her gaze down at the interlocked fingers. A soft smile appearing across her face. Truth? She’s scared shitless right now. Vulnerable is not her thing, but it feels fitting with you. Why? She’s fucked.

Sometimes it’s known that heightened emotions of fear can make people think about deeper evaluations of their life. The room was filled with thoughts, racing hearts and hormones.

Your eyes met your joint pinky finger, you brought up your hands slowly, pressing your lips to them.

Ellie watched. Carefully.

You made sure to look at her as you turned her hand, opening it as your lips pressed against the home of her palm. Ellie almost nutted.

“Ellie, I just-”

Before your whispers could become a finished sentence, ellie sprung forward and captured your bottom lip within hers, suckling gently, her calloused and roughed up hands cupping the soft contrast of your rose coloured cheeks.

Your hands immediately shot up to hold each of her wrists, pulling your head back softly with a pant. Your eyes met. There wasn’t awkwardness, and in fact, you didn’t question why your best friend kissed you. There was an unspoken understanding. An unspoken need, you could say. Ellie’s gentle pants met yours, pressing her forehead against you.

Her body heat gave off a wave of arousal within you, one you never knew even existed. Your hands gently lifted her chin, nodding as you watched her eyes….her nose…her lips.

You kissed again, and it was different than the first one. Hungry mouths clashed against one another as you both fought for control. Needing to be closer to each other…to feel you. To feel her.

She ever so gently shoved you back against her pillows. Oh how many times she’s felt dirty, imagining how you’d lay here with her hands rubbing over you, making you feel good. Her own prideful narcissism picturing how she would make you cum, assuming you’d become obsessed and drunken by her touch, and her touch alone.

The imagery compared to what’s real now, is nothing. It’s better, way better. Your hair was so fucking beautiful and sprawled against her pillow, chest rising with uneven breaths as Ellie moved, pressing her knee between your jean covered core. The way your eyelashes fluttered up at her with desire, mouth slightly ajar.

How would she ever move on from that?

Her chapped lips met your soft ones once more, hand gently rubbing along your jaw and neck as she moved to kiss below your ear. With quiet but desperate pants, your hand holding her nape. “Ellie…yes” your voice was airy and sweet, fuck, the sound alone could make Ellie willingly kneel and provide for you. She’d become a housewife and shit, if it meant she’d be able to hear the softness of the moans leaving your fucking lips every day.

She attacked your neck, a mix of kissing, licking and gentle bites. Her knee rutted into you, all you could do is allow it; hands gripping Ellie’s tshirt, as if she’d melt into you. It was hardly recognisable, the movements your body followed, chasing after Ellie’s graze, head tilting back into the pillow, eyebrows raised and eyes shut. “I need you to touch me”

She sat back, you could almost see some of the nervousness return to her gaze for a slight moment before she shook, nodding. “What do you want I’ll do anything ….” She sounds so fucking needy, you could basically feel your underwear sticking to you at this point. “Cmon baby tell me and I’ll do it”

The whispers kissed your ear, you frantically found words, spitting them out in what you thought sounded pathetic. “I- want you to-” you sat up, pausing as you unbuttoned your jeans, overwhelmed.

“Yeah?” She asked, wanting to make sure you wanted her touch. You frantically nodded, taking her hand and guiding it to your jean waistline. She exhales a shakily laugh, almost not believing the power she has right now. She sat up, fingers tugging the fabric down your hips.

The jeans were thrown off the side of the bed, mixing with Ellie’s laundry scattered across the floor. You were the one to take your underwear off, adding it to the pile.

Ellie almost had an aneurism. You were soaked, dripping down the inner part of your thigh- part of her mind wanted to take a mental image and begin drawing it into her horny journal to save it for later. Another part of her wanted to believe she’s the first to be lucky enough to taste it.

“Oh…fuck…” tough fingers ran their way from your hips …to your thighs, parting them more. She had so many things she wanted to say, to make you feel important and loved.

She would tell you later. Her lips met your pussy.

Arching your chest up on the bed, you couldn’t even bare to look down at the girl between your legs, you’re best friend. The moan you let out was of pleasure, but more importantly one of relief. “Aaah…Mmph” hips squirmed around, bucking your folds further against Ellie’s tongue.

To be fair, she’s never eaten a girl out before, but she’s too prideful to admit she learned how from those damn porn tapes Eugene hoarded. She would tell herself she’d probably do it better than a guy, after all, she had the same parts. She knows what feels good.

And yeah, she’s right to think that, with the way you desperately cling to the sheet below you, eyes stuck up on her ceiling. Tiny glow in the dark star stickers are up there, capturing your gaze.

Ellie worked you, moaning against your core, moving her head side to side to try something she saw before, hoping it felt as amazing as it looked. Your arousal tasted sweet, blessing her tongue like dessert and her nose like incense.

She even closed her eyes, focusing on making you cum, the goal to taste it right here on her bed making her dizzy. She rutted her own hips against the mattress, selfishly getting off on your reaction.

“Ellie…els…baby” your whimpers were shy, gathering strength to prop the pillow, sitting up and looking down. You clenched at the sight, she was so into it, sucking your soul out as if she’d never have the opportunity again after this night ended.

You lazily tilted your head to your shoulder, furrowed eyebrows and mouth open, you reached your hands out to ever so lightly brush the brown hair out of Ellie’s face. “That’s good, right…right there ok?”

Praise only made her tongue work harder, despite the tired muscle aching. She made the mistake of gazing up at you, capturing how fucked out you looked. “Mmmph” the vibration of Ellie’s moan against your pussy made you jolt, legs threatening to close against either side of her head. “No…keep them open” her face backed up from your core- chin glistening with your wetness.

Ellie doubled down, using her elbow to keep your thighs apart and out of her way, her focused expression directly on her two fingers, gathering slick as they enter your needy entrance.

“Ahhfuckohmygod” your hand clings to her shoulder as Ellie begins to finger you. She reached upward, knowing what felt good on her as she confidently aimed for a ridged patch amongst your warm walls.

You clenched tightly as she found it. A burning in your lower stomach as you’ve never felt before. “Shit-”

“Mmm…’s that it? Found it didn’t i?” She cockily mumbled, more so to herself. Her own pants becoming uncomfortable, she was so wet.

You bucked up, meeting her fingers thrusts each time. Ellie went deeper, you could see the beads of sweat developing on her hairline. She was determined to make you cum harder than you thought you could.

“Stop closing them baby…” she spit, frustrated as she tried to pay attention to the way your hole sucked her fingers in so needily. You’ve been needing this for a while. Poor thing.

“I’m gonna cum” you whisper, tears filling up the bottom of your vision, making her appearance blurry. You blissfully shut them, mouth agape as endless, nonsensical, words and please fled out.

If you were to look at yourself right now without the horny facade blocking your thinking, you’d probably be ashamed.

But right now? You’re loving it.

Ellie’s strong tattooed arm leans up and pressed on your lower stomach, adding pressure to the spot she reached inside. By the sound of your choked out gasp, she was unsure if she was hurting you. “Oh” she panicked and began to move away, your grasp grabbed her and kept her in place. “No, no no no keep going I’m gonna cum”

Oh. Oh.

With the reassurance, the brunette continues her ministrations, moving to kitty lick against your clit, the feeling of her all fucking over and in you was overwhelming. You cried, not out of sadness, out of desperation.

You gripped her for dear life, hands leaning a bright white mark against the skin of her forearm. “Ohhh I’m cumming”

You lifted your hips a bit, ellie pushed them down as she finished the job, feeling the warmth and movement of your body finishing. It was beautiful, she did that, and she was gonna be cocky about this until the day she died.

“Yesyesyes…yes….”

Ellie smirked against you at the needy tone of your voice, she felt you pulsate and tighten, her wrist soaked…the bed beneath you no longer sanitary to sleep on. She looked up again to see your overwhelmed and exhausted face, she panted, removing her fingers as she pressed her forehead against your thigh, holding onto you as she came.

She came from WATCHING YOU cum. Ellie Williams, everybody.

You would’ve poked fun if you didn’t find it so hot. She rode her hips out against the bed, softly whispering something you couldn’t make out.

Letting the moment sit for a while, your hand gently rubbed her arm, beckoning her to come up to you, she obliged and carefully sat over you, rubbing the skin under your white shirt. “Are you ok…?” There’s your ellie.

With a nod, “I’m ok…I’m good. Are you?” You raised a brow, fingers brushing under her eyes and over her cheek. Ellie nodded, smiling shyly. How dare she be shy right now. “Yeah…”

She cutely nuzzles her nose against yours, fluttering her eyes shut. She peppered gentle soft kisses along your face. Who knew she was a sap after sex….

There’s still some shock within the atmosphere of the poorly lit garage. The air smelling of sweat and sex. This will need to be talked about, but there’s an absent agreement to just be present tonight. Ellie stands up, shakily guiding her legs over to the bathroom as you laid, trying to understand what just happened.

After a moment, you hear the water run. She comes out with a wet cloth, sitting beside you with hesitant eyes. She gestures the cloth up lazily and mumbles, eyes going to your pussy. “Gonna wash…”

The coldness almost makes you hiss, but you welcome the soft and delicate act of her cleaning up. “Thanks…”. The cloth is tossed to the basket, before she climbs next to you, putting a clean blanket over your lower body. Her doe eyes scan over your face, your features as you mimic the action.

“I mean..you’re staying right?” Ellie’s tone is an airy…blissfully dreamy whisper.

You bite your bottom lip, fingers tracing the girls jawline. “I can’t really walk right now to be honest. I think it was your plan to keep me here.” The joke makes Ellie’s eyes crinkle with laughter, her palm rubbing the curve of your hip.

“Alright…I’ll get you some clothes…we can get comfy and sleep…” her voice is hushed against your neck.

Your fingers ran over the back of Ellie’s shirt, eyelashes fluttering your vision as the calmness of the moment overtook you. Suddenly the biggest issue was no longer almost dying earlier, it was falling in love with your best friend.

You both were hopeless, and maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

<3

[binniesbooks]

• MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.2k

pairings classrepresentative!Soobin x bulliedfem!reader

warnings humiliation, slight bully Soobin, bullied reader, fainting, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, recording, oral sex (m. receiving), squirting, name calling (+ if i missed anything)

faye's notes I'M TOTALLY CRAZY! Like seriously! I should stop writing fics out of impulse BAHAHAHAHA this is not proofread, I'm sorry, again, this story is just made impulsively 😭 Soobin should stop posting pictures out of nowhere. I need to write about him immediately because I'm his wife. 😋 No one should do it first before me 😋 I just love Soobin so much and his mirror shots! Fuck. Dead.

p.s. wrote this for more or less 4 hours, wtf

"Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

Soobin is your most hated person in the world, if that's enough to explain. He makes fun of you. He causes you trouble, harm, and danger. But the fact that he's one of the most respected representatives of your class, you can't do anything but let your anger just boil inside you. 

Choi Soobin is not your average type of classmate—enemy. He never fails to be included in the rank list—he's an intelligent and handsome man. He talks so well in front of the class, he gets high scores, he has the fame. You would actually have a crush on him if only he treated you the same way he treats the others.

And you hated your class for always laughing along with him and always tolerating what he does—well, he's actually a good student, you're just not on his "people that I will treat right" list.

"How are you miss 'teacher's pet'?" Soobin would subtly pull a chair to sit in front of your desk, often whispering these things.

"Soobin, please. If you have nothing else to say, move," you would firmly answer him.

"What? Aren't you proud that you know how to find your way under their pants?" he accused.

"I'm not doing any of the sort! I won't commit sexual activities with people other than my soon-to-be husband!" Your voice came out as a squeak as you tried to hold yourself back, but you're seething with anger. 

"Oh, what are you doing anyway? Drawing your idols?" he snickers.

"Choi Soobin--"

"Yes, darling?" his eyes meeting yours with a smirk plastered on his lips. "You know what," he starts, casually tucking your straying hair behind your ear, "If I were you, I would stop doing that, they don't even know you."

You clicked your tongue, swatting his hand away, "Soobin, I swear—"

"Yes, yes, you swear," he snickers once again as he stands up, the sharp scraping sound of the steel chair making your ears hurt, gathering the class' attention. Soobin casually shrugged his shoulders, making your classmates continue what they were doing.

"Listen!" Soobin pounded the podium that afternoon for an announcement—oh yeah, he's the class representative.

"We will be having our annual outdoor activity next week."

With a heavy heart, you sighed. The 5-day trip is your most hated activity. You would go to a camp, pair up with your friends, and do the task together. Not to mention the unending seminars and trainings while you're at it.

Of course, a week won't pass by without Soobin getting into your nerves. You're so fed up with him and his petty attitude towards you, but you don't know it yourself, you just can't find the courage to fight back or at least stand up for yourself. You would always be left with your nails digging into your palms and a boiling blood. 

"Okay guys! Line up! We're getting into the bus! I'm checking the attendance!" It's still so early in the morning and you get to hear his irritating voice again, which you resorted to wearing earphones to at least drown his voice.

However, you were the last one to get in inside the bus, so there are no more available seats to sit down aside from the two-seater in the front. And of course, one of the seats is already occupied. By who? Who else—the Choi Soobin himself.

"Excuse me, does anyone want to trade seats?" you bargained. Only for them to answer with "sorry, I want to sit with my friend" and such. 

"As much as you don't want to sit beside me, I don't want to sit beside a whore and a slut like you," Soobin whispered with a fake smile when you sat beside him. 

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not a whore nor a slut, I don't do explicit activities just like you," you seethed. "I bet you're the type that fucks anyone just to get your dick wet," you whispered, rolling your eyes. Soobin could only laugh at you.

You tried to focus on the road the whole ride. Doing your best to ignore Soobin's huge sleeping figure just beside you. Your eyes flitted to the rearview mirror of the bus, staring a hole at Soobin's head—to kill him—through the reflection. And yes, Soobin actually looks kind and peaceful when he sleeps. There, you silently wished for him to at least be a little less meaner. 

You didn't know you fell asleep. You woke up inside the empty bus. You quickly marched out to look for your classmates. It looks like they are just starting to settle down. You scrambled your way towards the camp, pulling your suitcase. You're lucky one of your male classmates noticed you and had at least the decency to offer a hand. 

When you arrived just by the door, you swear you heard Soobin murmur something behind you like 'look at our pick me girl' or something along the lines. 

After the short orientation, you celebrated a little inside, knowing that the girls and the boys would not share the same room to sleep, at least. And you celebrated further when they announced that the ratio of the room to the student would be 1:1. Basically, you have the privacy you needed, and you don't need to be bothered about having a roommate. 

You were asked to rest for now and just return to the hall in the afternoon to officially start the program. You giggled when you got inside the room. Quickly running to the bedroom and jumping on the bed. 

But then you were startled when you heard laughter and loud voices.

 Oh crap! The walls are thin! 

But that's the least of your concerns; it's not like you would be noisy or something.

The afternoon came quickly, and the program kicked off without flaws. They announced the activities that should be done and the schedule for the meals, including the curfew hours. If you were to be asked? Your answer would be, so far, so good. 

The dinner was also held in the same hall. The organizers did a good job of making use of the tables and chairs in the hall as your dining table and training table.

However, your little happy moment was immediately cut off when Soobin purposely grazed one of the students elbows, making the cold water she was holding be poured over you. Loud gasps from the crowd echoed inside the hall as strings of apology came out of the student's mouth. Your eyes flickered throughout the wide space as you muttered, "It's okay," to the student. Your eyes found Soobin walking away from the scene.

You quickly finished your meal after patting your drenched shirt with a tissue the student offered. After finishing your meal, you have no other choice but to go straight to your room. 

You prayed that tomorrow would be a fine day for you.

Tuesday. Second day of the outdoor activity.

You were grouped into pairs. The organizers taught you about first aid. Orienting you about the things you should and shouldn't do in case of emergency. You and your partner executed every step well. It does show that you have learned everything.

Soobin also did well in their execution. But you noticed about his 'unnecessary' touches to his girl partner. Well, he actually isn't doing anything unnecessary. You're just too overprotective of your body. 

Soobin watched you being mortified with his simple quirks, laughing to himself, judging you and your mind.

Wednesday.

You were grouped into five members. Your next activity was the obstacle course. The sole reason for this is to train your mind to think quickly for a technique that would work and allow you to lead. 

Some of the groups even failed from the start. They couldn't decide which would be the leader. 

On the other hand, Soobin was leading his group at ease. He looks like he knows it, just like the back of his hand. Too familiar with what a leader should do.

Thursday. 

It suddenly rained, so your activity that was supposed to be held on the mountain was postponed and was moved for the next day. Which made your stay eventually longer for another day. The organizers resorted to an indoor activity. Or you could actually call this free time. They allowed everyone to have fun. Everyone was having a blast on their own or with their friends.

You decided to take a short walk while the rain poured hard. You passed by a vending machine and grabbed yourself a drink—which might be wrong because you're too far from the hall now and there's no restroom to be found. 

Your eyes widened when you saw a room, which you guessed was a toilet. But when you opened the door, someone was inside.

"What the fuck?! Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Aaahhhh! Don't you know how to lock?!" you retorted as you froze in your feet and turned your back to the person inside the toiled. 

"Fucking goodness! What the hell are you doing here?!" he zipped his pants up before he turned to you—again, it was Soobin.

"I-i'm looking for a restroom! You should know how to lock the door!" You squealed.

You heard him scoffed, "The lock doesn't work, and..." 

"And?" you questioned, folding your arms in front of you, feigning frustration—but you couldn't hide the fact that your ears were so red. 

"This restroom is not for the girls, weirdo." His lips played a mocking smile. "You're not beating the whore allegations, are you?" He stepped forward, trapping you on the wall, his hand flew to your waist, pinning you.

You tried to push him away, "Get your filthy hands off—H-hah!" 

Your body trembled, and your knees became wobbly when he pressed his hand against your lower abdomen. 

"S-soobin... Your... Your hand..." You tried to pry his hand away, but to no avail. Soobin just pressed it further, making the hair of your body stand up. 

"S-soobin... Please... Y-your h-hand," you stuttered. You felt a few drops of the hot liquid flow out from you.

Soobin pulled his hand away, leaving you slumped on the floor, shaking. "You're so easy," he chuckled before he left.

You didn't almost make it to the toilet. The moment you let it out, you felt tears run down your cheeks. Maybe because of humiliation, or anger, or arou—there's no way!

That night, you chose not to eat dinner, you stayed inside your room. However, someone knocked on your door. You didn't want to open it at first, but the person behind kept on knocking. When you opened the door, there's no person in the hallway. But a food was left beside your door. Your name was written on the water bottle and the packaging of the meal, just like the other meals you ate the past few days. You decided to eat it, not bothering to think whether it's poisoned or whatever.

Friday. The supposed to be last day of the outdoor activity. 

It was a team activity again. The survival. Your team must survive for at least one day in the mountains. You were supposed to look for foods in the wild, to survive a day or night in the mountains. The team is composed of four members. And lucky you, you were teamed up with Soobin. 

You tried your best to be as distant as possible. Just looking at him makes you remember everything that happened last night. 

Everything was going well from the start. Three of you were girls, and you all agreed that Soobin would be the leader of the group.

You made a small port for the four of you to rest, you found fruits that can be eaten, and you gathered the woods for the fire you were supposed to make later.

However, Soobin wasn't expecting something like this to happen—for you to faint out of exhaustion. You are actually weak-hearted, which makes you easily dizzy and tired when doing extra workloads. 

"Soobin! Y/n fainted!" 

"What?!" Soobin quickly ran towards the three of you. The other girls are panicking about you. "Fuck!" he muttered as he tried to wake you up. "Y/n wake up!"

"This won't do! You guys continue our task; I'll bring her to the camp. Please take care of yourselves up here, okay?"

Soobin carried you on his back, walking and running down the mountain as fast as he could. He was assisted by the organizers, but the program wasn't perfect at all! There are no nurses around. 

So Soobin got no choice but to bring you to his assigned room and take care of you instead—class representative duties, right?

"God fucking damn it!" he huffed as he laid you down on the floor, and he was chasing his breath. 

He washed himself first, cleaning out the dirt that clung to his body. Then he grabbed some of his extra clean shirts for you to change into. He wiped you clean with a wet towel and wanted to change your clothes, but he decided not to do it or you would make a fuss. Then he carefully laid you down on his bed, keeping you warm.

One of the teachers knocked and checked on him. He was also told that the activity was cancelled and they made the students go back. The teacher was relieved to know that you were fine and that you're resting.

You woke up with him sitting beside you. "W-where are we? What happened?" you weakly asked. 

"You're finally awake," he sighed. "You fainted." 

He then passed you a packet of sugar and some water. "Drink this, I have nothing else to offer."

After a few minutes, you felt yourself recover a bit. It wasn't that bad, you're just too exhausted. 

"Let's go back," you said as you rose from the bed and walked towards the door.

"Look at this attention seeker," he scoffed.

"What the fuck are you saying again?! I just fainted!" you yelled back.

"That's right! You just fainted, and you want to go back in the mountains? For what? For our classmates to carry you and let them touch your body? Or for the teachers to give you extra credits for being a 'good girl'?" Soobin's brow furrowed as he raised his voice.

"What did you say?" You walked closer to him.

"That you're a slut, a whore, and an attention seeker. Simple as that."

Soobin smirked as he watched you dug your nails onto your palm again.

"What? Am I wrong?" 

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up to him with gritted teeth.

"You're... You're totally wrong..." you sniffled.

"Then show me you aren't like that," he says.

"W-what?" 

Soobin sat on the bed as he watched you. "Get on your knees for me," he smirked. "Show me you are not a teacher's fuck toy."

"Prove it, so I won't tell the class you soiled your pants last night," he finishes.

You didn't know what came over you. You just found yourself kneeled down between his legs as you tried your hardest to suck him.

Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

You pulled away. "S-stop recording," you muttered.

"No, this is for the records. A proof that you aren't a teacher's pet," he grinned before guiding your head back to his cock.

"You're such a whore," he snickers as he zooms in to your face. "Fucking good, with this pretty face," he muttered.

He shoved your face down, practically fucking your throat, not giving a fuck at how you gagged. Then he pulled you away as he shot his cum on your face.

"Ohh fuck! Fuck! Ahh!" His body trembled as he finally came, his phone shaking in the process. 

Pressing the stop button, he tossed his phone on the bed and pulled you up on his lap, crashing his lips against yours as his hand wandered on your body, groping and squeezing any part.

"Need to be inside you, you slut," he whispered between the kisses.

"'m n-not," you whimpered. His hand finally settled on your waist, and he grinds you above him.

"Look how hard you make me," he said, his teeth grazing your neck.

"S-soobin... Stop... W-we shouldn't be doing—ahh...mpph.."  Your soft moans and whines are music to his ear.

"Shhh, be quiet for me, okay?" he said, giving your chin a kiss. He slips his hand under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side.

"See? You're a total whore, y/n. You're wet."

Too embarrassed, you hide on his neck, hugging him closer. He easily lifted your hips and slid himself inside you with so much ease as you whimpered on his ear.

"T-this is w-wrong.. Ahh.. please..."

"Wrong?" he questioned, tilting your face to look behind you, only to be met with your own eyes. Soobin manhandled you with ease and turned you around instead. Your back flushed against his chest as he spread and held your legs up. 

"Watch how your hungry pussy suck my cock," he whispered to your ear as the both of you watched yourselves in the mirror. Your ears turned red out of embarrassment as you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself to moan.

"Be quiet, okay? The others are back," he said, kissing your ear. Your hands clasped over your mouth, the squelching sound was the only thing to be heard. 

"I love how dirty you are, fuck, you turn me on so much," he grunts, hitting deeper places inside you.

"B-bin..." you whined, tears rolling down your cheek. 

"S-something's g-gonna.... Ahhh... S-soobin, please..."

"You're close, doll? Cum on my cock, then," he smirks.

"N-no wait! Wait!" you squirmed, trying to get off of him, but he's too strong for you.

"S-soobin please w-wait---" Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy in a squirting manner because of his cock still deep inside you. Your body started twitching when he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

"Gonna fill you. 'M gonna fill you to the brim, fuck you're so fucking tight!" Soobin hides behind your neck as he finishes inside you, his grip on your thighs tightened.

"B-bin... I feel like... 'm gonna... F-faint..." Your body was slumped on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you, a glob of his cum coming out from your spent folds. He then laid you down on his bed again and lays beside you as he tucked the both of you to bed. 

The problem for tomorrow is for tomorrow. He's now on cloud nine, feeling so good as he lays beside his favorite girl crush.

@binniesbooks 2024

[g0g-urt]

Fault Lines

Im hoping to actually commit to this one unlike the other ones I wrote lol and im getting comfortable writing on here now and trying to find my style since ive never really wrote fics😭🙏

Summary: Your a professional women’s tennis player who has a doubles charity match at AO with someone familiar..

The moment you stepped onto the red clay courts of Alicante the sun blazed your face like it was burning you. It was warm, and a bit blinding. A very familiar sensation you feel as you train daily to become the world’s best.

You didn’t come here to play around or have fun, it was a punishment the second you came. Or at least it felt like it.

“You have a few weeks here.” Your coach stated. “You need to focus, and strive to be better. This is where your season will start”

Unfortunately, “this” meant him.

Carlos fucking Alcaraz.

The most favored guy on the men’s tour. Where everyone bowed down to him and treated him like some golden boy. You would see him everywhere. In his campaigns, billboards and all over the internet. It was absolutely infuriating.

And now he’s here. Standing right next to you. Shirtless of course.

You sat on the bench watching him hit down the line forehands and backhands over and over again repeatedly like there was no tomorrow. All of them being hit with absolute precision and power. He looked over as he felt your eyes on him. And he smirked. He fucking smirked.

Smirking like he knew something you didn’t.

Like he remembered something.

Your throat tightened.

You should’ve never let him take you to his hotel room during that one after party in Monte Carlo. You shouldn’t have let him kiss you on that balcony. You shouldn’t have followed him into his room and let him fuck you.

It was one night, one mistake. A stupid, but breathless and perfect mistake. You spent months burying that night in the ground, trying to forget, but you just never did.

And now he’s here. Tanned muscles with glistening sweat on them.

He jogged off the court to get a towel and wiped his face and hair with it. You tried not to look. Tried to forget how it felt with your fingers tangled in his roots. But it was too late.

“Didn’t think you would actually show up today.” His voice was low and he acted like nothing had ever happened between you. And thank god for that.

“I’m here to train. Nothing more.” You wanted to seem harsh. To seem like you had changed and become more mature. But inside, you didn’t feel that way.

He grinned, that look on his face was so infuriating, “And I’m not?”

He took a step closer. You felt something shift in the air. Charged and filled with tension. You crossed your arms to try seem more relaxed.

“Guess the universe hates me”

He chuckles before leaning in a bit closer. “Maybe, or it could be something else.” He shrugs and puts that annoying look on his face.

You glared at him while he eyed your body up and down. You swore you could feel something in your stomach.

“Still mad at me?” He asked, his voice a bit softer now.

“No,” shit. Why would you say that? It was too late to take it back now. The truth is, you are mad at him. But it was like the universe threw you into his orbit like some sick joke. A joke you didn’t find funny at all.

“Good.” he muttered “Because I definitely don’t regret it.”

Your heart stopped.

He winked and grabbed his bag and began casually walking towards the locker rooms like nothing happened. What an idiot.

You stood for too long with the racket loosely held in your hand, just watching him fade into the distance. You swore you were over him, right? Over him. Over the way he made you feel. But you couldn’t function. Not when he was near, breathing the same air as you.

Nothing had changed.

The Monte Carlo balcony.

The champagne.

His fingers gripping your waist.

The way he said your name like it was a secret.

Your stomach twisted

Nobody knew about that night. Not your coach, not his coach, not even your friends. You thought you could run away from it.

But Carlos would never let you run away from that day.

“Hello?? Earth to Y/n!” Your coach snapped you out from your thoughts. “C’mon we need to continue our drills.”

“Sorry… I zoned out for a second.” you scratched your neck and headed back to the net for volley drills.

You tried to focus. You really did. But everything just seemed to go downhill. You shanked at least ten balls, you missed an uncountable amount, and the rest were with horrible form. Your coach is staring at you like you’ve gone insane.

“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod to his question and continue volleying, trying to gain more focus.

What you don’t know is, Carlos is watching from a distance. Chuckling to himself and watching the effect he left in you.

You turn to look. And there he is. Just standing there, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his lips. You want to disappear. You know he saw how he left you feeling. It was like a game to him. A really annoying one.

You wanted to hate him.

You should’ve hated him

But part of you wanted him. Wanted him to come back. Talk to you. Anything besides leaving with a wink and coming back to watch your embarrassing shots that he caused earlier on.

————————————

You finished your practice a few hours ago and now you’re at the academy’s provided gym, on a mat doing half-hearted stretches. You can see the sun set through the big glass windows that act as walls for the place. All the other players have completed their trainings and are at their cottage resting. You were alone. Or at least you thought you were.

Carlos stepped in, still damp from his earlier shower. He looks hot… his hair wet and messy, his hoodie slightly clinging to his damp body and a towel over his neck.

You cursed under your breath. Of course he just had to be here.

He spotted you and smirked. Not cocky like he usually does. A more softer and relaxed one. Like he’s happy to see you.

“Nice… volleys today.” He giggles jokingly.

“Well thanks. Didn’t know that shanking a volley was good. Especially at this level.” Your head hung low, embarrassed from how bad they were compared to your usual composed self.

He grabbed a mat from the small storage box from the corner and set up right next to you.

He began copying your stretches while gazing at you from time to time.

“I miss the connection we had.” He says out of nowhere. Completely uncalled for actually.

You flinched before you could respond. “That was all a mistake. It was never meant to happen.”

He tilted his head, “So why does it feel like you want it again?”

The silence was loud and unbearable.

You opened your mouth to respond and right before your voice came out—

“Y/n, your physiotherapist is waiting for you.” The academy staff member entered the room at the very wrong moment and called for you.

As you got up to leave, Carlos gave you one last smile and muttered, “These next few weeks are going to be fun…”

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Hay 👋 I have a request if you don't mind.

So I love crows. They are very smart and loyal, hold grudges and debts. They can learn to talk and are smart like a 5 or 4 year old human. It also seems that they are getting Smarter. Also dangerous. They gard nests of Robin's from predators and when the eggs hatch they kill and eat the babies. They teach each other and their babies even about who is good and who is bad. They are also known for adopting. I found a video of a crow who adopted a kitten, the crow protects and brings insects and meat to the kitten.

I'd like to ask for a yandere Batfam with a meta reader who turn to a crow.

Imagine it's being a bat!mom or more so a crow!mom. Or maybe a sibling. Imagine them being one of the older siblings.

It's up to you actually.

Ahhhh this is such a cute idea! thank you for requesting this! I'll try my best to write this idea! I've been researching some facts about crows for some deeper ideas and I found that crows are highly social and mostly stay in groups, consisting of family members and other crows who are mutually benefited, where even juvenile crows help their parents raise their young and parents mate for life. Crows are also very goal oriented and understand cause and effect, so they do certain things to get a certain outcome. crows are actually so cool lol! Anyways I did so much research for this on both crows and the batfam time line so I hope you all enjoy!

P.S. I wrote this in 2nd compared to the 1st person i wrote my main fic in because i wanted to play a bit with povs so i hope you don't mind.

Birds of a Feather

(Yandere Batfam x Meta Crowmom Reader)

!!TW!! Choking!! Cursing!! Mentions of Cheating!! Death!! This is an AU!!

You and Bruce met long ago, you were just a young fledgling with no one to call family. You're parents long abandoned you, raising a meta was not what they signed up for, leaving you to fend for yourself in the cruel alleyways of Gotham. You were savaging for food in a nearby garbage bin when you heard a loud

BANG!

The startling noise was followed by the broken sobs of a young boy. You carefully flew over and gazed solemnly upon the tragic scene, having seen the cruelty of Gotham's streets before you understood the gravity of death. you softly placed a wing upon the boy's shaking shoulders offering some comfort in such a heartbreaking moment. The boy had something you never did, a loving family, and it was taken so cruelly in an instant. you sat with the boy for what seemed like hours, cooing a soft melody of bittersweet comfort, until the worried yells of another human interrupted the scene spurring you to fly away. Despite the young boy's cries for you to come back you never did, but he never forgot about the young crow girl who provided a sweet song of hope when he needed it most.

Years go by before he sees you again, you were savaging through the hidden dark alleys of Gotham as usual when you heard the soft voice of a familiar boy. You turn around to see him, he had grown into a striking young man with sharp manly features and clean expensive clothing hinting to immense wealth.

"Do you remember me?"

He spoke softly as if he were in a dream, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

"Of course how could I forget... You were the young boy who lost his family in front of his eyes..."

The man closed his eyes, exhaling in relief and ecstasy before opening his eyes once again to gaze at your beautiful figure.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this... come home with me."

Your eyes widened and your breath hitched... home?... did you deserve such a thing?... You looked down at your monstrous claws and your dark ragged feathers, you ran your tongue across your sharp dangerous teeth, and you closed your eyes to hide your inhuman black eyes.

"I-I can't... I'm a monster..."

Your eyes shot open when a calloused gentle hand caressed your face while the other held one of your claws.

"You're beautiful... These narrow arched claws, beautiful... these smooth sleek feathers, beautiful... those straight white teeth, beautiful... and most of all, your glossy onyx eyes.... beautiful..."

You couldn't help but cry, no one has called you beautiful before... With nothing more said you went home with him in comfortable silence.

You came to learn that his name was Bruce, a strong name fitting such a strong soul, you couldn't help but always call his name with softspoken adoration. When Bruce learned your name was (Y/N) he wasn't any better, always looking for any excuse to call your name with endearment. It broke his heart to have to keep up his playboy persona while his sweet bird waits at home for him but he did not have a choice. Oh how he longed to proudly announce to the world that his love was a gorgeous crow woman and have a grand luxurious wedding to show your everlasting love. It crushed him to keep the relationship a secret and grit his teeth as other women touched and flirted with him at galas, he wanted nothing more than to be home with you. It was even worse seeing your face at your small private wedding with him, you were so content with something so small even though you deserved the world. The nights made up for it all, breezing through the streets of Gotham and fighting crime with you was the highlight of his day. It was Batman and Crowwoman for life, he made sure you were safe from public harm and hate for being a meta by keeping you a secret during the day and showing you off to the world and fighting alongside you at night. You loved to collect little trinkets for your little nest with Bruce during the day and you milked every moment with him at night, soaring through the skies and fighting crime. Life was great you had a warm home, delicious food, a kind butler, nice clothes tailored to fit you, and a loving sweet husband, but you couldn't stop the creeping loneliness from hurting your isolated soul. You understood why no one but Bruce and Alfred could know about you but crows were naturally social creatures. The crows you spoke with tell you stories of the lively parks of Gotham filled with loud children, laughing friends, warm parents, and the bustling sounds of life. The manor was quiet and dreary during the day despite all of your efforts to make the manor feel homely, it was no job for a singular person. Something was missing... and that missing piece was finally found with the arrival of a certain young boy.

When Bruce brought Richard home and explained the young boy's past you rushed to embrace the boy in your soft feathers ushering Bruce to quickly adopt him. You showered the boy in your love, sending the boy off to school with the best homecooked meals you could make, filling his room up with toys and trinkets, and always spending time with him when you could. When little Dick first became Robin you were hesitant at first, not wanting your precious little bird to get hurt, but once he proved himself as capable you were overjoyed. Now you'd all have family bonding time fighting crime together, with Bruce zooming though the streets in the Batmobile and Dick flying with you on your back. There was even a sweet girl, Barbara, who became Batgirl. The family was growing, but then there was an accident and Dick was shot in the shoulder by Joker, afraid that in the future he might get worse you and Bruce decided to end his career as Robin. But there's something that no one has told you before, parenting is hard, and so after Dick continued his vigilante life with the Teen Titans as Nightwing he and his father had a fallout and he left. You were distraught after Dick left, although you both stay in contact, it's just not the same.

"Baby bird please come home you know your father didn't mean what he said."

"I'm sorry mama but I'm not a kid anymore... I'll come visit you sometime but that's not my home anymore..."

You were inconsolable, your cries only dying down when you slept in the small nest you made in Dick's old room with Bruce cradling you in his arms humming your special song.

You found new meaning when Bruce once again adopted a new orphan, Jason. The little boy was such an adorable ball of sunshine you couldn't help but spoil him rotten with all of life's joys you could provide. You still missed Dick and the Deja vu would hit you hard when Jason flew with you on your back as the new robin, just as Dick used to do... but after a long call with Dick where you cried and confessed that you felt like you were replacing him, Dick assured you that he's not sad or mad but actually happy that you're happy once again with another child to keep you company. Jason made the manor feel so warm and lively with his sweet childlike antics, you couldn't help but adore the child but also worry for him. One day your worst fear came true, during a mission another accident happened, but unlike Dick, Jason didn't survive and Barbara became paralyzed. Your whole world came crashing down the day your sweet little innocent Jason died, this time even Bruce's gentle embraces and comforting words couldn't console you. The manor's crows mourned with you as you sat in front of his grave through rain and snow, your wails and songs of mourning could be heard miles away. The atmosphere in the manor shifted after that, Bruce drowned himself in work and you stopped going with him on missions opting to stay in front of Jason's grave instead. Bruce could only watch you wail and scream in front of Jason's grave through his office window, his heart shattering for their lost child and his heartbroken wife.

"MY BABY COME BACK MY BABY DON'T LEAVE MAMA ALONE PLEASE BABY COME BACK!"

Salvation came with the arrival of Tim, a smart boy who longed for the loving embrace of a family who wanted him. The young boy passed the barrier around you and Bruce's heart becoming another member of the tragic Wayne family. Traumatized by what happened to your last two children you were extra protective of Tim, and thankfully Tim found your protectiveness endearing but when it came too much he was sure to tell you. You and Tim bonded through making new gadgets to use during missions, and although you don't go out on missions anymore, you stay at the manor with Barbara, now Oracle, and watch over Bruce and Tim making sure they're safe. Soon yet another sweet girl joins and becomes the new Batgirl. Cassandra, such a quiet yet smart and talented girl, it was nice having yet another girl in the family. Life was finally setting into a better comfortable rhythm... but nothing can last.

Jason returns and you can barely recognize your poor child. He was covered in scars and his eyes were filled with rage and hatred. The buried sorrow from his death resurfaced with vengeance and your sorrow grew as he accused you and Bruce of replacing him with Tim. You cried and begged him to believe you, that you'd never replace him, and after many arguments and a few injuries due to his lash outs, he finally came to believe you. You wouldn't let him go after he accepted your affection once again, and to be honest he didn't want to let go either. It was heaven being reunited and bonding with your lost child, tracing over each other's scars and reminiscing.

"I missed you mama... I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay baby... it was never your fault... never..."

Once again everything was getting better, and there was yet another member added to the ever-growing family. Stephanie was another incredibly intelligent girl you had meaningful conversations with and worked with during missions. Everyone fit so perfectly into the complete puzzle that was the Wayne family. The puzzle was finally complete and gone was the devastating loneliness you once had, or so you thought... because out of no where came a puzzle piece with such a big impact it could break the puzzle as whole. Damien Wayne... That small boy brought all of your relationship problems with your oh-so-perfect husband crashing down. Bruce, the same man who held you so tenderly whispering sweet words of love and devotion, had cheated on you. You screamed and wailed tearing apart your nest and cawing in hatred and betrayal. You were so distraught, but you never fought with Bruce in front of your children. You tried to make peace with Damien but he only drew his sword and spit out hateful words of how you'd never be his mother. You looked to your other children for comfort but they only gave excuses for Damien and Bruce. They only wanted to keep the family together but in the process they were breaking your heart. You were confused and heart broken, you couldn't understand why the family whom you gave unconditional love and care to were treating you like this. The crows of the manor seemed to be the only ones on your side, they were also confused on how your mate could've betrayed you like this and how your family could take his side. Hatred filled your broken heart and you lashed out, screaming and clawing at Bruce begging for answers.

"WHY WHY WHY WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? TO US? HOW COULD YOU!? YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I HATE YOU!"

"I'm sorry... It was a mistake... I'll fix it..."

"YOU CAN'T FIX THIS!...I-I WANT A DIVORCE!"

Bruce went deadly silent after your words, his eyes dead and hollow.

"...What did you say?"

The coldness in his voice and the way his aura shifted dangerously made you feel uncertain.

"I-I said I wanted a divorce..."

You spoke softer, stepping backward in caution as Bruce began to dangerously advance toward you. His large calloused hand shot out to wrap around your throat leaving you to helplessly squawk and flail.

"We are not getting a divorce"

Despite the finality of his words you would never stay with a cheater. You clawed and flailed until he let go due to a particularly deep cut to his arm. Once let go you quickly flew away not looking back. Despite the man's screams for you to come back you never did, but he never forgot about his sweet wife whom he needed back in his arms.

You lived your life once again in the alleyways of Gotham, you always mourned the loss of your once perfect family but they were the ones who betrayed you. With no one nearby, you flew around an abandoned building looking for food until you were suddenly shot in a wing causing you to squawk loudly in surprise and pain. You crashed into the hard concrete below, ripping out feathers and scratching your tender flesh as you fell.

"I'm sorry ma I had to... I was wrong before please forgive me... You're the best mom I could ever have."

"D-Damien..?"

"Shhh ma don't talk too much you're hurt. Bruce and the others are coming they'll help you okay."

You couldn't help but weakly stare at the young boy in shock. Your heart beat rapidly and you nearly peed from fear, Bruce... he's coming... Was he going to punish you for running away? The way he had choked you when you threatened divorce proves that he isn't past hurting you... God you were so scared... You tried to get up to fly away but that only resulted in you flopping heavily back onto the ground and Damien worriedly trying to get you to lay back down and stay still. You tried to get back up but you suddenly felt an excruciating pain in your head and a loud

SMACK!

And everything went dark.

When you woke up you were in an all-too-familiar room... It was you and Bruce's old shared bedroom. You had bandages covering your head, wing, and any other places with injury. You were locked in the room, but that wasn't the only this that caused you great distress. You looked down at your wings and found that your wings have been clipped. You let out a loud distressed scream alerting the other inhabitants of the manor. Bruce and your children burst into your room with worried and disheveled looks.

"My love is everything okay!? Are you hurt!?"

"MY WINGS MY WINGS MY WINGS!"

Bruce only gave you a sympathetic look and moved to hold you in his arms to comfort you. Your children only watched silently as you shook and cried in despair.

"I'm sorry my love but it had to be done... We can't have you flying away my little crow... This is your home I even adopted another child for you to take care of since I know you love taking care of children. His name is Duke you'll love him... We won't ever let you go ever again..."

Bruce cooed and cradled you in his arms as he sang you your special song. The same song that you sang to him when he lost his parents, the same song he sang to you when Dick left, the same song you sang to Jason at his grave, a song of despair and loss now come back to haunt you just as it always has.

Divider credits: popmilky and k1ssyoursister

Author's note: Wow this is the longest I've ever written lol. This was super fun nevertheless and I'm glad that this was my first request. Like I said this is the first request I got but I still have more to write but I will be writing those soon as well as the next chapter of my main fic so stay tuned! Like always thank you all for reading and I hope y'all have a good day/night.

[ayselluna]

Spawn Astarion Recommendations!

So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.

I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))

I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!

The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!

The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!

Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!

Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!

Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))

Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!

Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!

The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!

An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~

I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.

Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!

[morgana-larkin]

No one asked for this but I wrote it anyway because I can. Obviously it’s based off the line “I’d eat her ass.” I decided to dip my toe into something anal, I never thought about writing anything like that because I personally am not into that. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I have 4 other fics on the go including ‘Mine’ and ‘Worth It’! Also I noticed a couple people requested to have a reader that’s taller than Mel in their prompts, so I’m sorry to everyone that’s taller than Lisa. I am not one of those people as I’m 5’1 which is why I usually write a shorter reader.

Something New

Warnings: Smut, sexual teasing, switch reader and Mel, strap ons, ass eating

Words: 3k

“Thank goodness the volunteers get here today.” Janine says as she fixes her cup of coffee then goes to sit down. “It is so weird how we all fall behind after break when we get back.”

“Yeah, not me, I’m good.” Melissa says and you look at her briefly before going back to your lesson plan.

“I’m actually ahead of schedule.” Barb says proudly and with a smile.

“Well I’m behind.” You say and Melissa looks at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could help you.” She asks.

“Because I don’t need help, I’m good doing it myself.” You tell her and she tilts her head.

“You’re so stubborn.” She says and you roll your eyes.

“You’re one to talk.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you with a smile.

“I need help with my vents. Some of the seats are too cold, others too hot. It’s a whole Goldilocks sitch.” You hear Jacob say.

“You know if a girl came into my house and ate my porridge, and slept in my bed, I’m eating her ass.” Melissa says randomly and you all look at her with a shocked and confused face. “To be clear, in this hypothetical, I’m a bear.” She says and you all still give her a weird look. “The animal.” She adds and you burst out laughing. “What are you laughing at?” Melissa asks as she turns to look at you.

Before you get a chance to answer, Ava announces that the volunteers have arrived and you all go to greet them. While on the way there, she wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close.

“So what were you laughing about?” She asks again.

“I’ll tell you after.” You say and then reach the volunteers. You all greet them and then Ava gets them to work after a brief encounter. You and Melissa make your way to her classroom and then she slips her glasses on and starts going through paperwork.

“So what were you laughing about earlier?” She asks and you smirk.

“You.” You simply say and she looks at you.

“What about me?” She asks as she gets up and starts handing out a piece of paper to each desk.

“You said you’d eat a girl’s ass.” You bluntly say as she continues handing out the paper.

“And? I was telling the truth.”

“Oh? So you’re interested in eating ass?” You ask her mischievously and she stops to look at you.

“You know I meant that I would eat a girl whole, because I would be a bear.” She says and you smirk.

“So you’d go to town on an ass? You animal.” You say and she scoffs out.

“Go get ready for your class Y/n.” She says with a shake of her head.

“There’s still 5 minutes left.” You tell her after checking the time and you lean against her desk as you face her as she’s handing out papers. She walks up to you after a few seconds and traps you between her and her desk.

“Get to your class hon.” She says and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. You smile at her before nodding your head.

“Alright, don’t miss me too much.” You tell her and then leave and she chuckles slightly at you.

The bells rings for lunch and you bring your class to the caf before you head to the break room.

“Does anybody else think there’s something seriously off about these volunteers?” Gregory asks as you enter the break room.

“Long morning hon?” Melissa asks as you slump down in your seat and you nod.

“Not only is taking care of first graders tiring, but that Dennis guy, the one who doesn’t show his face on camera, keeps asking me out to this gross bar with like 300 one star reviews.” You tell her and everyone looks at you.

“He what?” Melissa asks and you give her a look that says ‘leave it be’. “Wait, a gross bar in south?” Melissa asks as she has a curious look on her face and you nod. “I knew I knew those schulbs.” She says as she packs the lid on her salad and gets up. “Guys come on.” She says and everyone gets up. “You too Y/n.” She adds and helps you up. “Hey, you guys own that Paddy’s Pub, that’s the skeeviest bar I ever been to.” She says and then Dennis goes to leave but she grabs his arm. “And you, stop asking my girlfriend out.” She says and they all look at Melissa. Dennis immediately nods with a look of fear on his face.

“Melissa, let go of his arm.” You tell her and you have to peel her hand off of his arm. Once she lets go of his arm you have to hold her back with an arm around her waist. “You’ve already told him off, honey.” You tell her and she looks at you and calms down.

Melissa wraps an arm around you for the entire conversation to keep you close to her, and to let other people know you’re claimed. After the conversation, you and Melissa walk back to the break room with you holding hands with her.

“So you got a little jealous over there.” You tell her and she groans.

“Well I can’t have people thinking you don’t belong to me, no matter what.” She says and you smile at her.

“Well maybe you can use some of that jealousy tonight?” You tell her.

“Oh ya, and anything specific that you have in mind?” She asks.

“Well how about we try something that you mentioned earlier?” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“And what did I mention earlier?” She asks and you hum.

“Well you mentioned something about eating ass.” You tell her and she whips her head at you.

“I was talking about killing, nothing sexual.”

“I know, still doesn’t mean that my mind didn’t go places.” You say with a smirk and she shakes her head at you.

“You’re really a wonder, you know that?” She says and you giggle as you reach the break room and sit down.

“You haven’t said yes or no.” You tell her and she snorts.

“I’ll think about it.” She says as she continues eating.

“Well, don't take too long.” You tell her and then you take the bite of food off of her fork and she gasps in disbelief.

“Are you always going to take my food?” She asks and you smile.

“I will until you stop me.” You tell her and she sighs.

“Then you’re always going to take my food then.” She says and you smirk.

“So you’re not going to stop me?” You ask and take a tomato and eat it.

“You know I won’t.” She tells you. “I take it as a compliment, you like my food better.” She adds you and she wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh.

“I do like eating something you make better.” You tell her and you hear Barb cough and you see Melissa blushing. You then lean and whisper in her ear. “I love eating all those juices you make.” You pull back and you see her eyes darken. “But yes I do love your food as well.”

“I know, that’s why you always steal my food.” She tells you and then switches her salad with yours. “There, no need to steal it now.” She says and then takes a bite of the food.

“You’re sweet.” You say and then lean in near her ear. “I hope you taste sweet after school.” You say and you hear her breathing hitch before you pull back.

“J-Jacob.” She says and you see Jacob turning around to look at her.

“Ya.” He says and Melissa looks at you before answering him.

“Get lost after school.” She says and Jacob sees you smirking.

“Again? Why can’t you go to Y/n’s place?” He complains with.

“Because I live in an apartment and my neighbours already told me that we were really loud and to keep it down next time.” You tell him and Melissa smiles proudly before taking a bite of your food.

“You can spend the afternoon with me, Jacob.” Janine offers and Jacob nods.

“Thanks.” He says.

You quietly take off a shoe and carefully bring your foot to Melissa’s thigh. Melissa flinches and accidentally hits the leg of the table and you retract your foot immediately as everyone looks.

“You ok Melissa?” Janine asks and Melissa nods before glaring at you, while you just happily eat the salad she gave you, unfazed by her glares anymore.

“I’m fine.” Melissa says. “Just got itchy, moved my leg too far.” She quickly covers and everyone nods before going back to their food.

As you all walk to the caf, she pulls you in close to her. “You played dirty in there.” She tells you and you look at her with a smile.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You tell her innocently.

“What you do to me at work determines what I do to you in bed.” She says and you blush immediately before reaching the caf. “Alright my little eagles, line up in a straight line.” Melissa tells her class and she then glances at you as you’re helping a student pack up their lunch while the others get in a line.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” One student asks her and she looks at them and nods her head. “Why do you always look at Ms. Y/l/n?” They ask her and Melissa feels heat rise to her cheeks at being caught.

“Just making sure she’s ok as we’re friends.” She tells them and sees you looking over with a smile as you heard the conversation.

“Just making sure I’m ok?” You ask her as she’s right across from you.

“Yes, I do that.” She says and you hum as you watch your class walk in the classroom.

“You know I was thinking about something. How would you feel about doing a combined movie together with our classrooms today?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“Why?”

“Well you want to show your class a movie and I need to catch up on work.” You tell her and she thinks about it.

“Alright, sure. Bring them over in an hour.” She tells you and you nod before going back to your classroom.

In an hour you bring your class over with all their stuff and they all sit on the mat or a free chair in the classroom. You brought your chair over and you sit by Melissa as you start catching up on your work. Melissa finishes all of her work 20 minutes into the movie and then she starts helping you with yours. You go to protest but she stops you before you do.

“Don’t even think about saying no.” She says sternly and then you shut your mouth and let her help you. You and Melissa catch up on your work and then you both watch the last 10 minutes of The Incredibles.

Everyone gets their things ready to leave and you both stand outside her class as the students are getting picked up or they walk to the school bus.

“Ready to go home?” She asks as the last student leaves and you nod. She locks up her classroom and then she grabs your hand as you walk to her car. You both put your bags in the backseat and then you wrap your arms around her waist before she goes to the driver’s seat. “Whatcha doing hon?” She asks and you hum before kissing her.

“I’ve had to wait to do that all day.” You complain and she giggles.

“The torture.” She jokes and you nod.

“It is, specially since I’m right across the hall from you.” You tell her and then kiss her again.

“Get a room you dorks.” Ava says as she passes by you both. You both pull away with a smile before getting in the car and she drives you home.

As soon as you take your shoes and jacket off, she excitedly pulls you to her room and you squeeze her ass on the stairs.

She takes your shirt and bra off before pushing you on the bed. She then takes the rest of your clothes off and she looks at you with a smile, as you’re completely bare on her bed. She gets on her knees and pulls you close to the side of the bed.

She dives down to your pussy and starts licking your entrance as you moan out. She then moves up to your clit and sticks two fingers in your entrance. You reach out and grab the back of her head to keep her there. She hums at that and it vibrates on your clit and you buck your hips. She does some hard sucks on your clit and you gasp out.

After a couple minutes you feel your orgasm building and you start grinding her face and you feel her smile. She lets you keep doing that even though it’s occasionally blocking off her air supply. She starts curling her fingers inside of you and you scream out.

“Melissa, I’m so close!” You scream and she gives your clit hard sucks until you come. While coming down from your high, Melissa gets up and flips you on your stomach. “Melissa, what are you- oh my god!” You get cut off as she goes back down on your knees and starts licking your ass.

Some of your juices dripped down to your ass when you came and she had no problem licking all of that up. She keeps your ass cheeks spread open as she keeps licking the hole over and over again. You moan out as the new sensation feels amazing and wonder why you never thought of this before.

“Does this feel good baby?” She asks.

“Yes, keep going.” You tell her quickly and she dives back down.

“Rub your clit baby.” She tells you and you bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing it. You start moving your hips after about 30 seconds as you feel your orgasm building. She then sticks two fingers in your entrance and you scream out. The pleasure from your clit, entrance and ass is overwhelming and you end up coming hard.

You flip onto your back as Melissa gets up and sees you trying to catch your breath. She sits down beside you and you place your head on her lap as she scratches your scalp to help you calm down.

“Why-why are you sti fully dressed?” You ask her after a few seconds.

“Because no one’s taken them off yet.” She says with a smirk. You then sit up and push her down on the bed and she looks up at you and giggles as you immediately take her shirt off and bra off. “Sometimes I think you love my tits more than me.” She jokes and you laugh.

“Maybe equally.” You play along with and she laughs. You place your mouth around a nipple and start sucking. She gasps out and puts her hands in your hair. You feel her rub her thighs together for friction and you smirk. You switch to her other nipple and you undo the button on her jeans and unzip them. You pull away and then get off the bed and then take her pants and underwear off. You go into the nightstand and pull out the harness and dildo and put it on. You get back on top of her and go down to suck her neck. “Now everyone will know you’re claimed.” You tell her as you pull away.

You get on your knees in between her legs and move her hips up slightly and align the dildo with her entrance. You slid it in slowly and she gasps out at the feeling of it filling her up. You bottom out inside of her and you give her a second before you start moving. She starts gasping and moaning like crazy as you start speeding up more and more. She wraps her legs around you and she starts bucking her hips. You pin her down and then start pounding into her. Her legs drop down to the bed as she couldn’t keep them wrapped around you with the pleasure you’re giving her. You placed the dildo in the exact spot where it can rub your clit and you start gasping out as well. You see her grab one of her boobs with her hand and you smirk.

“Rub your clit.” You tell her, just like she did with you. She obeys immediately and starts rubbing her clit and she gasps out.

“Oh god!” She screams out and you can tell she’s about to come.

“I need you to hold it in.” You tell her and she whines. “Just for a bit as I’m close as well, I want you to come with me.” You tell her. Her legs start moving all around and you can tell she’s having difficulty holding it in.

“I can’t hold it anymore.” She cries out.

“Ok, come for me.” You tell her and she lets go immediately and comes hard. You come a few seconds later with a moan and then pull out of her carefully. You take the strap off and then you curl up beside her and places an arm around you.

“You know, I don’t think I can ever let you go.” She says and you look at her.

“And why’s that?” You ask and she smiles before looking at you.

“Cause you always give me one hell of an orgasm.” She says and smirk before giving her a kiss.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

Let me know if you want to be added!

[bisexualbrainrots]

wip wednesday.

I was tagged last week by @sad-girl-hours23 and @epiphainie (thank you sm you two <3) for two different days, so I decided to share some more of this "buck and tommy try to be friends challenge (fail)" fic. second snippet and they finally reunite so enjoy this with a cut because I wrote too much in a short time

When he stepped inside the place, the classic, intoxicating smell of coffee hit him with tremendous force, making him smile. The place wasn’t packed yet but Buck did notice quite a few people, and he could tell more would come thanks to lunch hour. He stood in line with other customers, conversations taking place all around him as he waited for his turn.

It hasn't changed one bit, Buck thought as he looked around.

Buck hadn't come back to the cafe since… well, not since Tommy. It's not like he swore to himself to never get back, it's just, too many memories were attached to it. And the longer he went without passing by the easier it was to avoid it. Until well, now.

God, he didn’t realize how much he would miss this place until it was right in front of him.

He pulled out his phone to check for any messages he might have missed from the last hour. A few were from Judy, who sent him the details and confirmation for their next viewing; others from the group chat, who recently added Ravi; others from Eddie; and the one he was replying to that belonged to his sister.

Maddie: How’s house-hunting going today?

Buck: Still going.

Buck: Idk why it’s taking me so long.

Maddie: It’s only been a month. Relax.

Maddie: Sometimes these things take a while. But you’ll find a place.

Buck: I really hope you’re right sis.

Buck sighed deep, feeling a weight on his shoulders as he thought about all the places he’d seen so far. He moved closer to the counter and scrolled through his phone as he did so, looking at an endless list of properties that he hoped at least one was fitting for what he was looking for.

Buck really needed something to eat or otherwise the feeling of frustration would eat him first.

He looked up to the wall menu. Maybe he could try a sandwich from them and a coffee, yeah that could work. Buck perked up when he looked at the displays and saw a few pound cakes he hadn’t seen before: Lemon lavender, Amaretto, Key lime. He thought about adding those to his baking ideas and quickly typed out a list on his phone.

Until the voice of one of the baristas took him out of thoughts of citrus and almonds.

“Iced Latte for Tommy!”

His neck should have hurt from how fast he snapped his head, his phone almost slipping out of his hands as he froze in place. The unmistakable sound of Tommy's voice as he approached her drilled into his skull and his brain filled up with it, replaying it over and over again.

He stared at the man, not knowing what he could even do at that moment: Should he call out his name? Should he wait until he’s given his order? Should he just pretend this wasn’t happening and he hadn’t actually encountered his ex at the same place he asked him for a re-do of their first date a year later?

Then Tommy turned, facing him, and as if they were in slow motion his eyes widened and he almost dropped his drink.

“Shit.” Tommy cursed.

And wasn’t that a shared sentiment.

no pressure tags: @thefixations-ofmine @andromaquyhn @fake-mouthstatic and tagging back @sad-girl-hours23 & @epiphainie

[jjenthusee]

Bets and Blindfolds

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: this started out as a silly idea, then ended up as my first dabble into smut? guess that’s the magic of october. ENJOY :) let me know your thoughts on the first 18+ on this account. For those who don’t read smut, we will be back to regularly schedule angst and fluff soon 😌

Summary: As a Dr. Pepper lover, Jason judges your expertise in the soda and it gets kinda freaky? (Don’t judge me, this spiraled)

Tags: sorry to all the dr pepper haters, actually no i’m not sorry, unhinged fic, please don’t take my blog away from me, i was actually drinking a pepsi while i wrote this 👨🏽‍🦳, serial kisser jason, clingy jason?, blindfolds 😏, kitchen freakiness lol, crack fic but also smut?, i must include fluff cause its ingrained in my veins, MDNI 18+ only, no specifications on reader, let me know if i implied any

Word Count: 4.6k

“No, Jay, it’s wrong.” You couldn’t mask the stubbornness in your voice, this was where you drew the line.

“Sweets, I think you’re just hangry.”

Jason sat across from you at a table, the bustling noise of the hole in the wall restaurant around him as he tried to reason with you.

“Look at the color, it’s not dark enough and the flavoring is off.” You eyed him, irritation making your voice fluctuate as you pointed to your drink.

Jason looks down at the cold glass of carbonated soda placed on the table between you. The ice cubes floated in a perfectly fine glass of Dr. Pepper.

“Right.” Jason looked back up at you, unamused at your unwavering need to prove to him that you are a connoisseur of the soft drink.

“You’re judging me, but I’m not backing down on this.” You leaned back in your chair, distancing yourself from Jason despite the limited space.

“Sweetheart, we can get you another drink if you don’t like it.” He reached out to try to pry your hand from your arms lazily crossed in front of you.

You fought against his calloused hand by keeping your arms firmly in place. Only wavering in the soothing rubs on your forearm.

But you were stronger. You’ve grown mentally.

Jason spoke again at your silence.

“Look, I’ll ask them to get you another glass.” He slowly reached his hand up to wave down the man who took your order.

You suddenly reached forward to slam his hand back down, timidly looking back to the man who thankfully never saw Jason’s hand.

Only briefly glancing back at the ruckus you were causing.

“Are you crazy? I’m not a monster, Jay. I can’t send it back, I’ll drink it.” You whispered loudly, not even willing to consider replacing your drink.

In an intoxicating lean, Jason enveloped your hand in his, still amused at the lightning speed you threw his hand down.

“If you wanted to hold my hand that badly, you could’ve just asked Sweets.” Jason smiled into your intertwined hands, kissing the back of yours.

You were about to argue back when you noticed the employee bringing your food. Quietly, you slurped down the unsatisfactory drink through your bent straw.

“Two house specials.” The man sat your plates down, looking in between the grinning expression on Jason and your irritation masked in a polite smile.

After you exchanged “Thank you’s” to the employee, you released your hand from Jason’s warm ones.

“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation cause our food is here.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied in the taste.

“I still don’t believe there’s a difference in the taste.” Jason looked at his food, handing you napkins.

Taking the single sheet, you dabbed at your mouth.

“Says the man who will eat anything you throw at him. You're not a reliable source.” You continued to eat.

“This is a lot of talk for someone who can’t stand certain textures of food—”

“Hey! Well…you're not wrong, but I can prove I know what I’m talking about.” You interrupted Jason, clear offense at the direct verbal shots he was taking on your food preferences.

“How?” Jason raised an eyebrow, enjoying edging at your competitiveness. You rarely got this worked up over many things, but food was always your trigger.

No matter the outcome, Jason felt like he won seeing your new quietly enraged reactions. Maybe affectionately picking on you would be his new favorite hobby.

“Bottle, can, fast food dispenser.” Your fingers raised at each choice you listed. “I can tell the difference.”

You mischievously smirked as you wiggled your three fingers at Jason.

“That’s only three, we need to up the stakes.” Jason watched your face barely falter. “Add zero sugar and have two different fast-food places.”

Jason lifted your last two fingers on your hand, totaling your full list to five Dr. Pepper choices.

“All or nothing, Sweets.” Jason intertwined his fingers again at your raised hand. You didn’t return the gesture as you contemplated—weighing your options.

“Whoever wins gets to buy dinner tomorrow.” Jason swayed your hand, you still didn’t reciprocate his hold, but he didn’t mind as he watched your head turn in thought.

When he felt you grip his hand back, Jason held back a smirk. You clasped his hand in an unconventional handshake, sealing the bet.

“Deal.” You brought his hand to your mouth, kissing the back of his like he did to yours earlier.

Once the bet was put aside, your excitement was in your need to finish your meal. You wanted to get the things on your way home and bicker more at your partner while you laughed and smiled into his arm.

You were thrilled as you stopped at individual fast-food joints and a store to gather each of the sodas on your way back to your apartment. The fast-food employees stared at your collection of drinks despite there only being two of you, but an underpaid worker has only so much care before they’re satisfied in you handing over some cash.

When you placed down all the choices on your kitchen counter, Jason disappeared into the bedroom. Grabbing a thin shirt of his, he folded it to be used as a perfect blindfold.

When you placed straws in each of the containers you nearly jumped out of your skin when you had realized Jason appeared quietly next to you.

With a hand over your heart as you felt your rapid heartbeats, you spoke.

“Jay, your steps remember?” You breathed out, trying to stay still despite how frightened you were at how quiet he can appear.

“Oh, right, sorry. I just brought this so you couldn’t see the choices.” Jason held up the folded shirt to your eyes, tying it to the back of your head.

Your vision went completely dark as you stood near your counter.

The sudden blind fold had you reaching out for Jason with hesitation, but in a quick grasp of your hand, Jason stepped closer. Guiding your hand to his arm.

“I’m right here, Sweets.” He kissed the side of your head.

You quietly smiled to yourself as you felt more secure in the darkness.

As you stood, you could hear Jason switching the can, bottle, and other containers.

As you patiently stood and thought about your current situation, it seemed silly that your night out had ended like this.

But who else would endure your last-minute shenanigans?

“Okay, it’s ready. You have five straws. No touching the containers and the straws are all the same height so no cheating.” Jason spoke as he waved a hand in front of you, making sure you didn’t react.

“Yes sir. I’m ready for the taste test.” You saluted playfully.

After the initial sips, you had narrowed down the test between the last two selections. Unsure which was the bottle and can.

In a sudden boost of pressure, you started to second guess yourself before you took a final sip to decide.

“Wait! I need a palette cleanser, get me some water.” You waved out to Jason.

“Okay, okay. Stop waving your hands, I’m right here.” Jason smiled through his words.

Once the glass was placed in your hands, you sipped the water, carefully washing out the sugary taste in your mouth. Then you took the final sips.

“I’m locking in my answers.” You nodded in agreement with yourself. “Dr. Pepper Zero, the can, fast food option one, the bottle, and the second fast food.”

You smirked. Staring in the wrong direction of Jason.

“I’m over here and your wrong—“ Jason triumphantly stood next to you, smiling at your blindfolded face.

His face was going to hurt from all the smiling by the end of the night.

“What!? No—“ You protested, swinging your body at his voice as the unconscious need to playfully nudge him took over.

Jason couldn’t help himself and laughed, watching you lose your mind at his obvious lie.

“I’m kidding, you got them all right you psycho.” He smiled at your face lighting up despite being half covered.

You threw yourself into Jason again, feeling for his face as you pecked him on the edge of his lips. Happiness radiating off your body as you couldn’t wait for dinner tomorrow.

In your surge of excitement, you slightly bounced at the bases of your feet. You couldn’t see, but Jason was slowly following behind, waiting for the right moment to grab your hand.

Between your moments of glee and celebration, your fingers locked with Jason’s, pulling you back into his muscular body.

It felt solid, secure.

While you basked in the touch of your lover, Jason gazed down at you. Watching the crown of your head as you nuzzled into his shirt. Tracing the blindfold as his thoughts bounced in his head.

You were leaning your head against the slow thumps of Jason’s heart. Tiny pulses that you felt on the side of your face.

Jason reached to you, his fingers hooking underneath your chin to lift your face to him.

In your blindness, you would struggle to freely move about, wondering if you were going to bump a corner, but in this moment, you knew Jason was drawing near.

He pressed a full kiss to your lips and you paused, relishing in his initiation.

The kiss was brief, so soft that you two stood still, faces still so close to let it settle in the air.

You smiled from the feeling, being held, and his pulse slowly rising as your fingers laid on his chest.

Jason, love drunk on you, stared shamelessly at your lips. Eyes glossy as he nuzzled his forehead to you, somehow trying to morph your skin together.

His hair frayed, growing messy at the back-and-forth motion.

You chuckled at the feeling.

“Jay, let me—“

Your thought was never finished before he leaned his head further to the side, his jaw crooked at the right angle to capture your lips once again.

He had taken advantage of your mouth opening to speak as he let his tongue press into yours.

New, deeper sounds were leaving your mouth and his.

Your thoughts were vanishing by the millisecond.

Each time he pressed into you further, you felt your body and head move as well, and you would let him guide you anywhere.

“You taste like Dr. Pepper.” Jason playfully complained, pulling away briefly, but your mind was entirely mush by his exhilarating, yet precise kisses.

He continued to gently hold your face, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin, despite his complaints. He could say all he wanted, but his flushed ears and the intensity in his eyes looked ready to numb your mind one slow kiss at a time.

“You take that back or we’re breaking up—”

Jason pulled your face closer, cutting off any further teasing threats and wrapping his hands around your accusing finger you pointed at him.

You felt your hand and arm go limp at his touch.

“I actually really love Dr. Pepper.” He immediately responded, leaning into you. You were still blind folded as he pushed you back, getting closer to the kitchen counter.

“Lies.” You answered back in between smooches, nipping at his bottom lip, stirring at his need to keep the leisure momentum.

Jason had lost the bet, but he was celebrating way more than you were.

He suddenly dipped your body back, taking you by surprise as he continued to capture your breath. The pressure of his body into you was euphoric, giving you a small taste into the thoughts he was having, at the possibilities he was setting for you tonight.

It was nice until you were digging your lower back onto the edge of the counter. Tiny rubs against your back that you ignored, but it still ached.

Sensing your discomfort, Jason leaned you back into him away from the counter. He briefly leaned down to let his arms wrap underneath your legs to lift your whole weight into him.

You grabbed onto his biceps, balancing yourself until you tried to feel for the counter underneath you.

While you were momentarily in the air, Jason admired you, taking the chance of your covered eyes to just stare. To let him relish that he was holding someone so precious, so important to his happiness that he didn’t know what else to do but kiss into your shirt, directly over your heart.

A sacred, long, drawn-out kiss was placed to the center of your chest. It held all of Jason’s silent “Thank you’s” to whatever brought him to this moment.

Feeling the warmth, you cradled Jason’s head into your arms, letting your fingers rub at the spot of his neck that you know held a lot of tension from his helmet.

You gave a final kiss to Jason’s hair before you were sat on the top of the counter, your legs dangling off the edge.

Jason’s breathing was becoming hasty, built up from the emotional highs of your shared love and intimacy that he was losing control of his want to take this night slow.

As he silently dealt with his internal struggles, you were focused on trying to feel for Jason.

Your hands met the fabric of his shirt, letting your hands move up his chest as you concentrated on the mounds of each muscle on your fingers and palms.

Each dip and lift making Jason’s chest rise and fall more abruptly the more you moved.

He was supposed to be taking your breath away, but you were the one unknowingly and effortlessly taking away his.

Jason’s head had leaned back to control his thoughts, his veins had bulged in his neck at how tense his body was as you let your hands roam free.

He no longer had any more patience to spare if you continued this a second longer.

While he fought with himself, you felt the hands he had placed on your legs rub harder into you. Each press made your body flinch at the pressure.

You were getting antsy.

When you got to Jason’s collarbone, you traced the curve of his bones. Slowly dragging a finger.

You took a sharp breath when Jason squeezed your leg a little more fiercely, causing the sound in your throat to cast out an unfamiliar voice from you.

You were going to shut your mouth, but Jason had already lifted one of his hands to cup your jaw, tilting your face to the side. Pivoting your faces in opposite angles trying to get even closer than you already were.

You felt his tongue again, but the ferocity of it was immensely different from his previous kiss.

That one was patient, calculated.

This was carnal, desperate.

You were enjoying this new side of Jason. He was always deliberate, intentional, and ready for the unknown, but what he was giving you was raw, hungry.

In another squeeze to your leg, you brushed your hips forward, silently begging for another one of his intoxicating presses.

Without a moment's hesitation, he obliged. Moving his hand further up your leg to give you a firmer grip as he pressed his face into your neck, trying to leave a mark on your skin.

Too lost into the feeling, you threw your head back in the pleasure, bumping your head into the cabinet behind you.

The slight pain had knocked you back into reality.

Jason had quickly lifted his head at the sound, as he held your head.

You laughed at the change in atmosphere, letting Jason nurture your head to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away.” Jason apologized as he panted. The tension in your shared touches not fully gone from him.

You smiled, knowing in your heart that he was worrying too much about you.

“It’s okay.” You lightheartedly soothed him, going back to the intoxicating rubs you had on him earlier. Rubbing at his muscular arms, leaning in to kiss where you could.

You kissed his shoulder and his neck to slowly ease him back into the desire you had for one another.

It was slow, but effective in calming Jason.

“Are you sure?” He hummed, closing his eyes to focus on your touch again.

“Mm.” You kissed up his neck.

Before you could get to his jaw, you leaned in to suck a little harder on his skin, swirling your tongue on the flesh that you hoped would bruise.

Jason lowly gasped at the tiny prick at his throat.

He tried to muffle his sounds, but he didn’t last long before he lightly panted at your soothing peck.

When you reached his face, you kissed his chin, his stubble tickling your own skin.

The feeling boosting your own pleasure at the man held on the palm of your hand.

You licked into Jason’s mouth, moving your arms around his neck to pull him to you.

You continued to kiss him, going back to the languid tension.

In a small pop between your mouths, Jason spoke, slow and relaxed.

“If this is how we act to a small bet, I wonder what would happen if I took you to the Dr. Pepper Museum.” Jason smiled against your lips, speaking in-between longing pecks.

“There’s a museum?” You asked in awe, impassively scratching at the back of his neck, earning yourself a drawn out breathe from him. “Might have to put a ring on you.” You carefully leaned back into the cabinet as Jason kept up his kissing shenanigans on your neck, collarbone, and your arms.

You laughed as the kisses became playful nips at your skin.

“Proposing at the Dr. Pepper Museum? And they say romance is dead.” Jason placed one last mark on the inner of your wrist, completing the affection in a final kiss on your ring finger.

“In Dr. Pepper shirts.” You cradled his face in your hands at your suggestion, smiling at the sudden pause you felt from your lover.

“Oh no, I love you, but we need to draw a line now.” Jason laughed, low and relaxed as he basked in the touch of your hands on his face. Your hands pricked at the subtle itch of his stubble under your palms.

“Your limit is the shirts? That’s where you draw the line?” You laughed back as you reached up behind your head to loosen the knot of the T-shirt covering your eyes. “Just take off this blindfold so I can see you.”

“Nuh uh. I’m not finished yet.” Jason stopped your hands. Gently bringing them above your head.

Your wrists were caught between his singular hand, very loosely, but who were you to try to deny the man his plans?

You were curious how he wanted to continue the night.

With your hands raised above your head, you could focus on the feeling of his hands dragging down your body.

His fingers pausing, opening buttons and zippers to reveal more of your skin.

Each time a new portion was revealed, he kissed the hot skin.

Your senses were elevating each time you felt his lips press down. It was a new feeling that had you gasping.

He lowered himself down further and further. Taking advantage of your inability to see his thoughts and actions.

Your stomach warmed as Jason’s fingers slowly dragged at your revealed skin. Finding the brief warmth in between fabric, caressing you, teasing in a way that got your body following and anticipating the slightest movement of his hands.

It was intoxicating as your lips opened to suddenly try to breathe as his touches made you lose your breath.

As your body slightly squirmed, you were slipping to the edge of the counter. It didn’t help that Jason leaned into you, opening your legs further apart to settle himself snugly against you. Keeping you on the counter, flush against him, unable to move further.

When you did try to move, it only added friction to your already flush bodies, igniting another warmth as his voice lulled close to you.

“Breathe, Sweets.” Jason strained at your movements.

You were going to lose your mind.

His voice was deep, steady as he continued to hold your body in ways that made it feel impossible to do so.

In combination with his warm body slightly mimicking your itching movements, your stomach went taut at the stimulation of everything this man managed to make you feel.

It felt all too much, but not enough.

“So much talk today, but you can’t seem to talk back.” Jason talked against your lips, dragging closer then pulling away. “You can’t even remember to breathe.” Jason smirked watching you flinch at every drag of his words.

In your irritation at him getting too confident and your need for more, you edged your hips against Jason’s waist. Causing a sharp breath from the man standing in between your legs.

“Breathe, Jay.” You murmured back, no longer caring about testing your limits. Or maybe you wanted to test them.

Jason hunched over you, catching his breaths as sweat was starting to coat your skin and his.

In the lost breaths, you may have lost you inability to think, but you still had enough focus to try to make this man lose his mind too.

A small, coarse chuckle resonated in front of you, low breaths landed on your neck, drawing the hairs on your body to stand up.

Jason’s large free hand, rested on your stomach as he irritatingly dragged up your shirt to reveal more of what was already showing.

“I am.” Jason lowered his hand to cup you lower, just below your waist band to rub.

You twitched at the touch over your clothes, exhaling a deep breath that was stuck in your chest.

You were about to lose your entire mind, and he hadn’t even gotten your pants off.

Jason hiddenly smirked as you leaned your head back as much as you could into the cabinet behind you, but you couldn’t move without affecting the friction on your body.

It was a battle between two evils.

“You have two options. My mouth or my hands?” Jason spoke, his eyes dragging up your body watching you desperately taking in breaths.

You were long past being worried about how you looked, spread on the counter. Now you only focused on the need for more feeling.

You could hear his voice fading and resurfacing as you pried your fingers into Jason’s hand holding them up.

“You gotta tell me, Sweets.” He thickly spoke, adding pressure onto your hands, chasing the slight pain your nails dug into him.

He had always loved a little pain in your more intimate moments. Letting your pleasure drag out too long to handle it, until your pants were so guttural you could not recognize yourself, or when the scratches ran so deep into his back that your arms hurt from holding onto him.

“I need to know. Please.” Jason rubbed over your pants, his large fingers moving in various motions and strengths.

That had done it.

“Mouth.” You blurted out, no longer trying to find your voice.

You stretched your neck, your arms, anything to keep you from staying still at his fingers touching you so vulnerably.

Kissing your jaw in thanks, Jason let go of your hands.

“There’s that voice I love.” He murmured into your cheek, hypnotized by the smell of your sweat.

Your arms fell to the edges of the counter as Jason fully unbuttoned your pants.

You tried to not fight the slow pull of the fabric off your body, ready to kick off the pants, but Jason loved taking them off himself.

You had learned that lesson when he had come back a little more intense than usual after patrol and your curiosity got the better of you.

You have never screamed that loud in your life.

As much as you loved that Jason too, there was something so sweet about a patient lover that made you lose your mind in other ways.

After the fabric left your ankles, you had one final layer.

Jason took a sharp inhale at the sight he watched, getting closer to seeing all of you. He was losing his rationality at the anticipation to touch you.

Pressuring himself to wait.

Patience was a virtue.

In your fidgety anticipation, Jason lightly touched you, hand dragging over thin fabric covering you.

You hung your head, suddenly the blindfold felt so heavy.

You gasped, leaving your mouth open to how intense that single stroke felt.

“Oh, Sweets.” Jason inched his finger under the final waistband, lowering it all the way down your legs. Pulling your underwear off one leg at a time.

For a moment you couldn’t feel Jason’s touch as he tucked a portion of your underwear into his pocket.

Jason shook at the garment partially sticking out for his own view.

It was giving him a high that he had to control his shaky hands.

While Jason calmed himself, the cool air was nice against your hot body.

Your nerves were all on edge as you tried to grip onto the counter.

Jason had kept your legs up, using his strength to keep you in place as he lowered himself.

Once his messy hair had touched your lower abdomen and some stray strands had tickled the inner of your thighs, you couldn’t help but let out a sound.

Everything felt so excruciating, but in a way that you wanted more of it.

Craved it.

Jason’s mouth had touched you fully, nothing no longer keeping him separated from you and his arms grasped at your legs to keep you in place.

His large fingers dug into your skin.

You were sure Jason would trace the marks left on you in the morning, but he had another job he wanted to fulfill.

Sweet relief was spreading all over you each time you felt his mouth drag across you, maneuvering his tongue in ways that had you choking out his name in between breaths.

When the counter was not enough, you dragged your hands through his hair. Gaining a very appealing sound from his throat that vibrated through your legs.

You chased the high, battling against your senses to move away and toward Jason’s tongue and mouth.

When the small spark had hit through all your nerves, you knew he was moving in the ways your body always reacted to. That he had repeatedly watched and mastered in getting you to meet the sort of euphoria that had you shaking.

Within a few more scratches and pulling at his hair, your ears rung, and you pressed your eyelids closed despite them never being open the entire evening.

Sweat had encased your skin in a thin layer as your chest heaved.

Jason kissed your lower one last time, your eyebrows furrowed at the overstimulation that still hadn’t left, the sensitivity at its peak.

He was in no rush to move, kissing around your abdomen, leaving marks and nips as he pleased.

You were in no state to focus on any individual kisses, just catching your breath in a sloppy mess.

Jason had raised himself, holding and easing your legs down so he can stand up again. He brought his hand to wipe your sweaty hair and then to pull at the blindfold until it slipped off.

You could only drunkenly squint at the bright kitchen lights when Jason’s head leaned into to block out the brightness.

He pecked at your forehead, creating a path to your eyelids, to the tips of your nose and ending in one final drunken kiss to your lips. Before he could pull away, he nipped at your upper lip, but the pinch was numb as you could only lazily blink up at him.

Your look had Jason slowly smirking, proud of his dedication and meticulous work.

“Let’s finish this in the bedroom.” Jason brought you into his arms, effortlessly caring you to end the night without any rest.

[patrophthia]

attention is what i want! | theo. nott

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: pining, one sided crushes, angst !!, complicated feelings, theo is a dick tbh, humor (my attempt at it), reader embarrasses herself (multiple time), girls girls pansy, reader are friends with the golden trio but isn’t a gryffindor, cursing, drinking, a bit suggestive in the end hehe

wc: 4.3k (idk how it got this long, i planned to write sth with like 2k at most but it kept going)

note: i wrote this while listening to attention by new jeans for two hours straight (yay pining!) i have very mixed feelings for this fic but here it is anyways!

summary: it’s no secret that you have a crush on theodore nott, theo knows it, hell the whole school knew it; maybe if they didn’t then it’d be easier for you to get over him after you embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. at least you got a new friend because of it.

To say you had a crush on Theodore Nott would be an understatement. You never actually confessed to the Slytherin but it's as clear as days that you were into him. 

And when he was as good looking as he was, could anyone really blame you? 

Not really, not when most of Hogwarts found your attempt at shooting your shot with him the most amusing thing ever. 

"Good morning, Nott." Your hand shot upwards the second the Slytherin enters the classroom. His eyes settling on you whilst his friends bickers behind him. "I saved you a seat." 

There's snickering from behind you, hushed whispers as your classmate gossips about your pathetic attempt at getting with Theodore once more. 

His eyes scans the room, finally settling on one of the two empty seats behind the class and B-lining towards it. Zabini, having lost to Malfoy at grabbing the seat next to Theodore smiles at you kindly. Maybe even apologetically as he sits next to you. 

"Better luck next time?" He offers, trying to lighten your mood and you smile back, nodding. "You'll get him eventually." 

And though your voice is low, barely audible and muffled; Zabini still manages to hear you huff out a: "doubt it." 

"Do you think he'd pay attention to me if I dyed my hair green?" You ask, playing with your hair. 

Sure, your hair would end up damaged but if it meant Theodore would spare a glance your way then you'd take it. 

Harry looks at you as if you'd grown an extra head, green eyes enlarged as he tries to gauge whether you were serious or not. "Excuse me?" 

"I think I could pull of forest green hair." 

Hermione rolls her eyes. "No, you can't." She doesn't really mean it though, she does agree that you'd probably pull off forest green hair but she'd rather you do it for your own personal wants rather than to gain someone else's attention. "And you won't." 

You only huff at her words. "Why not?"

"Because, it's stupid. You'd look stupid doing so." Mione doesn't bother sugarcoating it, she doesn't need to when you've known her as long as you have. "If you need his attention so badly then ask him out, just drop the question and get it over with." 

"I'm trying to!" You groan, passing your plate with leftovers over to Ron who accepts it gladly. "I could walk naked in front of him and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash." 

Ron face scrunches at the idea, finding the prospect of a naked you disgusting. "You could put up a banner," he suggests through a mouthful of food. "I'd notice someone if they put up a banner with my name on it." 

And when Hermione's whacked Ron at him encouraging what she deemed was self destructive behavior, the conversation shifts to something else completely. 

You're huffing and puffing when you straighten up, showing your three closest friends what you'd been working on for the last two days. "What do you think?" 

Ron gasps loudly, eyes wide as he takes in the imagine in front of him. "You're crazy." 

"If you'd just—" Hermione, as if it was second nature, reaches up and smack at his arm. "—learnt how to shut up, this wouldn't have happened." 

It's only natural for you to frown at their reaction, brows knitted as you asked them. "Is it too much?" 

Harry, and his sweet sweet soul tries his best to not hurt your feelings as he nodded. "Maybe?" He tries to soften the blow, adding on: "I think it's brilliant, it's just ... a lot." 

You look over your masterpiece. Reading out the glittering paint, letter by letter and watching it as it takes shape into one of the biggest banner you've seen at Hogwarts by far. 

Written in shining green paint were the words: 

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me? 

"I mean, if anything you'll definitely get his attention with that," Harry says, blinking rapidly at the banner. "It's pretty hard to miss." 

"Let's hope so." 

The dining hall is louder than normal, it has always been noisy; having seated thousands of teenagers who had little to none supervision during their breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

But like Theodore has noted earlier, it's noisier than normal. And the drop of voices is significant when he steps through the large doors, loud gossips turns to hushed whispers; eyes roaming between him and a figure by the Gryffindor table. 

It doesn't take him long to notice why, a dust of glitter falling down on him from above. He glances up, eyes squinting as he reads out the banner before him. 

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me? 

The letters are bright, glinting under the candle light as if it was taunting him, pushing at his buttons for a reaction. And though, there was no name written on the banner to indicate who'd made it; he knew that it was you. 

Dark eyes narrows as he zones in on you. You dressed up nicely, watching him with a pretty smile on your waiting face. 

And when all he did was roll his eyes and turn towards the Slytherin table, without sparing you another look. You all but deflated in front of everyone's eyes. 

You knew it was stupid, and that it was all your fault to make your love life so public for everyone to entertain themselves with, but you can't help but feel hurt at the laughter bubbling through out the hall. 

You're scrambling out of your seat, rushing out of the hall when a voice shouts out. "Serves you right, pick me!" 

Oddly enough, it's Pansy who speaks up; her voice loud and clearly irritated when she shouts back, telling them to go and: "Fuck yourself." 

Why the Slytherin threw a dirty glare at her friend and ran after you despite the two of you not being friends —let alone having been seen together before, was a mystery to everyone. 

And since Hermione loves you too much for her own good, she’s quick to scramble out of her seat, casting a spell to set the banner up in flames as she rushed after Pansy and you. 

There’s a sort of guilt that Hermione feels when she finds you hunched over with Pansy’s hand running up and down your back. The two of you weren’t friends, neither is Hermione and Pansy but when a girl’s in need of comfort, it’s only normal for them to be there for her. 

“I don’t get why you’re into him, honestly,” Pansy grits out, “out of all the boys in Slytherin you just had to choose the dickhead, didn’t you?” 

Hermione can hear you sniffle out a laugh as she takes a seat on your other side. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to choose the dickhead, huh?” 

Pansy and Hermione are sharing a grin as you lift your head up slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not like I wanted to like him, you know?” You say with a small laugh. “I guess I’m just attracted to an asshole.” 

“You’re guessing this now?” Pansy says with a roll of her eyes, there’s no venom in her tone, only playful annoyance. “This isn’t the first time he’s treated you like this. I’ve heard all about your … attempts, you know?” 

“Really?” You’re laughing and the hurt in your tone is clearer than ever. “How embarrassing.” 

“It’s not,” Hermione reassured you, “if anything I think it’s endearing.” 

“Me making a fool of myself for a guy is endearing to you?” 

Pansy giggles at your words. “I’ve done worse, maybe just not so publicly.” Her voice is playful when she adds on, “but this should be the final nail in the coffin right? Finally getting over that asshole after this?” 

“That asshole is your best friend,” you remind her and she looks to her side bashfully. 

“That doesn’t excuse him for being horrible to you,” she mumbled. “And I thought Draco was bad.”

“Malfoy is bad,” Hermione chimes in. “He just didn’t humiliate you like Nott did her.” 

Pansy tilts her head to the side in thought. “Maybe. Or maybe we should just stop dating Slytherin guys over all.” 

Hermione only smiles fondly at her words. “Maybe.” 

You’re doing fine. Or as fine as one could be after a publicly humiliating confession. You’re still very you, smiling at Theodore every chance you get even though you’ve told your friends (now extended to Pansy) multiple times that you were getting over him. 

The only BIG difference that anyone noticed after your rejection was that you no longer attempted to get closer to Theodore. You don’t save him seats, you don’t tell him good morning, and they’d be lying if they said it wasn’t weird. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

You look up, eyes widening at the person in front of you and nodded. “I’m saving it for someone.” You pray to Merlin that he doesn’t hear the waver in your voice as you did so. “Is there something you needed?” 

He doesn’t answer you, instead placing his book bag on your desk. You try to control the butterflies caged in your stomach, fluttering at the sight of his forearm flexing as he did so. “You’re saving it for me? Like always?” 

You blink at him. “… no. I’m saving it for Blaise.” 

“Huh,” he hums thoughtfully, “you’re in first name basis now?” 

You move to your right when he takes his seat to your left, trying to distance yourself from him. “What do you want?” 

He looks at you and your pretense of being over him crumbles all over, tumbling as he nearly knocks you off your feet just how intense his gaze is. And though you’ve always wanted his attention, for him to look at you back like he’s doing now. You can’t help but feel sick to your stomach with how much you still liked him. 

“Attention is what you want, right?” 

What is he playing at? “Not anymore.” 

“Shame.” There’s a slight smile at your answer. “I was finally ready to give it to you.” 

“He said that?” Pansy repeats your words back to you, her hand moving away from your face as she dips it back into the face mask she’d mixed up. “That’s weird.” 

“That’s what I thought,” you murmur, feeling Hermione kick her feet into your lap. “I’m so confused right now.” 

“Maybe he’s playing hard to get?” Hermione suggests. “Even if he is I hope he knows the only hard thing he’s getting is a rock thrown at his face.” 

It’s clear that she’s taken your rejection harder than you did, grumbling at the thought of him. “A text book if he’s lucky.” 

Pansy finishes up your face mask and sets the bowl down. “I told him to apologise to you, not to go and bother you," she says, frowning slightly.

“You told him to apologise?” The tone of the conversation shifts, downing just the slightest bit. 

Pansy avoids your eyes as she nods, “I just wanted him to say sorry for how he treated you, you didn’t deserve that. But that fucker decided to go and do something weird, I’m sorry, lovely.” 

When she’s taken up the nickname lovely for you, you don’t know. But you’re too much into your head to say anything about it. “Please don’t do that. Don’t meddle with this just because you pity me. I can handle this by myself.” 

“I don’t—” Pansy pauses, realising the weight of her actions “—I’m sorry, I promise I’ll leave you be.” 

You’re nodding when you tell her: “thank you.” 

Trying to jot down notes does nothing to soothe your nerves, and it definitely doesn’t distract you from the fact that Theodore Nott is sitting so damn close to you. So close that your thighs were touching, and that with any small move you made, your shoulder brushes against his. 

Moving your chair to the right is no use, not when he’d move his just so he’d be closer to you. You’re so close you could practically hear him breathe. 

It’s when your quill slips off of your desk that you have to confront him about it. You nudge at his thigh with yours, forcing them to his left only for him to look at you curiously. “Can you move?” 

“Why?” He asks instead, planting his thighs where they’d been. 

“My quill fell, I need to get it.” You explain, avoiding his eyes as best as you could. His attention is not good for your heart, maybe it two weeks ago, but it definitely wasn’t now. 

Theodore is uninterested and unmoving when he quipped back. “And you can’t get like this?” 

Not if you didn’t want to plan your face on his lap and be so terribly close to his— yeah no. You sigh, leaning forward to tap at the person’s in front of you shoulder. “Would you mind getting my quill for me please? It’s bit hard for me to reach.” 

The person in front nods and leans down to get it for you with a smile. And when they hands it to you, their finger brushing against yours, you distinctly feel Theodore press himself closer to you. 

“You could’ve borrowed mine,” Theodore says lowly, eyeing you from above. 

He’s slightly taller than you, even when you’re both sat. Trying to prove to him (and yourself) that you were over him, and that this close proximity did not matter to you; you strain your neck up to glare at him. “You could’ve moved.” 

“Maybe,” he concurs. “And you could’ve just asked for me to get it for you.” 

“Like you’d do that,” you murmur with a roll of your eyes. “For me of all people.” 

“For you of all people,” he repeats. 

You hate how you instinctively break away from his gaze, looking at your notes as you try to calm your beating heart. Two weeks is nearly not enough to time to get over a crush you’ve been harboring for the longest time, not when you liked him so much you didn’t bother to keep it a secret to anyone and he knows it. 

He knows it and he’s using it as an advantage, for what exactly you don’t know. What you do know, is that you need to get away from Theodore Nott. Or kiss him. Whichever works. 

You sigh, glancing at your hands and hope that your voice doesn’t tremble when you quietly ask him. “What are you playing at Theodore?” You’re exasperated and he can hear it, he can hear the exhaustion in your voice and he tries his best not to let it get to him. “I know Pansy told you to apologize but you’re not apologizing, you’re just making things worse.” 

He doesn’t say anything, though you can still feel his eyes on you. “Excuse me, Professor,” he says suddenly, his shoulder knocking yours as he stood up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, would you mind letting me slip to the infirmary?” 

His hands are on you, holding firmly onto your wrist as he speaks. “It’s best if I had a friend to help me.” The professor doesn’t get a chance to respond before Theodore is pulling you away from the class. 

Your words are jumbled, flailing as you try to match up his pace; you’re confused and against your better judgement, you trust that he wouldn’t hurt you —even if he’d done so many times before. 

He comes to a halt by a hallway, it’s quiet still; students having yet left their classes. 

He looks at you, dark eyes clouding with emotion and tries to get you to look at him. Practically begging for you to give him your attention before speaking. “How am I making things worse? It’s what you wanted isn’t it?” 

“It is,” you say after a minute. “It’s just— this isn’t how I wanted it.

I like you, Theodore. A lot and I’ve made it so clear so many times and you always made it clear that you didn’t like me back. I finally try to get over you and you do this? What even is this? What are you trying to get at, Theo?” 

He doesn’t answer you, his hand finally releasing the grip on your wrist to rest by his side. 

You scoff, noting how he falls back to his pattern of not speaking to you when you’re practically pouring your heart out to him. 

“Why did never ask me out?” 

Your expression is puzzled, and he knows that he needs to explain himself, for him to tell you exactly what he meant but can’t bring himself to. Not when he wants to keep his pride in check.

“I did ask you out,” you tell him slowly. “In front of everyone.” 

“Exactly,” his reply is breathless as if he had been pondering over this for ages, “in front of everyone. Why didn’t you tell me you like me? Why didn’t you ask me when it’s just you and I?” 

“Are you serious?” You let out a ridiculing laugh. “You never wanted to step a single foot next to me and you expected me to ask you when it’s just me and you? Are you kidding me? 

Did you ever wonder why I wrote ‘attention is what I want’?” 

He’s speechless. And screwed. He can sense that you’re growing agitated with him, and he hates it. 

“Would it have changed anything if I had asked you out between you and I?” 

His silence is loud enough for you to understand his converted answer. 

“Merlin, why did you bring me out here, Theodore?” 

Theodore is bad at emotions. He’s bad at feelings, he’s bad at love and everything alike. He doesn’t like you and he’s pretty sure of it. Then why does it bother him so much to know that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Of course you don’t.” You meet his eyes and he knows that this is the end, you’re done with him for good. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to be the one I liked, huh?”

“And that’s it?” Ron ask curiously. “You’re finally getting over him?” 

“Mhmm,” you hum, waving at Pansy who waved at you from the end of the dining hall, her Slytherin friends pointedly looking between you, Pansy, and Nott. “Finally am.” 

Ron doesn’t need to know that despite your mind being set on getting over Nott, your stomach still did somersault every time you see him —even in your peripheral vision. 

And when you smile at him, much like you did to everyone else and he doesn’t smile back at you; you feel your heart break all over again. 

It’s your own fault though, falling for a mere stranger who you’d only ever spoken to in classes —all of which having been conversations about school. 

“Do I get reward?” 

Hermione rolls her eyes. “A reward for doing something we’ve been telling you to do for ages? You wish.” 

“I’ve been wishing for something else.” The mischievous look on your face is enough to clue her in on where your mind as gone, scrunching her face as she scowls at you. “Gross.” 

“Are you okay though?” Harry asks you lowly. “I know it can be hard to get over crushes.” Take him and Chang for example. “So if you need anything we’re here for you.” 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Or at least I’ll be.” 

Harry offers you a smile, as kind as always. “That’s good then.” 

It’d only be weird for you to visit the Slytherin common room often (courtesy of Pansy) and for you to not run into Theodore at least once. 

You’re standing outside the common room, waiting for Pansy to come and get you when the door swings open and he stands there in front of you. He’s in his pajamas, an oversized sweater pooling at his hands. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Though you’re also in your pajamas, you feel slightly underdressed under his eyes. Only having worn a loose T-shirt and shorts for girls night. 

You want to ask him what he’s doing here but it is his house’s common room so you withheld your question to yourself. “Pansy.” 

He gives you a once over before glancing back into the common room, it’s roaring with laughters; a bunch of the Slytherin boys deciding to play card games as they indulge themselves with the alcohol they bought with their father’s money. 

“Let me walk you in,” he offers, already turning back into the common room; expecting for you to follow after him. 

“You don’t need to—” you don’t get to finish your words when Theodore throws you a sharp look. As if he was asking you to protest him on this. You sigh, following after him. 

Theodore stays a good distance away, hiding you and your bare legs from the other Slytherins. He doesn’t really have to though, most of them minding their own business until Blaise chirps up to say hi. 

“Hello,” you greeted him back, waving at him. Crabbe, now noticing your interaction lets out a low whistle at the sight of you. And Theodore moves closer to you, almost possessively. “I’ll see you in the morning?” 

“Mhmm,” Blaise says, humming before turning his attention back to Enzo. “Goodnight, princess.” 

There’s a snicker from Goyle, smirking as he says. “You’re stealing Nott’s girl now?” 

You only offer him a smile, feeling Theodore come in over closer to you as he hurries you up the stairs. There’s a thump! from behind and you knew, without seeing, that Blaise threw a pillow at the bastards face. 

Theodore doesn’t try to hide his amusement when you curse a hex in Crabbe and Goyle’s way, not when Mattheo’s laughter roared across the room at your spell. 

“Thank you,” you tell Theodore, and you noticed that his lips are curled; why exactly, you don’t want to know. “Goodnight, Theodore.” 

You’re halfway up the stairs when he calls your name, you turn to him. “Yes?” 

“Goodnight,” he says, turning on his heel to leave. 

You turn back up the stairs, only to pause and look back at him once, twice; before setting off to find Pansy. 

It’s two weeks later when Theodore bumps into you again, this time; quite literally. His hands are on you, stilling you so you wouldn’t fall flat on your ass. 

The dance floor is crowded, but it’s to be expected when one of the most popular students at Hogwarts (read: Blaise Zabini) is throwing a birthday party. 

You’re —by extension through Pansy, a friend of his which means you needed to be there or he’d be pretty (very) sad about it and pester you about it for the rest of your life. 

“Woah!” Your hands lay awkwardly on his chest, trying to push him away whilst trying to balance yourself still. “Watch where you’re going.” 

Theodore straightens you up, hands lingering a little too long before letting you go. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry.” 

And though you promised yourself to let go off Theodore months ago, you can’t help but feel your heart twist at his words. Skin burning where he’d touch you mere seconds ago. 

“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “just be more careful.” 

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, blinking at you slowly as if he couldn’t believe you were so close to him. “You look nice.” 

You better hope so, it’s not like you spend an hour getting ready to look anything but nice. And despite your better judgment, you feel butterflies setting off in your stomach once more. But that could’ve also been caused by the mixed concoction you downed five minutes ago. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “You too, Theo.” 

“Mhmm,” he hums nodding, his expression is hesitant. “Thank you,” he says, turning his head to the side and under the clubbing lights, you can easily spot the tinging redness at the top of his ears. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

“What?” It’s not that you didn’t hear him, it’s that you didn’t want to hear him. Because you knew, damn well, that if he’d just repeated himself you would agree within a heartbeat.

He gulps, and repeat himself. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Maybe your heart is weak, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Theodore that gets you out of there with him attached to your lips. 

His hand pressing into the small of your back as you leaned against the wall, a small groan slipping from his lips when you nipped on it. 

Theodore pulls back, eyes wide and roaming your face as he takes your features in; memorising the slope of your nose, the plumpness in your lips, and the apples of your cheeks as if this was the last time he’d be able to do so. And presses his lips to yours once more. 

He calls out your name, a free hand reaching up to cup your jaw so you’d look at him. For you to give him the attention he so desperately wanted from you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know you probably hate me and I’m so sorry but give me a chance, please.” 

His tone is desperate, almost begging as he did so and you wonder if he knew the impact he still had on you. He lets go of your jaw, arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“Give me a chance to make it up to you,” he asks of you, mouth pressing wet kisses down your neck as he repeats himself. “Please, please, pretty girl.” 

“Theo.” His kisses doesn’t stop, much less falter at your words. “Theo.” 

“Mhmm?” He hums against your neck, pulling back to give you his full an undivided attention. “Yes?” 

He’s a bit taken aback when you kiss him quickly, chasing your lips as you pulled back. “You have a lot to make up for.” 

“I know.” The curled smile of his returns, dark eyes glinting as he looks at you. “But for now let me give you all my attention.”

— from bee: i guess reader got what she wished for at the end lol, feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! (๑>◡<๑)

p.s this pic of mingyu is so (my) bf i love him!!

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Untitled Spamton X Reader fic Ch1

The stress of election night made me cave and start writing a self-indulgent Spamton x Reader fic...that I was hoping to finish that night but as you can see it took me a bit longer because writing 6k words in one night is hard. T_T

Anyway, he's my entry into the genre of "Reader finds Spamton in a dumpster and takes him home" fics. Maybe there's room for one more in that category? 🥺

Not sure if/when I'll continue working on this but uh. Here y'all go.

(Also sorry I spend the first few paragraphs writing an actual vent post about my actual job adfajdafjdal)

------

Today hasn’t exactly been noteworthy. It’s just another day, like so many you’ve had before. Wake up, trudge over to your desk, sign on to work, pretend you’ve been awake for at least an hour longer than you have been, and rub the sleep out of your eyes while you gnosh on a cereal bar because (as usual) you don’t have time to make anything else before your morning meetings start.

You pay no more or less attention than usual, picking away at your own tasks while two of your coworkers have an in depth discussion on something you probably don’t need to concern yourself with. With your camera off they are left to assume you’re listening just as raptly as they’d wish you to.

The meeting ends and you dive fully into your work. You enjoy programming. The product itself (some productivity-helper app that’s not much different than dozens of others) is not of particular interest to you. You don’t even use it in your personal life--only for checking on work-related things.

You get a ping from a coworker. The dev environment is down. Again. He doesn’t know how to fix it. He heard you do?

You suppress a sigh that he wouldn’t’ve heard through the screen anyway.

You fixed it once, about a year ago, out of desperation. It had been an easy fix but somehow it had been enough to convince people you Knew What You Were Doing, and a couple more fixes later, you found yourself in the unenviable position of “The Guy (gender-neutral)”. 

You close several windows and open several more, your previous task for the day forgotten. Two more people ping you. Did you know the dev environment is down? Yes. Your boss pings you. Did you know? Of course you know.

You dive back into the spaghetti code you still don’t fully understand. The person who wrote it left six months ago. You follow a thread of convoluted logic, only to lose your train of thought when another colleague messages you.

Did you know?

YES.

Line by line, search query after search query, you toil to untangle the mess.

And suddenly find your own code staring you back in the face. The very first fix you’d made had been defective. Impermanent. A flimsy rubber band that had finally snapped.

You frown. You wonder what you’d been thinking when you’d fixed it before. The flaw in your approach seems obvious now. And yet somehow it had been good enough for you to be crowned “The Guy (gender-neutral)”. 

You sure weren’t “The Guy (gender-neutral)” then…but maybe you are now. Or close to it.

A couple more keystrokes and dev is back in business.

…It’s also the middle of the night, your colleagues have signed off, and you forgot to eat dinner. Again.

You crash down from the high of your accomplishment--deflated, hungry, and tired. You message chat that everything’s fixed but you’ll be late tomorrow, and close your work computer.

How had you worked for twelve hours without even noticing? Maybe you like programming more than you thought.

You’re not sure how you feel about that.

You rise from your chair with a tired groan, padding out to the kitchen.

…Where you promptly see--and worse, smell--the bag of trash you meant to take out this morning.

“Ugggghhhh…” you groan in disgust and self-pity, your shoulders slumping.

You grumble to yourself in frustration as you pull on your coat, grab the bag roughly by the handles as if it had any more say its fate than you, and proceed to name-drop every one of your coworkers in your mumblings as you make your way down four flights of stairs.

…Only to realize it’s raining. Not exactly a downpour--light enough that you didn’t hear it from your apartment, but heavy enough that you’ll definitely be soaked if you try to get to the dumpster.

Whatever. You’re not lugging the trash bag back up the stairs only to get your umbrella. You were going to change into your PJs while dinner was cooking anyway.

You grit your teeth and cross the dimly lit parking lot to the three-wall, roofless structure that contains the dumpsters and recycling bins. 

The rain in your eyes, the dim lighting, and your own grim determination to be done with your task almost cause you to miss it, but as you’re attempting to dry your hands before stuffing them back in your coat pockets, you see it.

A small white boot sticking out from the gap between the dumpster and the enclosure. You’re not sure what draws you to it--at first you think it’s just an old discarded piece of clothing that fell out of the overflowing bin.

Your gut instinct realizes what your conscious mind hasn’t yet, forcing you to take a step towards it and get a closer look.

Your stomach twists as you realize the boot is definitely still attached to something. At first you think it’s a child, but the figure’s odd proportions dismiss the idea before you can even so much as cry out in alarm.

The head accounts for about a third of the height, and the shoulders are strangely broad, with the legs being rather short in proportion. Though all that is trivial compared to the distinctly inhuman face.

Well…it’s probably meant to be based on a human, you realize, but it certainly isn’t one. The large mouth is fixed in a permanent, uncannily huge grin, and the pointed nose is cartoonishly long. A pair of glasses cover the eyes, the lenses of which are currently dark.

It’s too big to be a doll. A ventriloquist puppet, maybe? The jaw looks articulated in the way that such puppets usually are. Not that you know much about puppets or puppetry.

But you think they’re usually expensive…though price aside, even this scuffed up, damaged figure seems deserving of a fate better than being tossed into some dumpster. You’ve always been the sentimental sort who feels sorry for lost and damaged toys, despite knowing full well that they’re not “real”.

Someone had once believed they were, and then they just…stopped.

You shake off the melancholy thought with a literal shake of your head, flinging raindrops from your hair. 

You crouch down beside the puppet, tucking your hands under its arms and hoisting it up, only to nearly drop it as your grip fumbles. It’s way heavier than you’d expected! You’d assumed ventriloquist puppets were mostly hollow, but this one certainly isn’t. Maybe your assumption had just been wrong?

It’s going to be more of a pain to lug this thing back to your apartment, but well…in for a penny, in for a pound. Or fifty. Whichever.

There’s also something a bit odd about its joints…its limbs don’t flop around as much as you’d expect, but you chalk that up to the joints being partially stuck.

You carry it upright, your arms around its waist while its arms drape over your shoulders. You swear you hear a slight groan from it as you push the stairwell door open with your hip. It must have a voice box? Did puppets usually have those? Either way, the low, droning suggested the batteries were almost dead. 

You finally make it up to your unit. If it hadn’t been raining you’d’ve been drenched with sweat now. As it is, it’s probably still mostly rainwater, but you try not to think about how much of a sweat you worked up carrying the heavy thing upstairs. 

You kick the door shut behind you, flinching when it closes a bit louder than you’d meant it to. You take the puppet to the kitchen, laying it on its back on the counter. Or trying to…one of its hands gets caught on the hood of your jacket. When you reach up to pull it free, you realize the joints of the hand had curled in at some point, gripping the hoodie.

There’s something…off about that, about this whole thing, but…it’s just a puppet…right?

There’s nothing else it could be, really…

You remove your jacket, tossing it over the back of one of the dining chairs for now. There’s really no reason for you to tend to the puppet before yourself, but…

You grab a paper towel and begin wiping the grime and rainwater from its face, occasionally glancing at the darkened glasses that obscure its eyes. What an odd looking thing…but puppets often are.

You can’t quite tell what it’s made of. Wood or plastic are your best guesses but neither of them quite fit. It has the smooth rigidness of plastic but somehow, paradoxically, it also seems somewhat organic and is a bit warmer than you’d expect a rain soaked toy to be. The material’s even a bit malleable. The nose even has a bit of give, you realize as you push on it experimentally, bending it downwards. Foam, maybe?

As you push on the nose, the head abruptly turns away, and another low, rattly moan plays from the voice box.

With a gasp, you quickly pull away. Does…this thing have some kind of mechanism to move on its own? Maybe it’s only meant to look like a puppet, but is actually more of a robotic toy? That would explain the weight, you suppose…

But it certainly adds to the mystery of why anyone would throw it away.

You cup its cheek in one hand as you use the other to wipe some grime from its hair.

Your gaze drifts downward and you realize its clothes should probably be removed and hung up to dry.

…Why does that thought cause your face to heat up? You’ve fixed up old dolls and toys before, with no particular regard for their modesty.

You’re just tired. You’re tired and had a stressful day and it’s making you just a bit silly. That’s all.

You reach down and start attempting to remove the puppet’s blazer. Before you can undo the first button, though, its arm shoots up, its small hand wrapping around your wrist.

“[[ Showroom model only--not available for purchase! ]] [[ Break it you buy it!! ]]” Two audio clips in two different voices play from somewhere within the puppet.

You scream in surprise, pulling back so quickly you accidentally drag the puppet off the counter before it can let go of your wrist. You don’t fare much better as your heel catches on the leg of a dining chair, causing you to land hard on your rear.

You place a hand over your chest, trying to calm yourself. There’s a rational explanation for the puppet’s movement on the tip of your tongue, but it flies out the window almost immediately.

The puppet stirs. His glasses go from black to grey static as he lifts a hand to his forehead, struggling to get his bearings. The corners of his mouth are turned down in what you guess must be the closest thing to a frown he can muster with his large, semi-permanent grin. 

“Wh-What the hell…” you breathe in a strained whisper.

“[[ Temp--Temp--Temporarily out of service!! ]]” This audio clip is yet another voice. It sounds like the clip was originally recorded in a peppy, upbeat tone, but the playback is so low and garbled you can’t help but compare it to someone at the brink of death struggling to speak.

The puppet goes limp once again, the grey static on his glasses fading back to black. He’s collapsed on the floor, laying on his side in a growing puddle of rainwater as it slowly runs off his clothes.

You stare at him in stunned silence for several moments.

It’s mechanical. Robotic. A weird toy robot…thing…with low batteries and probably a busted circuit board or two.

It’s not alive.

But why would an expensive toy robot be in the dumpster?

Why would a living puppet be in the dumpster???

Your brain’s just fried from work. You need rest. And probably food. The puppet can wait.

You bite your lip. He’s not alive, but…that’s no reason to just leave him on the floor, right?

You quickly grab one of your fluffy bath towels from the linen closet and wrap the puppet in it, carrying him to the living room and laying him on the couch with far more respect and dignity than a totally-not-alive puppet actually needs, even putting one of your throw pillows under his head.

The rainwater’s going to soak through the towel and you’ll have a damp sofa by the time you finish dinner, but…well. It’ll dry. Whatever.

Still…you take a moment to look him over again as you kneel beside the couch. You place a hand on his cheek, turning his head slightly towards yourself. The grimace from before seems to have relaxed into a fairly neutral smile…you guess that must be his “default” expression.

You brush a few stray locks of hair from his face, then adjust his arms so that his hands are atop his chest--a more comfortable resting position than them splayed haphazardly beside him. As you do, you lightly grip one of his hands. It’s a bit smaller than your own, and the joints are fully articulated, giving it the same range of motion as a human hand.

The hand twitches and you quickly drop it. It lands with a soft thud atop his chest.

Enough silliness. You can look over the puppet once you get your head together.

You go into the bathroom, finally stripping out of your wet clothes and hanging them on the curtain rod to dry before changing into your PJs--some flannel lounge pants and an oversize T-shirt. As you walk back to the kitchen, you glance at the puppet on your couch, but force yourself not to stop and check on him again.

You hope some mac and cheese will pull you out of whatever temporary insanity working for twelve hours straight has inflicted upon you.

*

Spamton stirs as the sound of the soft thudding of a wooden spoon stirring a pot of boiling pasta reaches him.

Where…is he? The towel slides off him as he sits up, and he glances at it curiously, running his thumb over the soft, fluffy fabric. There was never anything this nice in the dumpster, that’s for sure.

But he’s also clearly not in his dumpster. He takes in the sight of your dimly lit apartment, the only light coming from the kitchen.

It doesn’t quite look like any sort of Cyber City apartment he’s ever seen. He can’t quite put his finger on why, but…after a second of thought, the word “mundane” pops into his mind. This place is more mundane than any part of Cyber City he’s ever been to. Though…he supposes he’s really only seen the highest highs and lowest lows…maybe the middle tiers of the city are a bit more mundane. It would make a certain amount of sense, though he can’t help but think the answer’s more complicated than that.

He slides off the couch, looking towards the light spilling from the kitchen.

“Mundane” aside, how’d he get into any apartment? As desperate as he’d gotten, he’d never committed B & E…at least for the purpose of sleeping on some stranger’s couch. And how long has it been since anyone had invited him into their home?

How long has it been since…anything?

Spamton wracks his brain, trying to pull up his most recent memory, whatever he was doing before he ended up here. The last thing he can remember--clearly, anyway--is just sitting in his dumpster in the back alleys of Cyber City, about to doze off.

But…somehow that memory seems like it was from long ago. Weeks, at least. And there are glimpses of something more recent that he can’t quite place.

Green wires.

The rollercoaster, with three carts speeding towards him.

A blue-haired, blue-skinned Lightner.

The latter, he had no idea who they were…and that thought caused a pang of guilt in his chest. They were…important. Why couldn’t he remember?

His gaze drifts back towards the kitchen and he slowly steps towards it.

How do you fit into any of this, he wonders?

*

You’re pouring the pasta and water into the strainer when you hear a sound behind you.

The quiet click of hard-soled shoes on kitchen tile.

You turn to glance behind you, more out of instinct than any expectation to actually see anything.

The puppet is up and walking towards you, a sight so shocking on its own that you don’t even notice the curious, borderline timid expression on his face, nor the way his hands are raised slightly as if to assure you he means no harm.

You wish you’d simply frozen at the sight of him.

Instead, your fatigued, nervous, downright jittery brain panics immediately, spinning fully to face him, despite the pot of boiling water in your hand. Lucky for you it’s nearly empty, but “nearly” is still enough for a decent sized splash to land on your bare forearm.

You cry out in pain, clutching your burned arm to your chest as you collapse onto the floor, your back pressed against the cabinets as you stare wide-eyed at the puppet.

“WOAH !! RELAX [[ valued customer ]]!!” the puppet speaks, his voice far clearer than it had been before. Though there’s still a slight static to it, as if it’s being played over a worn out speaker. “[[ Apologies for the inconvenience ]], I’M NOT--”

Spamton cuts himself off when he realizes you’re now staring down at your burned arm. Your hands are shaking as you stare at your blistering skin, tears of pain--and probably fear--welling in your eyes.

“[[ It Burns! Ow! Stop! Help Me! It Burns! ]]”

Your gaze snaps back to him. “What?!” you yelp, incredulous despite the bizarreness of the situation. Why’s he acting like he’s the one who got burned?

No sooner than the thought enters your head than you notice his slack expression, his glasses once again going staticy. But once again, things seem to pivot on a dime and he snaps out of it so fast you wonder if you weren’t just seeing things.

“SORRY!!” he says, holding up his hands. “DIDN’T MEAN TO [[ all kinds of surprises!! ]] YOU!!”

Spamton steps towards you and you shrink back against the cabinets. He takes the hint and backs off, still holding up his hands. After a brief pause, he snaps his fingers, and to your utter astonishment, a miniature, cherub-like version of himself appears and flitters towards you.

You’re too stunned at the sight to even consider pulling away, your jaw going slack as you watch the little creature land weightlessly on your arm and gently pat the blistering, reddening skin. A wave of green sparkly lights washes over your injury and the burns, along with the cherub, disappear.

A one word question echoes in your mind and you can’t help but speak it aloud in a strained, wavering voice.

“Magic…?”

Spamton dips his head in a nod. He holds up a hand, and the cherub reappears, perching on his finger and giving you a little wave. “YEP! JUST A [[ simple, one-stop solution ]] FOR [[ all your routine medical needs ]],” he says, dismissing the cherub with a wave of his hand. He hesitates, then steps towards you again. When you don’t flinch away, he closes the distance between you two, lightly touching your arm.

“NO MORE [[ It Burns! ]]?”

“U-Uhm,” you stammer. The way his voice sounds so pained when switching to the “It Burns” line is unnerving…you guess it’s just a soundbyte, that he’s not actually feeling the pain or distress the voice line suggests. His expression certainly seems to hold genuine concern, despite the semi-permanent smile. “Y-Yeah…I…” You glance down at his hand on your arm.

He really did heal it. Just like that. The pain and blistering just…gone in an instant. You’d guess you were dreaming, but…there’s no way you’d sleep through such intense pain, imagined or not.

“You…do magic,” you say weakly. The laugh you let out borders on manic. “I mean sure, why wouldn’t you do magic?”

Either he doesn’t notice your sarcasm or chooses to ignore it, for he takes a step back, grinning and puffing out his chest. “WHY NOT INDEED? SPAM   SPAMTON G. SPAMTON [[ #1 Rated Salesman 1997 ]] IS A MAN OF [[ dozens of unique skills ]]!” he declares.

“S-Spamton? That’s…your name?” you ask.

He grins, pointing at you while a DING DING DING chime plays, his glasses lenses switching colors on every beat. “AND [[ who do I have the pleasure of speaking to? ]]”

You tell him your name, still dazed.

He stays silent, canting his head and looking up at you uncertainly, seemingly waiting for you to recover.

“Wh-What are you?” you blurt abruptly.

Spamton blinks, but far from being offended at the question, he tosses his head back and lets out a hearty laugh. “HEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The cadence is a bit faster than a human would typically laugh, almost like the rapid fire of a machine gun…but as laughs go it’s far from unpleasant. “[[ Doll ]] I WAS JUST ABOUT TO [[ Ask Away! ]] YOU THE SAME THING!!”

You blink. “Um. I-I’m…a human. Surely…you’ve seen humans before?”

“OF COURSE!! [[ And don’t call me Shirly ]],” he quips. “BUT I’M NOT SEEING ANY [[ Heart-shaped Object ]].”

“H-Heart shaped object?” you repeat, absently rubbing at your chest. You assume he’s not talking about your actual heart.

“YOU’RE NO DARK >n3R…NOT A LIGHT >n3R EITHER?” he asks, canting his head curiously.

“I-I…I mean I guess not, not that…that I know of?” you say helplessly.

You’re a bit surprised he’s the one questioning you. It hadn’t occurred to you that he’d be just as confounded by his situation as you are.

“IS THIS THE DARK WORLD OR LIGHT WORLD?”

You stare blankly. “I…I don’t know? Neither, I…I think?”

“SO THEN…WH    WHERE IN THE [[ Tri-County Area ]] AM I?”

You stammer a moment, not even sure what sort of answer he’d want for that. “M-My apartment?” you say inanely. At his deadpan, unimpressed look you tell him the name of your city, and when that doesn’t ring a bell, you add your state.

He frowns, tapping his chin with one hand.

“Where are you from, then?”

“CYBER CITY, IN THE DARK WORLD.”

“Doesn’t sound like any place near here…I-Is it…really an entirely different world?”

“[[ Survey Says: ]] YES.”

It’s as likely as anything else. Living puppet with healing magic…why not add world-hopping on top of that at this point?

“[[ You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? ]]”

“I…don’t know. I mean, I found you in a dumpster and brought you up here. I have no idea where you were before that…”

“BROUGHT ME [[ all the way up ]] HERE? WHY?”

“I um. Well,” you shift uncomfortably. “I…uh, thought you were a toy or puppet or something…”

“TOY NO, PUPPET YES,” he says. As he admits it, his glasses briefly go staticy and his smile fades, but he quickly shakes it off. “SO, DUMPSTER DIVING FOR [[ marketable goods ]], EH?” he chuckles.

“N-No! It was just--” You bite back your protest. You probably should have just said yes. It’s probably less silly than your real reason. At his expectant look, you feel your cheeks heat up. “I-I just…I like…fixing up old toys and it’s just…k-kinda…sad to see them get abandoned…and you just seemed too--” You cut yourself off again. You should have stopped a sentence or two ago, but once again Spamton is looking at you curiously and you feel compelled to complete your statement. “--F-Fancy…to just…be tossed in some landfill…”

You can see his eyes blink in surprise behind his glasses. His slightly open mouth closes with an audible clack and he chuckles. “WELL I AM A BIT OF A [[ Mr. Fancy-Pants ]]...OR AT LEAST I WAS,” he adds, his grin seeming to fade slightly.

A beat of silence passes as he seems to get lost in his own head for a moment, and you think you start to see bits of static appearing in his glasses. The corners of his mouth start to droop as his smile fades.

“W-Well, nothing a bit of mending won’t fix, right?” you say, assuming he’s only referring to his torn up suit and some of the scuffs on his face and hands.

Spamton snaps out of whatever trance he’s in, looking at you in confusion for a moment before his previous smile returns. 

“...RIGHT. WELL, ANYWAY [[ doll ]], THANKS FOR THE [[ solid assist ]] BUT IT’S ABOUT TIME I [[ hit the road ]].”

You blink. “Um. What?”

He raises a brow. “[[ Hit the road ]], [[ Make like a tree and leaf ]], [[ head off into the sunset in your brand-new cungadero ]]?”

You can’t help but blurt out an incredulous, “To where?” Your cheeks warm and you glance away awkwardly, rubbing your arm. “I-I mean, n-not that it’s any of my business, but…a minute ago you didn’t even know what world you’re in…”

Spamton stares at you a moment before throwing his head back in another laugh. “HEAHAHAHAHA!!” You can’t help but notice the laugh seems a bit forced. “[[ Doll ]], DON’T YOU KNOW A TRUE [[ #1 Salesman 1997 ]] WILL [[ never give up, never surrender!! ]]?”

You finally manage to give a weak smile. “Well…that’s all well and good, but…do you even have a plan?”

“DO YOU?”

“Heh,” you chuckle nervously. “N-Not…a super long term one, but…I’d uh…I’d…feel bad sending you away like this…drenched and dirty with nowhere to go…”

His head tilts slightly to one side as he regards you. “WILLING TO MAKE A [[ Specil Deal ]], [[ doll ]]?”

You blink at his phrasing. “I…don’t know about a deal, but…I-I mean…you can…crash here for tonight? Get washed up, dry your clothes at least?”

“AND WHAT”S THE [[ payment method required ]]?”

“No payment!” you say quickly. “Just…”

“[[ Complimentary service ]]?”

You laugh slightly. “Exactly.”

He considers, rubbing his chin as he tries to figure out what possible catch there could be. Finally, he holds out a hand. “[[ Terms & Conditions Accepted !! ]]”

You let out a more earnest laugh, nodding. “Alright, Spamton,” you say, wrapping your hand around his and giving a hearty handshake.

Spamton steps back, glancing around at the mess you’d made. The pan had clattered to the floor, and there was a puddle of spilled water and a few stray noodles on the floor. Luckily dinner itself is salvageable--the majority of the noodles are still safely in the strainer in the sink.

“[[ Tired of cleaning up after dinner? Why not let -- ]] YOUR [[ good pal ]] SPAMTON TAKE CARE OF THAT?” he offers, going over to pick up the pan, handing it to you as you finally get to your feet.

“Thanks, but…” You lift your gaze past him, seeing the muddy footprints he’s tracked into the kitchen. You smile weakly. “Maybe you should get yourself tidied up first? The bathroom’s just down the hall, I can finish up in here while you shower?”

He follows your gaze to the dirt he’s tracked into the kitchen, then smiles up at you sheepishly. “GOOD POINT. BUT WHY DON”T WE [[ get the best of both worlds ]]?” He snaps his fingers, and two cherubs appear. They smile cutely at you before one of them flies down to the ground to begin gathering the spilled noodles and the other pulls the towel off the oven handle and drapes it over the puddle.

“Heh…s-sounds good…” you say, once again caught off guard by his ability to just…manifest helpful little creatures.

The cherubs finish cleaning while you shake the last of the water from the pasta strainer, rinse out the pan, and start mixing the cheese in with the noodles.

They finish the cleanup before you finish the cooking, and all you have to do is open the cupboard so they can toss the floor noodles away.

“Um, thanks guys?” you say uncertainly.

Their little grins get even wider at your praise and they perch on the edge of the stove, watching you stir the noodles.

You notice they seem to be watching a bit…intently. Their heads bop slightly as they track the motion of the spoon, the reflective pink and yellow lenses on their glasses making it hard to read their expressions.

“Hey uh…m-maybe this is a weird question…” Though you wonder if anything’s a weird question when posed to a pair of tiny puppet cherubs summoned by a magic living puppet from another world. “D’you two…get hungry?”

Their attention perks to you so raptly that you have to assume the answer is a firm yes.

You chuckle weakly at that, scooping out a spoonful of noodles and blowing on it. “D’you like mac and cheese?”

They nod eagerly, making a squeaky trilling sound as they abruptly take off towards the spoon.

“H-Hey! Careful, it’s hot!” you say, holding up a hand to try to block them before they burn themselves.

Your attempt fails, but it doesn’t seem to matter. They dart around your hand and perch on either side of the spoon, greedily shoving the cheesy noodles into their mouths. If the heat is even remotely uncomfortable to them, they’re not showing any sign of it.

“Guess you were hungry…” you say, amused. You grab a piece of paper towel and wrap it around your finger, wiping the cheese from their faces. They make a faint sound of protest, the red on their cheeks growing a bit redder at your attention.

You set the spoon aside and turn the stove to low to keep the food warm. “I’d better check on Spamton,” you say to the cherubs.

As you walk down the hall to the bathroom, you hear the shower switch off and the door opens. A faint cloud of steam emerges, followed closely by Spamton.

One of your hand towels is wrapped around his waist and the other is around his shoulders. He’s using the corner of said towel to wipe the steam from his glasses lenses. Locks of damp hair fall across his forehead and cling to his neck and shoulders, a few droplets running down his bare chest.

His shoulders are wider than you’d expected--seems his blazer isn’t as padded as you’d assumed. His whole frame on the stocky side, and he has a slightly protruding gut that hadn’t really been noticeable under his blazer.

You wish you could blame the cloud of warm steam for your burning face.

“HEY [[ doll ]], WOULD YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A [[ clean-pressed ]] [[ size L T-shirt ]] I COULD BORROW? MY BLAZER IS--” He places his glasses back on his face and cuts himself off when he notices you staring.

A beat of uncertain silence passes before you snap out of it. “Oh! U-U-Uh--Of course!” you squeak. “L-Let me just grab that for you!” you say quickly. You duck into your bedroom without waiting for a response, grabbing one of a large T-shirt and a pair of boxers. You’re not sure how well either will fit him, but you’ve got nothing better to offer right now.

When you get back to the bathroom, he’s standing on the counter in front of a portion of the mirror he’d wiped the fog from. He’s helped himself to one of your combs and is brushing his damp hair from his face.

You try not to look him in the eye--or anywhere else--as you pass him the clothing.

“THANKS, [[ doll ]]!” he says brightly.

You nod, mumbling some lame excuse about needing to check on the food before scurrying back to the kitchen.

When you get there, you see the cherubs have been busy. The table’s been set, and they’ve even taken a couple throw pillows from the couch and piled them on one of the chairs for Spamton. Glancing into the living room, you notice they even refolded the towel Spamton had been wrapped in.

“Oh, thanks guys!” you say, earning another set of happy squeaks from the little pair.

You busy yourself with dishing out the macaroni, and by the time you’re done, Spamton’s emerged from the bathroom.

The PJs you lent him are…suitable. They hang a bit awkwardly on him, but given how different your body shapes are it’s a miracle you had anything that was even remotely wearable for him.

“THANKS AGAIN FOR THE [[ brand-new threads ]] AND [[ hearty, nutritious dinner ]]!” he says, effortlessly hopping up onto the chair and taking his seat. He looks at the bowl of macaroni before him and hesitates, looking up at you uncertainly…perhaps even guiltily. “AND…YOU”RE SURE ALL THIS IS [[ complimentary service ]]?” 

“Sure,” you say easily. “The little guys certainly seemed hungry…I’m…guessing you are too?”

Spamton gives the two cherubs--who are now sitting on the table between you two--a disapproving look. “MANNERS,” he says, pointing the spoon at them accusingly.

You laugh, waving a hand. “Oh no, they were very polite!” you say. A bit overeager, and a bit messy in their own eating, but in your mind all the extra cleaning they did more than makes up for it.

“GOOD,” he says, waving a hand. And with that, the two cherubs disappear, leaving only a few green sparkles in their wake.

“Oh…you didn’t have to send them away…” you say.

Spamton chuckles. “THEY WERE SLEEPY.”

You give a bemused laugh. “I…see. You’d know best I suppose,” you concede. “I’ve never even seen magic before today…”

He glances up in surprise. “NO? NOT EVER?”

“Not real magic, no. Not like…healing burns and conjuring cherubs,” you say.

“MINITONS,” he corrects.

“Pardon?”

“MINITONS. MINI SPAMTONS,” he clarifies with a playful smirk.

“Oh!” you laugh. “That’s…actually kinda cute,” you say.

Spamton gives you a wry look. “IT’S MEANT TO BE [[ concise and informative ]], NOT [[ adorable ]],” he says, though despite his look he sounds more amused than exasperated.

“It can be both,” you retort.

“IF YOU INSIST,” he says with a good natured eye roll.

The conversation ceases as he digs into his meal. His manners are much better than the Minitons of course, but he can’t completely hide the urgency with which he eats…though he does decline your offer of seconds, you sense it’s more out of a sense of guilt at how much you’ve given him than him actually being full.

And possibly being too tired to eat any more. Even with his glasses you can see his eyelids starting to droop by the time he drops his spoon into the empty bowl. But as soon as you get up and make as if to take the dishes to the sink, he snaps back to life.

“WAIT!!” he says, hopping up to stand on his chair, grabbing his bowl before reaching up and taking yours out of your hand. “SINCE YOU COOKED [[ delicis 5-Star meal ]] I’LL [[ cleans and polishes your dishes with a sparkling shine, guaranteed no food residue ]]!!” He grins up at you. “IT’S THE [[ bare minimum as required by law ]].” He blinks at the last part of the statement, his smile turning markedly sheepish. Apparently those little phrases don’t always come out sounding quiiiiite how he wants.

You take it in stride, laughing. “It’s alright, Spamton, really.”

“I INSIST!” he insists, hopping down from his chair and pushing it towards the sink.

“W-Well…I suppose it’s fair…I’ll get the couch set up for you, then,” you say, assuming he’ll want to turn in for the night after he finishes the dishes.

*

Spamton isn’t sure why you’re so keen on helping him, but…he also can’t afford to say no. He assumes he’ll be on his way tomorrow…even though he still doesn’t have an answer to the question you posed earlier.

To where?

He has no idea how to get back to the Dark World, and he gets the feeling he’s not exactly going to fit seamlessly into this one.

If he were more awake, anxiety would be gnawing at him, but even his anxieties are too tired for that right now.

He finishes the dishes, and despite his fatigue he does get them spotless as promised.

He hops down from the chair, forgetting to push it back to the table, and trudges tiredly into the living room.

Spamton stops, staring in surprise at what he sees.

Apparently your couch has a pullout bed, which you’ve set up with two blankets and a couple plush pillows, despite the fact that the couch itself had been more than big enough for him to sleep on. Hell, he could have scraped by with just one of those pillows to curl up on for the night.

“ALL THIS FOR [[ lil’ ol’ me ]]?” he asks, stunned as you finish fluffing the second pillow and toss it into place.

You shrug. “Sure, why not? I got a pullout couch for a reason,” you say. “Besides, the cushions were still damp, and the mattress is a bit more comfortable, I think.”

Spamton looks up at you uncertainly, his mouth opening and closing a couple times. Insisting that the couch is fine would only mean you having to re-fold the pullout bed. He runs a hand over the soft blankets, far cleaner and softer than any bedding he’s had in a long time. “[[ …thank you… ]]”

Your cheeks warm at the quiet sincerity in his tone. “No problem, Spamton…” you say softly. “I-I’ll um…see you in the morning, then?”

He hops onto the bed, scooting to the pillow and pulling the blanket back. “YES. OF COURSE, [[ doll ]].”

You nod, readily giving him his space and heading to your own room and climbing into your own bed.

You’d said he could stay for the night, but in reality, you have the same doubts Spamton does…and if anything, you have a more realistic idea of how unrealistic it is for him to just…leave and make his way in the world.

A conversation to have over breakfast, you suppose.

[mediumgayitalian]

this post: I NEED A SOLANGELO OFFICE AU FIC WHERE NICO IS THE CEO AND COLD AND EVERYONE HATES HIM AND WILL IS HIS ASSISTANT WHO THINKS HE'S HIT BUT STILL THINKS HE'S MEAN AND STRAIGHT BUT SOMETHING HAPPENS AND THEY GRADUALLY GROW CLOSER AND NICO STARTS WARMING UP TO HIM AND IT'S MUTUAL PINING AND UGH SOMEONE WRITE THIS PLEASE I BEG

(https://www.tumblr.com/icantspelll/782319142725369856/i-need-a-solangelo-office-au-fic-where-nico-is-the?source=share)

👀👀

oh ho ho. happy you asked. post here. excuse me as this is a little all over the place and also somehow 3500 fucking words again and also i pretty much wrote the climax scene but WHATEVER its in my head now

modern au obviously.

there is a car accident.

a big one.

lee is brain-dead. on life support, and getting constant visitation, but...yeah there's not a lot of hope there. michael is in somewhat of a halfway house, newly unable to walk, at least for now, and with a host of other symptoms that make living at home hard. he needs assisted car.

will got off relatively scot-free. he had some minor brain damage and now has a migraine disorder and a shitton of burn scars from trying to drag his brothers out of a burning vehicle before they all blew up.

him and his mother also now have a whole lot of debt.

(it does not help that michael refuses to see them...the guilt from being the driver is hard. will is devastated to have lost not one brother, but two, in some ways.)

he starts working for this medical nonprofit partially because theyre hiring (desperate for a PA bc no one will stay under nico's bitch ass long enough) and also bc he's hoping to do a little fraud and get his bills paid maybe

(theyre desperate.)

rachel hires will i think. she is nervous in the interview not in the shy way but in the oh god i cannot tell him whats actually waiting for him way. i dont want him to walk out. fuck.

i think shes the main secretary. yeah.

nico interrupts the interview to bark about needing something.

rachel is so crushed bc now this guy will never accept the position fuck.

except will takes it easy as anything -- he DID go through med school and is very used to being yelled at and treated like shit by superiors. he has also worked in service. he doesnt even blink. its about dry cleaning or some dumb shit like that, just something nico needs picked up and fast because hes already late and irritable

so wills like ive got it sir. gimme an address and ill bring it to your office. can i get you a coffee while you wait?

and his voice is light, then he raises his eyebrows, slightly, and says, same tone, but eyes a little steely, or perhaps a xanax?

and rachel CHOKES.

but nico just scowls and go coffee is fine. GOOD espresso from this specific coffee shop or im not paying for it.

so rachel is like god fuck you want the job then? and will is like yah sounds good. and hauls ass immediately to the coffee shop, which happens to be the one lou or cecil work at, and he gets special best friend privileges to skip to the front of the line and get his espresso going I GOT THE JOB OKAY LOVE YOU BYE and hauls ass to whatever errand. comes back.

and its just.

for weeks nico is increasingly more demanding and absurd, like he usually is, because PAs quit after a week. but will is NOT QUITTING. so nico is kind of taking it like a challenge to be more and more impossible but will takes everything in stride with quick attitude and no issues whatsoever.

nico asks him to do four things at once and will is like "hm impossible as i am not heracles try that one again" and nico, kind of shocked since no one has ever outright refused him before, DOES. he asks for something more reasonable

like will is SO GOOD. he knows all the medical terminology, hes fast, he knows EVERYBODY, and with him as nicos PA meetings go better?? somehow?? people are charmed by will's smile and quick wit and boy is it a break from nico's snapping.

because they like will more theyre less likely to be difficult for nico, and the actual nonprofit stuff they are trying to do gets a lot easier to do

nico would be huffy about it but like. will makes his life easier too

seems to always know when nico has a headache and when he was sick refused to let him come into the office, shoved his ass onto the subway -- where he had never been even once in his life -- and brought him back to his (penthouse.) apartment and cared for him until he passed out

they dont talk about it but its like the most caring nico has recieved in a hot minute and it def changes the vibe between them

nico is gruff but he is less abrasive. he thanks will when will does stuff for him. he actually eats when will brings his meals and cheerfully sits with him instead of scowling out the window. he even lets will coach him on being less of a jackass in meetings and (tries) to take that advice.

the office is gagged. will is EVERYTHING.

but then nico gets this -- inoccuous notification.

about a small case file being approved, money being sent somewhere.

and he frowns because...he didnt approve that.

nico may be a nightmare but he is a nightmare who CARES. he looks at every file on his desk. he remembers details for every case he can.

and he did NOT send money to this particular care facility. as it is usually covered by their rival company and nico knows better than to mess with that

but he looks further into it and realizes there have been a LOT of funds sent without his approval. and he realizes that the person approving them has been will.

and he is FURIOUS.

this boy he has trusted -- he has let into his HOME, he has shared meals with, he has laughed with and even shared secrets with -- is fucking with his company. and sending money to OCTAVIAN'S insurance company no less, their biggest rival.

he calls will over and fires him on the spot basically.

will cant explain himself. everything is falling apart around him. he doesnt even have the words.

hes a little heartbroken, too. because nico -- the man whom hes really starting to fall for -- calls him a fraud, and hes right.

he doesnt even pack his things. he turns around and leaves.

he doesnt cry, on the walk to the subway. even though its dark. he doesnt cry at the station. he doesnt cry on the train.

he cries a hundred yards from the lobby of his shithole apartment building, because he left the keychain his little cousin made for him on his work lanyard, now on nico's desk, and he wont ever get it back.

hes depressed as hell. he wont stay in his room, because that scares his mother, but he drags himself to michael's facility every day even though michael still wont see him and plays with the kids living there, trying not to feel too sorry for himself. and then he drags himself to lee, even though lee is fucking brain dead, and then he drags himself to whatever part time job he can find.

nico, on the other hand, is a NIGHTMARE.

will has been there long enough that everyone has kind of forgotten who he was before, but whatever he was, this version is worse. hes acerbic and sullen and fucking AWFUL. almost cruel. people come back from meetings in frustrated tears and not even rachel can stand to work with him. the atmosphere in the office is shot.

she comes to him, one late night.

i know he stole from us. and i know thats hard. but he was good, nico. he was a good person. i think you should at least find out why.

nico just ignores her. rachel sighs, and walks away. shes ready to find a new job, honestly -- she is proud of the work she is doing at this company and she has worked here so long, but this is unbearable. she cant live like this. shes not even the only one who feels this way.

one day nico sends for coffee. they still have no PA so jason volunteers to get it, and he comes back, way later than he should be, and he is bright eyed and frantic and there is a barista in tow behind him. and jason doesnt even leave the lobby he hollers for nico to get his ass over. nico does, eventually, scowling at his shouting, snapping at him what the fuck is your problem im busy and jason is like NO. no. dont talk to me like that. dont GIVE me that! you dont fucking listen. you dont listen to a single other person, nico, and that is your problem!

and nico locks his jaw and goes fine, then.

and jason falters and hes like no, no. since you know everything. go on.

and there are like.

crowds.

but jason doesnt care and nico is not looking. so jason takes a deep breath and goes firing will was wrong.

and nico goes the man who stole from us? that was wrong?

and jason steels himself and says firmly yes. did you even ask him why?

and nico says im not one to give alibis to thieves, no.

but jason scowls and goes LISTEN, you prick. listen. and he gestures to cecil, who is following the exchange with wide eyes and kind of realizing for the first time how maybe fucked his best friend is.

but if theres one thing about cecil markowitz its that he's LOYAL.

so he straightens up and gets serious and goes: how much do you know about will's car accident.

and nico blinks. and hes like. wills what.

and cecil is like. you know. the car accident that disabled him for life (migraines & brain damage) and killed his brother and got his other brother in assisted living facility. he spent like 15 hours of his day with you. im sure you talked about it.

and nico kind of pales because he is like oh no. oh god no please tell me he did not commit fraud for the most selfless possible reason and i punished him for it.

and cecils eyes kind of harden and he goes yeah. the disabilities that are invisible for him so that insurance companies refuse to help him. and the hospital that is charging him out of life and liberty to keep his brother on life support. surely you know about these things. that he is working so hard to fix. surely you are aware. and nico just quietly goes no. i didnt know.

and cecil goes did you ask?

did you ask about him, ever?

about his life?

his friends and his needs and the reason he sometimes called in because he was curled up on his bed with a pillow over his head in so much pain he can't speak? did you? ask about that?

and nico realizes that this is bigger than the fraud, maybe. this is, as cecil is implying, almost a year of constant CONSTANT effort from will; will sitting with him on long nights and helping him with hard cases and squeezing his hand as he whispers about his sister. effort that has not been funnelled back -- nico realizes he doesn't know will's legal name. he realizes he doesn't know his address. his -- fuck -- his favorite flowers, although will has brought him sunflowers -- his favorite -- on more than one occasion. so nico turns to cecil determined and is like help me fix it.

and cecil is like honestly im not sure i want you around my best friend. like to be real. he loves you and you didnt even give him a chance to defend himself.

and nico nods and hes like i know. i fucked up. i will make it up to him for the rest of my life.

so cecil begrudingly helps him and points out the flowers will likes on the walk. and they get to will's apartment and his mother answers the buzz and she softens, a little, because she can see just from how will speaks of this man that he loves him, even if he's made a mistake. so she tells him that he's with his brother. he is most days.

and cecil says well i am going to leave you to it. i -- can't go back there. lee was my friend too.

so nico swallows his pain and heads up to the local hospital. and the secretaries and nurses know will by NAME -- he may not have completed his residency but he has an MD, still. he was a prodigy, too, graduated early. he knows his shit and he knows his shit well, and while he isnt employed or anything he sure helps them a whole lot.

so nico follows their directions to lee's room and when he gets there will is --

well, will is balanced on lee's bed, tongue sticking out of his mouth, illegaly painting something on the wall. a sun, in the corner, by the looks of it. and dotted stars on the ceiling.

nico is like well i see where half the bills are coming from now. and will SHRIEKS and falls off the bed and nico catches him, barely, and smiles and says youre gonna get charged for vandalism, dumbass.

and will pulls away wide eyed and is like. nico. oh.

and it does not escape nico's notice that he puts himself between nico and his brother.

and boy does that feel like shit.

so nico sits down on the chair a fair distance from him and waits for will to sit too. and they lay there in silence for a significant chunk of time before nico is like, just straight up: im sorry. i made a mistake.

and will doesnt really look at him and is like i uh. i did technically funnel several thousand dollars from your company. you were not exactly in the wrong.

and nico shakes his head and hes like i mean more than that. i did not treat you well.

you dont treat anyone well.

no, you're -- different.

im different?

yes.

nico pauses, staring out the window.

i took advantage of you, i think.

and will doesnt really answer he just stares. and nico looks back at him finally and he has his hand brushing over lee's arm, absentmindedly, by habit pulling up his covers and brushing back his hair. he looks at nico the whole time.

and nico says i think you are a carer. most of all. you care for people. and you came to my company and i was in this dark space, that i have been in most of my life. i was used to it. and then you come in with your brightness and heat and i clung to you, even as i scorned you in the beginning, because you were the light after plato's cave, you know? it stung and i was sullen and hesitant but god for the first tme everything lit up.

and that just wasnt...thats not fair to you, i guess. i never thought about what you need. youre a person, not a bright thing. and im sorry for that.

and will goes well i was like. your hired assistant.

and he squirms and hes like and honestly you kind of helped me too.

and nico isnt quite ready to accept it. he says your friend tells me you were a doctor.

and will nods. almost.

a doctor, will. i didnt even know.

well, i dont talk about it.

will avoids his gaze and there is a beeping from lee's monitor, so he stands and fixes it with practice and ease. nico watches his shaking fingers still as they adjust his saline, like it is nothing.

i dont know -- how. my brother wont talk to me. lee is -- dead, functionally.

he chokes as he says it.

i relied on my brothers every day of my life and then i woke up one day and didnt recognise myself in the mirror and my two favorite people in the world were -- gone. i was adrift.

will shrugs.

i quit my program. i -- couldnt do it anyway, i guess, cant cut someone open with shaking hands. i just cried most days and struggled and the debt kept getting worse and i wanted to -- well. he doesnt say it but nico gets it, suddenly and horrifically -- will fiddles with the bandage always on his wrist and nico realizes what it hides, what will has tried to do.

i convinced myself i didnt have a purpose, nico. i was so sure of it. he looks to nico and his eyes are so dark in the setting sun. nico cant breathe.

but you gave me something, again. i mean, you were a piece of work and i went home and complained about you to anyone -- and i mean anyone -- who would listen --

he grins, and nico huffs a laugh, not doubting it --

-- but fuck, neeks. for the first time in too long i was me again. there was someone i could help. and -- well, not a bad someone either.

he looks down and there is a curl to his shoulders that is almost shy. nico stares at it, at the bob of his throat, and his mouth goes dry.

you're funny, even when youre being a jackass. and you care about people and you get things done and you arent bothered by my attitude.

i like it, nico admits, heart pounding. will looks at him and he flushes but pushes forward, still, forces the words out of his mouth. i like it when you push back at me. it makes me feel like a -- human, again. like someone who can be wrong instead of an untouchable entity.

will snorts. well i can most certainly promise you that you are wrong often.

nico quirks his lips. i know. i know. he breathes out, smile dropping. and i was hugely wrong, will, in casting you away. the foam of the arm rest creaks under his fingers. i -- want you back, if you want to come back.

will exhales, fingers tracing the swirls of lee's bedsheets. nico's heart sinks, and he knows what will is going to say before he says it.

i don't think i can work for you anymore, he confirms. he bites his lip. i -- it was a lot, nico.

nico nods, chest tight. i know. i totally under--

plus, there's something of a conflict of interest.

nico whips his head up. what?

will avoids his eyes, breathing quick and shallow, shoulders up to his ears. i'm. i think its frowned upon, when the PA wants to sleep with the boss. whole trope and everything.

nico feels his heart stutter. he meets will's guarded, careful eyes with his own wide ones, and stares, one minute, two, until the barely-there hope in will's eyes starts to fade, until he nods to himself.

i hope you'll still write me a reference letter, will jokes lightly. i mean, i dont see a lot of PAing in my future but --

im in love with you, nico blurts. marry me.

will freezes. uh.

i mean! i mean, fuck, im sorry, i -- nico is bright red and he feels it, and wills nervous little giggle makes it worse, fuck, what is he doing.

he exhales, long and slow. he balls his fists and lets go of the tension, like jason taught him. he meets will's eyes again, and this time his voice is steady.

not yet, he says firmly. don't marry me -- yet. but. he breathes out again. try, with me. he swallows. if you want to.

i want to, will says, softly.

we can get you back to med school, if you want. something other than surgery. people need doctors, will, you can always --

i want to.

-- any school you want, if you still need school -- do you still need school? -- ill pay for it, i can --

i want to.

-- i promise i am not hurting for money and thats what this whole organization is, isnt it, making the medical field more accessible, and --

nico.

nico freezes, gulping in a huge breath. will sets his brother's hand lovingly down and moves until he is crouching in front of nico's hyperventilating form, both hands gently squeezing his.

deep breaths, nico. follow me.

nico does, inhaling when he breathes in, huge and exaggerated, and exhaling when he breathes out. will keeps breathing with him until the shake in his chest steadies, until the bounce of his legs slows to something more normal.

ill marry you, nico, he says quietly. if you still want to marry me.

nico nods frantically. i do. gods, will, i do.

he places a hand on will's scarred cheek, and will leans into it, tired but soft, hesitant but believing.

i do.

long engagement, will says. he smiles wryly. it'll take you two years at least to make up for all the shit youve thrown at me.

nico laughs, drawing him in close. as long as you need, he promises. we'll do it your way, for this. we tend to, anyways. okay and they kiss etc etc

epilogue is as expected. they get married. will gets his residency in paediatrics and starts his own practice. he sees patients in low income high debt areas specifically and nicos company fights the shitball insurance policies for them. it takes time, but eventually they let lee pass. nico is there for the funeral, squeezing wills hand as he cries through his eulogy. michael lets his brother in, again, coming eventually to their company.

nicos new PA is an old largely-retired man who was once will's favourite prof. his work under nico is easy. his position is revered, and he has large shoes to fill.

the end.

some thoughts from my earliest stage of brainstorming before i hit my roll:

nico would be such a sullen asshole trying to scare will off like the rest of his PAs and wills stubborn ass is like well none of your other PAs were broke enough apparently because you could violate several subsequent labor laws in front of me and im not going anywhere. jackass. ill show you what it looks like to need MONEY

i think it would also b really funny if when will initially hears back from his application cecil and lou ellen are wide eyed going you cannot work for DI ANGELO. mafia man?????? will you are so mouthy you are going to end up dead and will is like bitch we cant eat im going to end up dead ANYWAY

but he is a little afraid of mafia man nico

that is what first breaks the tension. will mouths nico off and nico calls him into his office, sits him across his desk and just stares, silent and deadly. and after several minutes of squirming will snaps if youre going to get your mafia cronies to off me you should know my life insurance payout is fucking insane and that will be a hassle for you to handle

and

there will be no gentle parenting nico into manners here will brings a spray bottle 💀

"get me x and x's number now"

(spray)

"MOTHERFU" (through gritted teeth) "get me their number please"

(spray)

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME."

"treat me like a person"

"...sorry. can you please get me their number."

"yes, thank you for asking."

other employees are watching in awe and fear

jason personally buys him lunch for a week