#I'm scared for whoever found it

[cherryyluvs]

Little Notes, Big Feelings

Notes in your locker, simple, and anonymous. A little bit sweet. You never expected Mark Grayson confessing that he likes you. ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It started with a note, neatly folded and tucked in between the vents of your locker. Just barely sticking out and impossible to miss.

You were half asleep still rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. grabbing the little slip of paper “Pop quiz in Johnson's class today. Hope you studied. (I didn't, Whoops.)"

You blinked at it, turning it over just to see no name, no clue on who wrote it. Just a simple, neat handwriting, and a tiny smiling doodle of Seance dog in the corner. You glanced around the busy hallway, scanning faces. But no one seemed to be watching you. Just students going to their class, laughing with their friends, and stuffing books into their bags.

Weird. But sweet.

After that notes kept coming, little messages that made you smile. “Did you see the new episode of Seance Dog? Crazy right?” Other times they would be personal. “You looked really happy today.” You kept every single one, tucking them into your notebook like they were little treasures. You found yourself looking forward to them, and you wanted to know them too. So one afternoon you decided to write back, slipping a note into your own locker. Leaving it right where the mysterious writer had been placing theirs. “Okay, secret admirer, your turn. Who are you?”

The next morning a reply was waiting. “If i tell you. It ruins the fun doesn't it?” You let out a huff, fine.

If they wanted to play, you’d play. The back and forth went on for weeks! You had asked what their favorite color was (Yellow but sometimes blue) . Some were rants about a new superhero sighting or how the cafeteria’s chicken nuggets are a danger to society. “The cafeteria nuggets are definitely a health hazard. Stay safe out there”

There's a response the next morning, “RIGHT?? I'm glad someone gets it. Also I can neither confirm or deny that I saw one of those nuggets move.” The messages became part of your daily routine, a little secret, something that made the school day a little brighter.

And one day you found a note that made your heart drop.

“Would it be weird if i said i kinda like you?” Your fingers trembled slightly as you held the small piece of paper. This wasn't just playful anymore, this is real. At this point you needed to know who it was.

You waited, keeping an eye out at your locker, hoping to catch them in the act. Whoever they were, they were good at being sneaky. So you tried a different approach.

You left a note in return, simple and direct. “Not weird. Kind of sweet, but I think i'd like it more if I knew who you were.”

The next day there was no note, and after that, nothing. Your heart sank, had you scared them off? Had they changed their mind? It gnawed at you, making you realize just how much these silly little notes meant to you.

And then it finally happened. You were at your locker, gathering books for your next class, when a voice behind you cleared their throat. “Uh… hey.” You turned around to face the stranger and there he was. Mark Grayson, moving nervously on his feet, his easygoing confidence nowhere to be found. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes but you could see the pink creeping on his cheeks.

It clicked instantly. The handwriting on the notes, the way he always looked in your direction in class when you weren't paying attention. Mark, who was sweet and awkward, always rambling about comics and superhero movies.

“You're-”

He exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for days. “Yeah it's me.” Your heart fluttered, warmth flooding into your chest.

Mark Grayson, you'd noticed him, you never thought if he had noticed you but he had. And for a long time apparently, “So.. was that too weird? He asked hesitantly. “I can stop if-” You shook your head, a small smile creeping onto your face.

Pulling out a pen from your purse and grabbing his wrist, before he could question it, you scribbled onto his palm.

“No, not weird at all.” When he read it, his entire face lit up.

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - Part 1

Prompt: Dan kills the joker and unintentionally becomes a crime lord

Dan didn't mean to become a Crime Lord. It wasn't his fault that the Joker was fragile and easily killable with one punch to the head. He didn't know that the seemingly immortal clown was easily killed once the impact practically snapped his neck. So yes, Dan didn't mean for this shit to happen. Not when all he wanted to do was go to college, make sure Danny and Elle weren't attracting trouble back in Gotham academy.

It wasn't his fault that the crazy bastard thought it was a good idea to nab his siblings and try to use them for ransom. It's not his fault that his first instinct was to introduce his first to that pennywise knock-off. It'd not his fault that this city was haunted by vengeful ghosts that wanted to tear that motherfucker to shreds.

They were supposed to lay low after the mess with their parents and their name changes.

But nooooo!

They had to have an absolute hatred for clowns and now he's somehow made himself a crime lord. Why the fuck were the Joker's goons so fucking stupid?! They either tried to kill Dan for killing their boss or they tried to fall under him and make him their new leader. It was like a fucking cult in his eyes. Seriously, what the absolute fuck was going on with this shitty city?

It's not like he could call Jazz and say "Hi sis! I killed a crazy clown and I'm now the boss of his weird goons. I also might end up on the local vigilante's hitlist."

Yeah, no. He's not doing that.

But this might not be so bad... Not really. Being their boss could be treated as a source of income if he utilized the Joker's shit properly. I mean, he couldn't always rely on the fruitloops money, not when Vlad could turn traitor and use the money against them. He needed to find a way to support his siblings, one way or another.

And Clockwork did say to get a hobby. If not mass genocide then he could resort to carefully planned crime. Yes. This could work. He'll make it fucking work for the sake of his siblings.

Besides, if he was a crime lord—in motherfucking Gotham—he doubts that the GIW will even try to fuck around in a city where a ghost controlled some part of the criminal underworld.

Oh... Oh, he was gonna fucking do this.

(Clockwork watched as his most troublesome child shifts from world ender to crime lord. At least it was an upgrade from mass genocide.)

Nightwing didn't particularly know what to make of this mess. There were rumors of a new crime lord, of a new rogue.

One day, Joker's body was dropped into the harbor and found by the workers, all confused and scared as to why the Clown Prince of crime was dead in the water. It was humiliating in the Joker's standards, to be discarded like trash into the sea rather than have his body displayed for everyone to gawk at. The clown would have adored being glorified but whoever the hell killed him knew this and fucked the guy up bad.

His head snapped and his corpse tossed out like leftovers.

Jason had laughed, outright celebrated and Crime Alley was as festive as it ever was with the Red Hood blasting music through the streets and partying like there was no tomorrow. All of Gotham was celebrating, parading through the streets with pinatas that looked like the Joker. Harley would drop down from whatever roof she was on and swing her bat at the pinata, spilling red candy as everyone cheered and laughed. It was morbidly glorious.

But the festivities didn't erase the fact that someone had killed the Joker and knew what to do to disrespect him in the worst ways possible. It wasn't long until Joker's old lackeys were rallying to someone—a new boss. It wasn't odd for goons without bosses to move on to find different jobs, but for all of Joker's old minions to work for the same person? This was definitely the guy who killed the Joker.

No name, no appearance, nothing. Just quiet activity with organising his new goons to do strange errands. Stuff that didn't point them in the direction of criminal activity.

"You got anything?" Dick murmurs as Tim slouches over the batcomputer, watching as his younger brother sneered at the screen.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He snaps, "All footage of this new rogue is immediately corrupted."

Babs hums, "And it's not like it's altered after it's been taken. The distortion happens live. They either have some tech on them or they're a meta who can avoid cameras." She adds, taking a leisure sip of the tea Alfred kindly offered them. "Whoever this is doesn't leave a trace aside from this shitty footage."

Tim groans, "I officially hate this guy!" He almost tosses his mug out of anger, shaking his head.

"Does Jason have any info on this one?"

And like the fucking menace he was, Jason pops up without another word. "He goes by Wraith." No one was startled, just sparing him a glance before nodding.

"That's it?"

"The goonions adore him." Jason shrugs, "Guy's been quick. Dealing with shit like Black Mask and other trafficking operations. Some of the kids he's saved wear clothes that have this specific symbol on them. It's a good tactic mind you. Tells people to fuck off and don't come anywhere near the kid or else he'll sic whatever bullshit he has in someone."

Dick narrowed his eyes, "Is it effective?"

"Hell yeah! One of the kids got kidnapped just last week. I went to save the poor thing but he walked out of that warehouse while the kidnappers were bleeding and sobbing." Jason once again grins, "Little Tommy threatened me if I try to arrest Wraith."

"So more anti-heri than villain. Good enough, at least." Dick sighed, shaking his head as he narrowed his eyes on the screen. More distorted footage.

"Thanks for the info, little wing."

"Just updatin' you guys. Heard some rumors that Harley's on the hunt for Wraith to thank him."

Great...

It's been a solid two months since the death of the Joker. Batman and the rest of his birds were increasingly wary of the Wraith and his two new associates that went by Phantom and Specter. No footage on the three could ever be recovered, making them all assume this was the work of a meta.

Most of them weren't sure if this guy was a threat or not. Red Hood, on the other hand, had a fairly positive opinion on the guy who's been hanging traffickers by their legs and immediately staking their claim on the kid to keep them safe.

The new crime lord was slowly dismantling the criminal underworld and building it back up to their design.

"FUCKING HELL!" Dick glared at the screen again, "That's Wraith's doing, isn't it? No way did the Riddler blow up that building."

"Wraith's only been dealing with traffickers so far. Why would he do this?" Steph murmurs, staring at the recording of a building that had suddenly went off. Numerous were dead, some barely survived.

"That's the motherfucker's symbol." Dick pointed to the glowing green symbol that looked liked a fire with some obscure letter they couldn't really make out. (Was it a D or a P?)

"Okay... Why would Wraith blow up a building and kill everyone?" Jason immediately asked, seeming to be defensive of the man. "He doesn't just kill people, Dick."

"Even so..." Bruce grunts, clearly displeased with the bloodshed. All that death...

"We're going after him." Bruce announced, "I'm not putting of the Wraith investigation anymore."

Dan stared at the pictures of the bodies, pudding out smoke without a cigarette in sight. His new minions—they preferred the term goons—were clearly apprehensive and continued to observe their new boss's expressions. This explosion had been his first act of pure and utter violence, a massacre of sorts.

He glances at Danny who melted out of the shadows, startling his goons.

"Can't say I'm not upset but I get why you did that shit." He begrudgingly admits, sitting across Dan. Phantom was a reluctant associate to his new organization of crime—ish.

"They weren't just trafficking kids, squirt. Pimping them, killing them and selling their organs, hosting matches and making meta kids fight to the fucking death." Dan clicked his tongue, "No redemption in that, Phantom."

"I get it, alright!" Danny snapped, "But the you've gotten the direct attention of the Bats now. They're gonna come for us, Wraith."

"Boss?" One of the goons—Dan remembers him as Jeremy Nelson. One guy just trying to support himself and his kid, trying to keep his sweet little daughter in school with as much money as he could get. Dan remembers giving the man a raise and a jacket with their family's symbol stitched into it—one for little Marigold.

"I'll deal with it. For now, you guys spread the word on that shit. I don't want anyone thinking I killed a bunch of kids." Dan growled, "My reputation can burn for all care, but like hell am I letting people think I hurt kids."

With Jeremy leading the other goons, he nodded and hurried out of the office to spread a word. The former Joker goons had taken a liking to their new boss, preferring his ways rather than their dead one.

"Jazz won't like this, y'know." Danny sighs, "I'm not gonna tell her. Never. But she'll find out, one way or another."

Dan frowns, "You think I don't know? It's Jazz, Danny."

"Yeah, yeah. I just didn't expect you to be like this. Crime Lord and everything."

Dan snorts, "I was the world ender, brat. This is mild compared to what I've done."

"Yeah, sure."

He shook his head, "You've got your own problems, brat. The Observants are still fussin' about you being king, your majesty."

An identical scowl looks back at Dan, and he's reminded that this kid is him. An alternate version of himself and yet they were brothers now. "I know. You killing the Joker fucked some stuff up. Apparently, the motherfucker was cursed to hell."

"Meaning?"

"He's got a lifetime of people in his shadow. Vengefu souls that want him dead." Danny huffs, "Had to deal with the paperwork cause everyone's wantin' a taste of him. I'm workin' on letting Walker release him so his victims can execute his soul."

"Cruel, little king."

"I'll give you his file. Bastard deserves to have his soul destroyed." Danny viciously grins. And once again, best reminded that this twerp is him. They were one and the same, different as well.

"Alright, alright. Fuck off now. We've still got some bats and birds to deal with." Dan immediately showed him away, noting Danny's eye roll.

"Better prepare a birdcage then."

Part 2 | Masterlist

[darkbluekies]

Stupid people

Yandere!mafia!oc x reader

Summary: a number sends Silas a picture of darling that sends him into rage

Warnings: murder, mentions of NSFW, Silas lashes out towards darling, guilt, slight indication of a character asking if it was consensual (it was — the deed, not the pictures), pictures taken without permission, punching and kicking between legs

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: to clarify, the photos are taken AFTER the deed, not during!

There's only two people Silas likes enough to let them be in his office for more than asking a question — you and SIC.

“Stupid people are my favorite kind of people”, SIC says from the couch, eyes glued onto his phone. “Some idiot here tried to jump from a roof.”

“If only our enemies did that so that i didn't have to go kill them”, Silas smirks.

“Since when were we that lucky?”

A notification on his own phone caught his attention. Silas picks it up and unlocks it, seeing that the notification is from an unsaved number. He clenches his jaw. Photos. It takes a second for him to realize what — who — is in these two photos. He can recognise that back among millions. He sees that back every night, always holding it close to his chest.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts and rises from his chair in a swift.

“What?” SIC asks quickly, looking up from his screen.

Silas slams his phone down on the floor. It shatters and explodes in every direction. SIC jumps up from the couch.

“Woah, what’s going on?” he asks quickly. 

Silas can't reply. His heart is hammering in his throat. If he tries to speak, it'll jump out. His entire body is shaking. He's been mad before, but nothing compares to what he feels when you are involved.

“Silas?” SIC asks. “Sit down.”

He presses Silas down in the chair again.

“What happened?” he asks. “Give me a real fucking answer this time.”

“Some disgusting little bitch sent me photos of Y/N”,  he spits out, growing angrier by every word. “Naked, in a bed. I think you can figure out the rest yourself.”

SIC blinks. “Shit. Who?”

Silas gestures manically towards the broken phone. “I didn't write the number down before I fucking smashed it!”

“Alright. I'll take out the sim card and put it in my phone. I can find out.”

“Don't look at the photos, got that? I'm not joking. I will beat you up if I find out that you've looked at the photos.”

“Don't worry, boss, I won't.”

Silas sighs in frustration. He storms out of his office, up the stairs and throws up the door to your shared bedroom. You're nowhere to be found.

“Y/N!” he shouts angrily.

You come out of the bathroom, looking bewildered. A fear grows on your face when you realize how mad he is.

“What's wrong?” you ask quickly.

“Who the fuck have taken pics of you while having sex?!” he shouts. “Who is the low creature that has pictures of you?!”

Your eyes widen.

“What?” you ask. “Silas-”

He moves closer and you can't describe his demeanor in any other way than threatening. You stumble backwards, finally reaching the wall. Even when he's mad, he'd never do things to make you scared of him, never show you the side he shows his men and enemies. But this time, he doesn't seem to care about holding back. You get to see what everyone else sees.

“Whoever the little fucker is, I will shove that camera of his so far up his ass it'll puncture a lung, do you understand that?” Silas spits, face mere centimeters from your face. 

“Silas, I-”, you stutter.

Silas grabs the perfume standing on the shelf beside you and sends it flying across The room, breaking against the wall. You watch on in complete horror. Not even in the basement is he this violent, not around you.

Behind him, you see SIC run into the room, stopping in the doorway. He watches on with wide eyes.

“Who is it?” he spits before raising his voice. “Give me the name of the worthless little creature! I'll kill him!”

“Silas, I don't know!” you shout loudly in order to be heard over his own shouting. Tears blurry your vision as silence fills the room. “I d-don't know, I swear! I have no knowledge of a-any pictures taken of me. Please don’t be mad at me, I don’t know anything, I s-swear …”

You have wrapped your arms around yourself. You look so incredibly small. And helpless. He feels as if someone has punched him right in the stomach. He can't bring himself to shout at you. The fire in his eyes seems to blow out, leaving his eyes as dark as they should. He breathes heavily, feeling empty and painfully aware of everything around him — every little sound, movement. He finally realizes what's going on.

“Fuck”, he breathes out in a whisper and pulls you into his arms, into a tight embrace. “I'm so sorry.”

You sob into his shoulder, voice getting muffled in his white shirt. Silas hugs you as if his life depends on it.

“Baby, I didn't mean to shout at you”, he whispers. “I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that disgusting filth. Not you, do you understand?”

He pulls you back and covers your face in apologetic kisses, caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears.

“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slightly and sniffle. Still shaking, but not mortified. 

“What pictures?” you ask with an unsteady voice.

Silas looks at SIC.

“Did you get the number?” he asks.

“No, I didn't have time to move over the sim card before I heard the glass shattering.”

Silas clears his throat. His ears turn red.

“Go retrieve the number and then come back”, he says.

SIC nods and walks out. Silas turns to you. He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips carefully.

“Sorry”, he says again.

“It’s … okay”, you mumble.

It doesn't seem to register for him. He has a guilty look in his black eyes.

“Silas … what pictures?” you ask again, dreading the answer yet needing to know.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I shouldn’t have told you. I will take care of it, okay?”

“You got so upset about it … something must be wrong. Have someone taken pics of me while I’ve … had sex?”

Silas can’t tell you. He knows how distraught you’ll be. 

“No, not while you had … after you were done … I don’t know”, he says. “I could have misunderstood the pictures. I broke my phone right after seeing them.” He notices how you give him an unsure gaze as he mentions his phone. “I get worked up quickly.”

You sniffle. Silas wipes your tears again and hugs you even tighter, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He feels like a complete fool, how could he slip up like that? He would never shout at you, never make you feel threatened. For fuck sake, you’re supposed to seek shelter and comfort in him!

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Silas asks. 

“Mhm”, you mumble. “Just shaking.”

“I can tell.” His embrace tightens. “Let’s sit down, alright?”

He moves you to the bed and sits down with you beside him. 

“What have you done today?” he asks and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“I’ve been watching some shows”, you reply. 

“Which one?”

“Some cartoon … I don’t remember the name.”

“Do you think I’d like it?”

You give him a small smile and shake your head. “No, it’s too cheesy for you.”

Silas smiles. “What type of fucking stereotype is that? Show me and I’ll decide for myself.”

You reach for the tablet and show him a few minutes of the cartoon. He leans onto you, wrapping himself around you like a boa constrictor. 

The door opens and SIC returns with his phone in his hand. 

“Got it”, he says and walks over to the bed. “Y/N, take a look and-”

Silas slaps his hand away. 

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” he scolds him. “You’re not showing them those!”

SIC holds his phone out of Silas’s reach. 

“I am”, SIC replies.

Silas stands up. The animalistic, lredatory light is back in his eyes. You don’t doubt that he would punch him. 

“I am going to show these pictures to Y/N to confirm that they remember the sex happening”, SIC explains sharply. “Because if they don’t, we might have a worse crime on our hands.”

Silas doesn’t reply. He seems to think, and seems to consider whether he should punch the man or not. He nods in defeat. SIC gives you the phone and you take a mortified look at the two pictures. 

“Do you recognise where you are in these two pictures?” SIC asks. “Do you know when this was? Do you have memories of it?”

You look at the pictures, fearing that you’re not going to recognise the location or remember what happened … or who you were with.

“I know when and where this is”, you say. “It was five years ago. I remember it.”

“You're sure you remember it?” SIC asks.

“Yes … but I didn't know that he took pics …” 

“Okay, the fucker is dead”, Silas decides.

“What was his name?” SIC asks.

“‘Eric’ something”, you say. “I met him at a party. He was nice, or so i thought, and-”

Silas runs a hand through his black hair and sighs.

“I guess that he wasn't that nice”, you mumble.

“Pricks like that are never nice. They're just polite enough to lure people to get what they want. Who knows how many innocent people's photos he has on his hard drive?”

“Silas, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“If you manage to find him-”

“Not if; when.”

“When you manage to find him, give him an extra punch from me, will you?”

Silas smiles. “I'll give him tenfolds.”

Finding him is easier than the poor fellow had anticipated. Silas pities him. He's either too stupid to know who he is or has a death wish. He can't decide which one is worse.

“God, you're even uglier than i imagined”, Silas scoffs as he sees the man for the first time.

He's held up by two of his men, body pounded with punches beyond recognizable, but they've left his face untouched. That's for Silas to ruin.

“You're even uglier than your mess of a body”, he says, grabbing the man's face, tuning it carelessly. “We haven't even touched this yet. What did you gain from this? Not a lot, I see. I mean, you're here, in my basement, about to be killed. Can't say that I understand your intentions.”

“Did you like the pictures?” Eric asks, voice drowning in painful moans.

“‘Did i like the pictures?’” Silas repeats, appalled by the man's lack of remorse. “I don't need your pitiful pictures. I get the full act from whatever angle I want.”

It shouldn't make him cocky, but bragging about it always fills him with pride.

“Give me his phone”, he orders.

One of his men digs up the phone from Eric's pocket. He forces him to unlock it.

“Do you take these types of pictures often?” Silas asks, eyes narrowing as he scrolls past hundreds of women sleeping in beds. “What even are these?”

“I take a picture of the woman after our session, after she's fallen asleep”, Eric replies, “as a trophy.”

“As a-”, he cuts himself off. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Silas hits him with all his might. Eric's head shoots backwards, his neck acting like a jojo to get it back. Blood runs down from his nose.

“Delete all the pictures”, he tells SIC and gives him the phone. “From the phone, any cloud, any other hard-drive. These pictures will never be seen by anyone ever again.”

“Yes, boss”, SIC replies and takes the phone.

He disappears up the stairs. Silas turns to Eric.

“How did you get my number?” he asks. “And, when you got it, didn't you check to see who it belonged to? You're pretty stupid.”

“I just know that the number belonged to Y/N’s new boyfriend”, Eric replies.

“Husband.”

It shouldn't fill him with such pride at a moment like this, yet it does. 

“You're going to die now anyway, so it doesn't matter if I tell you my name”, Silas says. 

One of his men gives him a knife with a long shiny blade.

“Boss”, SIC says from the top of the stairs. “Y/N’s here.”

Silas hurries to give the knife back and gestures for him to hide it. 

“I’ll come upstairs”, he says. 

Before he has time to move, you've bursted past SIC. He tries to grab at you, but you're already half down the stairs.

“You absolute worthless piece of shit”, you spit.

Silas raises his eyebrows. 

Oh?

You run right over to Eric and slap him. Silas stands stunned. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and stop looking like a fool. He turns to the stairs where SIC stands, holding his hand over his face, laughing silently. He folds and has to hold onto the wall.

“How could you take such pictures?” you ask him. “What gave you the right?”

Silas grabs your shoulder to pull you away from him, but you shake him off.

“It's not like I took pics while we had sex”, Eric says, voice sounding even more painful.

Silas smirks. He can already tell that'll happen by the way your eyes widen. And he won't stop it. Won't even try to. You hit the man again and kick him between the legs. He tries to curl up, but is being held up by Silas’s men. 

“Okay, okay”, Silas says and grabs your shoulders, pulling you backwards. “Enough of that. SIC, take Y/N to the bedroom and make sure they stay there.”

SIC grabs you out of his arms. Silas grabs the knife once more. 

“What should we start with?” he asks, spinning the knife. “Your hands? Arms? Legs? Decide, coward.”

SIC forces you upstairs before he has the time to cut off any body parts.

“Let me go!” you mutter. 

“Just stay quiet until we get up to the bedroom”, SIC says. “Nice shot you got, by the way. I know it caught Silas by surprise. That’s hard to do, you know.”

“He deserves more.”

“And Silas will give him that, don’t you worry. That is not your job. You got two punches and one kick in, that’s enough.”

WHen you try to run back downstairs, he picks you up over his shoulder and continues upstairs. 

“Don’t give me more trouble”, he sighs. 

SIC walks into the bedroom and places you down on the floor before barricading the door with his body to make sure you’re not making a run for it. 

“The pictures are gone”, SIC says. “All of them — of you and of other people.”

“How many were there?”

“Hundreds. All taken when they had fallen asleep afterwards. He kept them like trophies.”

The door opens before he’s done with his sentence. Silas walks in, finally looking pleased. 

“Dona already?” SIC asks. 

“I got impatient”, he mutters and closes the door. “Little thing, are you okay?”

You nod. Silas hugs you, kissing the top of your head. He still feels awful about shouting at you. He squeezes you even tighter. 

“Thank you”, you say quietly. “You helped not only me but also a lot of other people. That’s a good thing.”

His heart clenches. He has apologized a million times and you have forgiven him … but he can’t seem to forgive himself. It all happened so quickly, yet it lingers in him. 

“Of course”, he says. “Scumbags need to be taken care of the right way. I kind of pitied the man. He must have been extremely stupid to let me know about him. Good that he was stupid though.”

Thinking about him makes him furious once more, but he reminds himself that it’s over. He has gotten his punishment … and Silas has saved people. Innocent people should never be punished for crimes they didn’t commit.

No one will ever see any those pictures again. No one will have to deal with that man ever again. 

[dipperpepper77]

Arranged Marriage AU LADS Men

Dipper's Delusions

TAGS: Fluff, AFAB reader, children, men who yearn... ARE MEN WHO EARN.

Intro: Your kingdom reeked of smoke and burnt produce. The heat was so palpable that it seemed to stick to everyone's skin. Leaving yours to always be damp with soft sweat. The war was taking far too long to end. Your parents, the king and queen, opting for more drastic measures. Securing your hand to a foreign kingdom could provide aid and stability to your tiny kingdom. You weren't one for dramatics. Only nodding hesitantly as the documents were filled and signed over. Whilst, you didn't want to marry out of convenience... you also didn't want to see your people starve or succumb to the war.

The resources and power of the foreign kingdom would be enough to end the war and establish your own as one of the greats. One to not be messed with. Your people could now live in peace for your sacrifice. It would help that he was easy on the eyes.

It wasn't hard to convince him for your hand. He knew you. From prior balls were you didn't even spare him a passing glance. Now it was relatively the same. You still didn't grant him a passing glance in your shared castle. But, oh... how he longed for you. You were completely unaware of his sentiments for you. However, you'd soon find out.

Sea god Rafayel: You picked at your food with the gold plated fork. Your lips parting to make a comment but stopping halfway. Rafayel cleared his throat, "something's on your mind. Say it". You gave a curt nod before speaking "I thought it would be highly inappropriate to eat one's own kind". He let out an amused laugh. "Seafood? It's the circle of life, my dear. Eat or be eaten. Humans truly know nothing.. do they?" You shook your head a bit. Feeling more comfortable to take a bite of the seafood. It was rich and buttery. Light with the slight taste of the ocean. His hand grazed yours, picking it up in his soft delicate palm. "May I?" You nod. He places kisses to your knuckles. You felt a burning feeling in your throat. A lump forming as he nuzzled against your hand. "You don't need to feel the same... just know one thing. You will always have a place in my heart."

You found yourself easing into Rafayel. Gradually picking up with his steps. Finding yourself nuzzled in his embrace as he showed you his art pieces. More often than not you just found that... you couldn't be apart from him. His head laid on your lap as you fixed up his hair. You held golden shears as you cut small bits of his violet strands. "Raf... I think I'll do this wrong." He only smiled up at you. "You could never do wrong in my eyes. I trust you." He bit back a smirk. "Besides, If I look awful I'll tell everyone it's because my dear wife is possessive."

The kingdom was pushing for an heir after the anniversary of your marriage. You sat on the bed. The lump crawling back into your throat. You loved Rafayel. But, you were afraid. What if he changed? What if all he was doing was wooing you for an heir?

Rafayel kissed behind your ear. "Listen to me. We go at your pace.. okay?" You nod gently. Breathing out gently. "I'm scared.." His gaze softened. Looking at you like you were a wet trembling animal he needed to protect. He pushed a strand of hair out of your face. "Have I ever told you... you always happen to be the most beautiful woman in the room?" He got up. Extending his hand for you to take. He lead you to the garden. You looked at it in awe. You. Paintings full of your face. Painted in a way that showed you how utterly devoted he was.

(Skip forward) Rafayel was a proud dad of twins. One girl and one boy. Both had your hair and his face. Oh, how he doted on them. Kissing their cheeks constantly. The kingdom was quick to choose the boy as the heir. Leading to constant protests from a moody Rafayel. "No. Whoever shows they are ready for the throne gets it." He will NOT back down when it comes to showing equality to your children.

Crown of Light Xavier: A man beyond his age. When you heard of him at first, you thought he was an old man. But, when you saw him... it was another story. He was beautiful. You averted your gaze away from him. The side of your face seemed to be cradled by the candlelight. He smiled softly. "Do you like the light?" Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided to indulge him with a soft nod. His palm extended, a bead of light appeared only to transform to a bunny.

As soon as the precious moment occurred, it seemed to fleet just as fast. News of the kingdom awaiting an heir seemed to strike Xavier down. He hardly spoke to you. Leaving you to go into the bed chambers and sleeping. Dozing off as if he didn't have a wife.

You sat on the plush cushion of the couch. Embroidering a pillow for your future children if your husband just got out of his bed chambers for once. Then, you saw him standing at the doorway. His face looking like he mourned you. You spoke softly, "what troubles you so much?" He shuddered before he took a seat next to you. Whatever he was about to say seemed to be rehearsed. "I.. can... I can not give you children." Your eyebrows furrowed. "Can't or will not?" He shook his head gently. "Will not."

The castle has been tense ever since. You hardly spoke to him. It was the casual difference of him saying will not rather than could not. You sat on the silk bed in your bed chambers. Looking at nothing in particular. Rather, you were deep in thought about how you even got into this situation. Xavier walked into the room, blowing the soft flames of the candles that illuminated your room. You were about to protest... but, his hand rose. "Just... let me speak okay?" You nodded quietly. "It's not that I do not want children with you. It's more that I... I'm scared. Terrified actually. What if I'm not a good father? What if I don't last long enough to see them into adulthood.. I... I can't". Your hand went to the small of his back. Truly the most reassuring thing you could've done. He smiled softly. Using his evol to make a little light show for you as an apology. Light illuminated the room, forming intricate shapes.

You two had triplets on the first go. Poor Xavier's heart nearly dropped. But, he was making the most of it. Two little girls with golden strands and your eyes. The boy inheriting your hair and his blue eyes. King Xavier was reduced to a restless father. His girls pulling at his locks while the boy nestled in his chest... he wouldn't have it any other way.

Ice King Zayne: "I'd like to formally introduce my-". He walked away before you could even finish your sentence. Your eyes widened. What? He was the one who rushed your union. So why was he pushing you away? Did he think you lower than him?

You avoided him like a plague and so did he. The ice of his evol was not the only thing making this castle so... frigid. You ended up developing a routine: wake up, finish up royal tasks, meet with your ladies in waiting, eat in the empty dining table, and go to bed. 150 steps to your bed chambers. So you started counting again and again. 150 exact. What a mundane and boring life.

Today was no different. 150 steps to leave your room and to the dining table. But, this time you saw Zayne eating. You took your seat and ate in silence. The day was pretty pleasant afterwards. 150 steps to the chambers... 1...2...3. You only counted to 50 until you felt a hand grab your wrist and tug you somewhere else. Your mind was on autopilot. 150... 151? 180 steps to Zayne's chambers. Wait.. why are you in his chambers? He helped you out of your robe. His gaze appreciative of the silk white nightgown you wore. You looked up at him baffled. But, he just tugged you into bed with him. You were spooned into his embrace. Back hitting his muscular chest.

You were weak. How else do you explain just sleeping comfortably? He nuzzled his face into your neck. "I'm... not one for affection. I really tried... I just find being away from you is unbearable." What you didn't know is that he was a mess around you. The times he rushed away from you... he was hiding in the corner of the room blushing like a fool. He was not good at being vulnerable at all. But, he will try for you.

Twin girls appeared in his arms. Both having your face, your hair, your mannerisms. His genes didn't seem to even fight it. He thanked all the wishing he did. These little girls thawed the rest of his frigid heart that you couldn't reach. He would always carry snacks hidden under his heavy crown. Chocolate for the eldest twin, strawberry jam packets for the other, and whatever you craved. All with a faint blush whenever he was around you.

Dragon Sylus: You signed up for a marriage… not this. You were stuck in the tower being guarded by a damn dragon? You knew his name was Sylus. Knew he was also the king of the kingdom. Knew he preferred to be alone and recluse in the tower. Knew he hated humans. But, also knew he had to endure to keep the kingdom out of ruins.

He clung to you. His strong voice squeaking out. What happened to this strong dragon? “M-may.. I hold on to your ribbon?” You nod. His long fingers twirled around the ribbon that laid behind your dress. The one that held your waist. His black nails scratching lightly on it. “Pretty.”

You woke up more often than not in his arms. He always asked before he touched you. Not wanting to scare you off. His finger tips were ash black. His nails pointed and sharp. The noir color fading past his knuckle to reveal pale skin. Your fingers reached his horns earning you a soft groan. “They’re sensitive, my belle.” You took your hands off. He looked at you with almost worry. His nail dragging on your soft cheek. “Do I.. scare you?” You shot up. Wanting to protest. He shook his head. Getting up and leaving the room.

You found him mopping by a small nest that could only fit you and him if you squeezed. Maybe he made it so he could envelop you whole? That’s how he felt he could protect you. Your hand petted his hair. Asking.. begging to talk. He looked up at you. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s hard enough to ask you to have heirs with me. They’d be half dragon and half human.. I can’t ask you to create monsters.” You shook your head. Explaining you didn’t find him repulsive. But, his hand found yours again. “D-don’t.. not for my sake. I’d do anything for you. My horns? I’ll shave them down. Look more human. I’ll cut the claws.. the fangs too. Anything. Please.. I don’t wish to frighten you.” When you finally got him to see reason, he slept soundly on your chest.

He was the best girl dad. His little girl had your hair and his crimson eyes. She had the most fierce personality anyone had ever seen. More importantly… she had her dad wrapped around her finger. He’d always make her a nest. Always laugh whenever she started showing her dragon side. You two would take her to the gardens so she could enjoy the sun.

God of War Caleb: Strategically, this was a match made in heaven. His kingdom was one that never lost a battle. The soldiers were all top quality and ruthless when it came to protecting the crown. But, you grew up with Caleb. The powerful king was the same person who’d fuss over your dress, fix your ribbons, put your shoes on for you. His reward? You hardly acknowledged him as a romantic prospect. Hardly batting an eye to him at the balls.

How long would it take for him to snap? Not long actually.. you’re his wife now. His queen. You were blissfully unaware to his romantic sentiments. Usually giving him the same polite nod as always. Caleb… was a good and dear friend. Until tonight.

His hand snaked to the small of your back. Keeping you pressed against him. His cheek rubbed against yours. His voice… soft. Almost melodic. “Am I not enough? I’m yours… so humbly yours. My heart..” He placed your hand on his warm chest. Your fingertips feeling his steady and strong heartbeat. “This… it beats for you.” You could only swallow hard. Your eyes flickering with recognition. You truly loved him.

He followed you around like a lost puppy. Making countless excuses as for why he needed to be in your line of sight. No one understood how this man crumbled to a pathetic fool over you. But, they weren’t crazy enough to question him. A single utter of your name had his intention. If it was a negative comment? The person would rather be dead and gone than face Caleb’s wrath. Come hell or high water, that man would go to war for your dignity.

Caleb had his heir. A boy who looked exactly like him. A carbon copy down to his pout. He adored the boy.. absolutely. But, mentally cursed himself because he wished he looked a bit more like you. He also cursed himself because his son is EXACTLY like him. Caleb would follow you around for affection or praise, only to get knocked by his son. His son was equally possessive and jealous over your time. A chaotic but loving home is what I can best describe it as.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

pickles. l Joel Miller

Summary: preparing for the arrival of the most important guest in your life

Warnings: pure fluff, a little worry, Reader pregnant, doctor's checkups, pregnancy cravings, lots of love

A/N: .

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The colorful bedding with small flowers was nicely arranged. Ann smoothed the material and adjusted the pillow. She was pleased with the result, everything looked perfect - from the curtains on the windows to the bedding in the cradle that Joel had made.

"She should be back to Maria soon, are you done?"

She smiled at the man who was entering the nursery, with a slight hesitation. "Yes, everything is ready," she replied. "You have an amazing talent, you know?"

She pointed to the delicate decorations on the edge of the cradle, the edges were decorated with flower shapes. Joel was clearly embarrassed, he looked down.

"It could look better," he mumbled.

Ann patted him on the shoulder. "It's perfect. You'll see, she'll be delighted. Have you been hiding it from her all this time?" he nodded. "Ellie's right. You're totally crazy about her."

"Yes, I am." Joel's gaze swept over the freshly finished room, now completely ready for your daughter's arrival. "She saved me."

"You both saved yourselves." The woman's voice cracked slightly, but she cleared her throat and smiled again. "Less than two months? Well, I'm sure you're excited."

"I think we're more scared."

"Young parents always say that, but you two will find each other quickly."

"Young parent?" Joel raised an eyebrow at Ann in amusement. "No one has called me that in a long time."

You were due in early September. Of course, the baby would decide when it was ready to come into the world, and Joel was afraid that if your daughter looked too much like you or her older sister, Sarah, she would do so unexpectedly. So he started going on shorter patrols, eventually limiting them to running errands in Jackson and being nearby if necessary.

"Nothing's happening." You repeated every time he looked at you, every time you moaned or touched your belly. “Little lady decided to rearrange my internal organs.”

“Sorry,” Joel would say. He was starting to worry a little.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“This.” He pointed to your rounded belly like it was his fault.

Ellie giggled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re completely hopeless.”

You were craving pickles and Ann’s apple pie. It didn’t matter in which order, you could eat both at the same time. When Joel came home from Tipsy Bison one night and found you barefoot in the kitchen, eating pickles from a jar, he thought he had fallen in love with you a second time. Was that possible?

He was grateful to God or whoever for the way his life was now, but in the back of his mind he still wondered what your life would have been like in a different, better time. He wanted you to be safe, so you could go shopping for baby clothes instead of receiving clothes that had been used by several other children. 

Joel knew he would probably wince when he saw the receipts, but this would be your first child. And Sarah would love it. She would be a wonderful big sister, and you would be just as wonderful to her as you were to Ellie.

“Are you okay?”

He felt your gentle touch on his back and smiled to himself. “Yeah, baby. I think so. You should still be asleep.”

It was early, although the sun's rays fell into your bedroom and stained the floor with bright spots.

“Little Miller is already awake.” You mumbled, and Joel instinctively turned to you.

You were asleep in his shirt, but it was already rising, revealing your rounded belly. A few thin red lines appeared at the bottom, stretch marks that you would probably worry about in another world. No change in your body escaped Joel's attention, he loved every single one of them.

“Can I?” he asked, reaching out to touch the warm and taut skin.

“She's yours too, of course you can.”

His. This little one was his, just like you. The kick was clearly felt, and then the movement, as if the child was looking for a comfortable place.

“She kicks like her sister.”

You smiled, because it was the most beautiful compliment you could hear. Joel rarely spoke of Sarah, and you never pressured him to change that. But your daughter brought back the most beautiful memories for him.

“Everything seems fine. The baby is the right size.” Dr. Morris stared at the screen, the probe moving across your belly. “She’s not very active today, is she?”

“She definitely prefers mornings.” You replied, and Joel, sitting next to you, squeezed your hand.

“Maybe this will stay with her and let you sleep through the night.” The man smiled. “Any discomfort?” You shook your head. “Any contractions?”

“Sometimes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel twitch uncomfortably.

“That’s normal. As long as they’re not regular, everything’s fine.” He put the device down and handed you a towel to wipe your belly. “You should rest. Get some sleep, take care of yourself.”

“I’m doing that.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Joel interrupted. “And what about her blood test results?”

„Everything's fine. There's no need to worry. You're the picture of health." He smiled. "I'll see you in two week, okay?"

He left the office, and with Joel's help, you sat up and straightened your dress. It took you a moment to notice that he was offended.

"What's that face?" you asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer.

"You didn't say you were having contractions." Joel mumbled, and you sighed quietly.

"Because they're not even contractions, they're rare and I don't feel them very strongly." You replied, but he didn't seem satisfied with the answer. "Joel, that's normal. Even Dr. Morris said so."

He nodded, but you could see that he was still struggling with it. He was so worried about everything...

"Kiss me." He looked at you confused. "Kiss me, Joel. I need it, and you can't say no to a pregnant woman, can you?"

He leaned down and lightly touched your lips.

“Not enough,” you replied, pouting.

Joel rolled his eyes, but you saw the corners of his mouth twitch. He stood between your legs, looking at you.

“Sometimes you can be really insufferable, you know that?”

“You love it, Miller.”

“I love you.”

He leaned down again and kissed you properly this time, your hands fisting his shirt as you pulled him closer. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“Tell me about everything, baby. I worry about you both so much.”

“I will. I promise.”

It was already evening and the sun was slowly setting when he told you he had to go to the stables. The air was warm and pleasant as Joel walked briskly in the direction he had indicated, but when the stables appeared at the end of the road, he suddenly turned and entered a side street. He passed more houses with children running around in the gardens, but he kept going. A few more steps and he stood in front of the house he was looking for.

When Dr. Morris saw Joel on his doorstep, he was clearly surprised.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

"No, no." Joel quickly shook his head, clearly irritated. "I just wanted to... Can we talk?"

The man pointed to two armchairs on the porch and after a moment they both sat down in them. Morris rested his elbows on his knees and looked at his guest expectantly. Joel cleared his throat after a moment.

"Sorry to bother you at this hour." he began, but Morris just raised his hand.

"Don't worry. I'm here to help, it's my job."

Joel nodded. "I had to come, ask you about it. I know your clinic is well-equipped, you have the equipment and people who know what to do..."

"You're worried about her, right?" Morris looked at Joel with concern. He sighed quietly. "You know, we're not the best hospital in the region, but we're the only one." He smiled slightly. "Yes, we have the equipment and people. Her pregnancy is going well, and she's a strong woman. Everything will be fine."

"But you can't be completely sure." Joel paused. "If something happens..."

"We can do a c-section if necessary. We also have the equipment for the baby. I can assure you that we will do everything in our power to keep her and the baby safe."

Joel looked down, he should feel better, but it was hard. Dark thoughts had been circling in his head for some time, he couldn't get them out of his head. Morris must have sensed it, because he finally spoke.

“You’ve both been through a lot, but she’s strong. She’s stronger than you think. Her body does amazing things, but if something happens, we’ll help her, I promise.”

He nodded. “What can I do?”

The doctor smiled. “You’re already doing a lot, Joel. You’re taking care of her, that’s enough. And if something happens, we’ll help you. We all want this baby to be born safe and sound.”

“Thank you.”

“Keep your eyes closed. Slowly.”

First, Joel told you he had a surprise for you, then he told you to close your eyes and turned you around a few times to get you off track. He did. So, holding your hand tightly, he led you toward what he had prepared for you. The door creaked open and you smelled the pleasant, delicate scent of lavender. You guessed where you might be, but you didn’t say anything. You felt the carpet beneath your feet and Joel slowly pulled you to a stop.

His voice echoed softly in your ear. “Open your eyes, darling.”

You weren’t ready for what you saw. It was already dark outside, but the room was lit by a lamp in the corner. And then you saw it. A beautiful wooden cradle stood against the wall. Delicate flower and leaf decorations decorated the edge, and the inside was lined with bedding with small flowers. You could see Ann’s talented hand in it, but everything else...

Joel didn’t say anything. He watched carefully as you touched the cradle, your fingers tracing patterns, and then you touched the sheets. He couldn’t see your face, so he couldn’t guess.

“Did you do this yourself? All of it?” you asked, your voice sounding unnatural.

“Y-yes. Do you like it?”

When you turned to him, your eyes were full of tears. "It's wonderful..." you moaned, holding back a sob "You prepared all this for her, and I..."

"You're doing the most important thing." He walked over to you, taking your face in his hands to look into your eyes "You're giving birth to our beautiful daughter. There's nothing more important."

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but the corners of your lips turned up. When you snuggled up to Joel, you knew you were in the right place.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait @mmmunson @grace-928 @umadirectioner @libraryofneith @princess76179

[noheadcanons-juststories]

Vampire!141 x fledgling!reader, who was found abandoned and starved. meeting 141

“Who called you?” you demand to know.

“Amos,” the man with the chops answers.

Boss called them?

“Are you from the Night Council?” you dread.

“Not at all. Amos is an old friend of ours, back from service,” he explains. His voice was soft yet weathered, like an easy thunderstorm on the countryside. “He informed us that one of his employees was possibly attacked. Asked us to come help.”

So these men were not from the Night Council as you feared. But you were still weary to open the door.

“I didn't ask for help,” you retort with a raggedy cough. “Whoever you are, just… just tell him that I won't be coming in anymore.”

“Listen, lass,” a new man spoke up, very much Scottish with a very nice mohawk, “Amos called us in fer a favor. But once he explained the situation, we let him keep it. He's worried, and ye need someone to take care o’ ye. So we're here to help you.”

“Please…” you beg. “I don't wanna be treated like some charity case. So unless you're gonna kill me, just leave me alone.” You were tired, in pain. You could barely stand anymore.

The tall man in the skull-plated mask approaches your window, looking you dead in the eyes. “You really wanna die, fledgling?” a rougher voice asks. “‘Cause I can arrange that.”

“Simon,” Chops quietly reprimands.

“No, Cap, we need to get this outta the way,” ‘Simon’ persists. “‘Cause m'not gonna come all the way here for a fledgie too weak to live.”

“Bit harsh, dontcha’ think, Lt.?” Scot frowns.

Simon ignores him. “The reason we're here is because our friend is worried about his employee,” he tells you. “He fuckin’ cares about you. Now, we can be civil, and you let us in. Or we can cut to the end, and I put you out of your misery, quick and painless. So what's it gonna be?”

As he speaks, you slowly slide down to the floor. Pulling your blankets tighter around you. Truthfully, neither option sounds appealing. You don't know these men. Childhood lessons on stranger danger and accepting help from strange men never prepared you for the undead. But on the other hand, did you really want to go out a pathetic, dehydrated corpse? There's only two outcomes with two different paths leading to either. Die or find a clan. The Night Council does not guarantee anything except your immediate end. Meanwhile, Amos got a clan on speed dial for you.

John sits down by your window. “Listen, love…” he speaks softly. “We're here because Amos refused to call the Night Council on ya. And I don't blame him. They're diligent, but they're still pretty ruthless. Especially towards those abandoned. He called us because he knew we were the better choice.”

 You lean against the wall. “You could've refused…” you whisper.

“Could’ve,” John shrugs. “But didn't want to.”

“Why not?”

There were a few reasons…

“‘Cause I’d hate for a fledgling to die without bein’ given a chance,” he responds.

…One of them being that he was once in the same boat as you when he was first turned, albeit through uglier circumstances…

“Regardless of how you got here, you need someone to show you the ropes.”

…He was looking to sire another vampire after Kyle, despite his own reservations about immortality. Amos just happened to call while he was brewing in his thoughts, surprised that the old faun still had his number…

“And it'd be a shame to lose a sweet soul like you.”

…And Amos had only good things to say about you, practically gushing as if you were his own kid. Kind yet firm with a bit of confidence, you were.

You let out a sigh, frowning as you reconsider your options. Your expression worsens when you remember that you only have two. “What's your name?” you ask the vampire.

“John Price.”

“What do you do, Mr. Price?”

“I hunt vampires.”

You giggle after letting the thought simmer for a bit. “You hunt vamps?”

“Only the bad ones,” he smiles.

“Do I… I don't fit that criteria, do I?” you question.

John shakes his head. “No. Not at all.”

“...Mr. Price?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I'm scared,” you admit.

“I know,” is all he says. “That's why we're here.”

Kyle joins John's side beneath your window. Then Johnny, who doesn't want to be left out, and lastly, Simon, who doesn't want to be left behind at all. The men sit underneath the glow of the Half Moon. Small chirps in the grass and distant hooting in the trees bring a peaceful ambiance to the evening. Coupled with the bipolar winds of Spring gently weaving through the grassy fields.

“Whaddya wanna do, lass?” Johnny asks you.

“I don't know,” you say, trying not to cry for the umpteenth time.

“Well then,” Simon speaks up again, “whaddya not wanna do?”

“...Not hurt anyone… and not die.

John nods once. “Alright… that's a good place to start… Think you can unlock the door for us?”

It's silent for a bit, but you don't go to the door. Instead, you unlock the window and crack it open just a tad. The four men look back to see you stick your hand out, pale and spindly, which Kyle takes into both of his.

“We're right here for you, fledgie,” he comforts you, gently squeezing. “And we're not leaving you behind.”

And for that moment, you believe him.

prev | next Masterlist

Role Call!: @boy-pussyyy

[amberlynnmurdock]

Dressing Room

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader Insert

Summary: Dex takes guarding your dressing room at Lululemon a little too seriously.

Genre: FLUFF and a little angst

Note: I'm sorry if this isn't my strongest! I felt like writing a cute little something for Dexy since he's BACK!!!! <3 <3 my DDBA thoughts will have to be another post. ENJOY!

Dex guards the door with his arms crossed in front of him, suspiciously eyeing every person who walks by. It’s reminiscent of the missions he’s been placed on in the past—guarding the door for witness protection, guarding the door of a criminal. It's the same concept, really. Make sure no one gets to whoever is behind the door he guards. Deathly stare at anyone who even glances in his direction. 

A bead of sweat trickles down his back from the heat in the room. Every muscle in his body tenses at every sound he hears. Boots scuffing the wood-paneled floor, paper ripping—all send his heart rate skyrocketing and his eyes scanning the room obsessively for any kind of threat. It was important to him that he be aware of anything and everything. It was important to him that people know he sees them. 

An older woman approaches him. Before she can say anything, Dex holds out his hand to stop her. 

“This dressing room is occupied,” he says in his FBI agent authoritative voice. His eyes darken at her audacity. The woman cowers at his stern, unfriendly look and quickly walks away with shirts draped over her arm—as she should, Dex thinks. 

“Sir,” a male voice comes from his side. “I’m the manager. You don’t work here. I’m going to have to ask you to not scare our customers in the dressing room if you’re not trying anything on. There’s no reason for you to be standing here.” 

No reason? Dex looks at the man but hides his incredulous look. Dex has every reason to be standing in front of the dressing room you’re in—he has to make sure you’re safe. 

“I’m waiting for my girlfriend,” Dex states without a flinch, tightening his arms in front of his chest. 

“You can wait for her on the couches in the middle of the room,” the manager explained calmly. “You don’t need to guard the door.”

Frustration bloomed in Dex’s chest. What was so hard to understand? “Yes, I do. I need to make sure she’s safe.” 

“Sir, this is a Lululemon.” 

“Dex?” You open the door ajar to peek at Dex, standing in his FBI-esque stature, arms crossed and deathly glaring at anyone and everyone. Now, the manager fell victim to such a harsh glare. When Dex heard your voice, it was the only moment his expression softened. He looked at you attentively, as if the manager wasn’t there. “Could you tell me if you like this jacket?” 

Dex looked from you to the manager beside him, watching him suspiciously. When no one said a word, you sighed in exasperation and looked at the manager.

“Can my boyfriend please help me in the dressing room? He’ll be out once I get his opinion.”

“Sure,” the manager said. “But please also tell him to stop scaring our guests away.”

“I will,” you flashed a smile at him as he walked away. You uncrossed Dex’s arms and grabbed his hand, leading him into the dressing room. You shut the door, and Dex beat you to locking it. 

“Dex,” you said softly. “Why are you scaring people away?” You asked with an amused smile on your face. You were used to him being protective—you found it very endearing that he acted somewhat like your personal bodyguard, even if you were at a casual establishment like Lululemon. Dex’s face softened as he sighed.

“I just want to make sure no one will walk in on you,” Dex said. “I’m sorry if I was aggressive.”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving his upper bicep a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate how protective you are over me.”

Dex shrugged. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe,” you affirmed. “Whenever I’m with you.” 

Dex smiled and held your gaze for a moment. You shrugged and tugged at the seams of the jacket you tried on.

“Well, what do ya think?” You asked him, breaking eye contact to look at yourself in the mirror. Dex was still looking at you, but as if snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at your torso and analyzed the jacket. 

“It looks perfect on you,” Dex said, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Thank you, Dex. Do you like the black? Maybe I should try on the blue. Could you get me the light blue one out there? It’s called the Define jacket.”

Although he was captivated by how you looked, he still registered your command. “I’ll find it.”

He left you in the dressing room as he made his way back out to the main floor. The manager who scolded him before stared him down, but Dex wasn’t intimidated—he’s had much worse foes. He ignored his glare as he made his way to the table that read: Define Jacket. He found a light blue one in your size. 

Dex walked back to the dressing room area and stopped in his tracks when he saw your dressing room empty, door wide open. His alertness set in as his heart rate skyrocketed again, and this time, he was reminded of every person in his life who’d abandoned him without warning. His parents, his therapist… and now, you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone again. A deep heaviness settled in his chest, a deep sense of longing he hadn’t felt in a while overcame him at the missing sight of you. Where did you go? Dex could barely hold onto the jacket he grabbed for you. 

Were you taken? He knew this would happen—he shouldn’t have left you alone. You, your kindness, he knew could be taken advantage of so easily. He didn’t care that this was just an establishment—nowhere is guaranteed safe. That’s what they taught him in training. Suddenly, he felt an intense resentment towards the manager who berated him for standing in front of your door. This is why he “scaring” guests—this is why he was protecting you. 

No, Dex thought. It’s nobody’s fault but his. It’s his fault you slipped from his grasp—it was always his fault. The minute he found the person who took you from—Dex was already planning the ways he’d make them pay. He’s counting each hanger that hangs inside the empty dressing room—it’s how many times he’ll throw it at whoever took you from him. There wasn’t any sadness at your disappearance anymore—he felt rage. Fixated on the hangers and how easily they would slip from his fingers. 

“Dex,” he heard you call his name, and just like that—as quick as a switch—all his anxieties disappeared. Something fluttered in his chest. There you were, standing in front of a large mirror, trying on a light blue tennis dress. Your hair was disheveled from throwing the dress on, but you looked beautiful in Dex’s eyes. Angelic, even—just looking at you brought a feeling in Dex he’s not used to. At first, it was scary, but then it was just…silent. Peaceful. Only you were capable of making him even taste that feeling. “Come here,” you said. 

Dex does as he’s told but doesn’t just stop to look at you and give his opinion—you could wear anything and he would think it’s the loveliest thing. Dex wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight against him—his fears from before coming to the front of his mind. He thought he lost you. He can’t experience that feeling again.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He feels you tentatively wrap your arms around him, embracing his hold. 

“I’m sorry,” Dex said, “I thought you were gone.”

“Gone?” You giggled against him. “Where would I have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Dex mumbled in your hair.

“I’m right here.” You pulled back from his embrace to brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. 

Dex suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes—ashamed of his paranoia and for thinking the worst. “I got your jacket in blue,” Dex muttered, holding up the soft article of clothing on his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you like this dress on me? Your opinion matters to me, you know.”

His opinion matters to you. He matters. Dex looks at you again, and then he takes a step back, fully realizing the image in front of him. You looking at him like he’s the most important thing in the world, and he looking at you like you’re the most beautiful—because you are, to him. 

“It’s perfect,” Dex says quietly. It’s all he can say. The adrenaline of his paranoia from before exhausted him. You knew him well enough to know he was fighting an internal battle. And he was trying his best to hide it from you.

“Take a seat, Dex. I’m all finished up here. Let me change back into my clothes, pay and then we’ll go home,” you said softly. You pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and guided him to sit on the couches in the middle of the dressing room. 

Dex sat down at your command. In front of him was the mirror—he met his own eyes and quickly looked away. When you closed the door to your dressing room, Dex quietly got up to instead sit in front of your door, on the couch that faced it. He waited for you patiently there—just in case. 

[satyricplotter]

you have the red hood on speed dial. for information, you know? you're not part of any shady deals, but it pays to have an ear out in crime alley. not that you do your job. it's the third time this month jason has swung by your apartment to find you've called him over not to report on suspicious gang activity or some funny guy encroaching on his territory, but to... repair something. last week was your pipes. today's your AC.

"tell me something," he says, scrubbing at the filters over your sink. his sleeves are rolled up, forearms covered in suds. you pulled over a chair. to watch, mind you, not help. not that you could help much in this tiny ass kitchen. he's bent over the single sink, forehead perilously close to the perpetually slightly open cabinet. he wonders when you're gonna call him over to tighten your screws.

"something," you say, quite seriously.

jason exercises patience and throws some suds at you. you shriek like he'd held you at gunpoint anyway. "you got any yellow pages around? they still sell them. heard they've even moved to the internet. you know the internet? i know you have access to it because you asked me to rewire your modem three weeks ago."

"thank you for that, by the way." you smile bright and sweet at him. "it goes so much faster now. every single one of my freeloaders has come up to me to show me a different minecraft build since you did that. i can only hope that will translate to me getting a high rise penthouse when they all become architects."

he snorts. your freeloaders are the three children in the apartments on your floor that you've shared your wifi password with. jason had significantly improved on the system you'd been working with the minute he found out--it keeps the kids off the streets, you know? part of his responsibilities. nothing more.

"stop fucking deflecting," he says. this stain won't go out. is there mold here? he glances at the ceiling. hm. he should check next time.

you cross your leg the other way around. you're wearing shorts. it's a hot day out in gotham. summer. no AC. your skin sticks together at the thighs. he can hear it. he can almost feel it. a drop of sweat runs down his back, the phantom caress of a finger.

it's a hot day out in gotham.

he turns back to the filters.

"i just don't know what you're getting at, mr. hood," you sigh.

jason rolls his eyes. so needlessly evasive. and for what? just to keep him there.

"what i'm getting at," he says, "is why you don't call a plumber. or an electrician. or... whoever does this fucking job. some guy out there must be making their living scrubbing these things. call him, why won't you?"

"then what will you do?" you wonder curiously.

jason snaps his head towards you. looks at his helmet on your dinner table. then at you. helmet. you. his face must tell you everything he can't quite put politely, because you laugh uproariously. he shakes his head like an old man lamenting the state of the youth, even though you're probably older than him. he wonders if you know that.

"i could be out there doing serious stuff," he grumbles, just to say.

"like severing heads?" you pipe up, wagging your eyebrows.

jason huffs. "that was one time."

snickering, you stand up. "hey, don't sweat it, big man," you say, clapping his shoulder. your hand lingers there, and when you retract it, so does the heat of it. jason can almost feel its imprint. you smile up at him, hip leaning against the counter right next to him. jason thinks he might stay here forever. the grease on these filters won't give.

"i thought it was a grand entrance," you continue. "scared us all big time. made everyone put their guard up. i didn't see hide nor hair of skittish george for a week after!"

jason tongues at the inside of his mouth, trying not to seem surly and failing miserably. "i wasn't trying to scare you."

"it's 'cuz we didn't know," you explain, a smile bordering on shy dancing in your mouth. jason feels inexplicably wound up, like his body's picked up on something his mind hasn't. "hadn't met you yet."

when you move behind him, slowly, wrap your arms around his waist, jason cannot say he didn't see it coming. but it does catch him off guard. everything you do seems like it catches him off guard. the most vapid, inconsequential shit in the world suddenly has weight. a clogged pipe. a broken light switch. an empty gas canister. his presence in your life.

you press your forehead between his shoulder blades. the wet heat of your sigh sinks into his bones. he glances down at your hands hooked together by the ring and pinky fingers. do you always do this? he wants to know. he's filled with hunger.

"you're good people, hood," you mutter, cheek to his back.

jason swallows down at the water. "you don't know that."

"i know," you say. sound sure of it. the smile that unfurls against him has him squeezing the soap out of the sponge. "you fix all of my shit."

he sets everything aside. fuck these filters. you barely even move when he tries to turn around, caging him immediately against the sink with a bright grin. he should've seen this coming. you don't even care that his hands are cold and wet when he sets them above your hips, just shiver a little against him. he settles against the sink and you follow, rest your chin on his chest. jason just observes you for a moment, your bright, open face. he smooths a hand over your temple, leaves it resting on your nape. you receive the touch with eagerness that sends sparks down his spine, but he has to say the words before anything else goes down. it's just proper form. mom did say that.

in an apartment just like this, in fact.

"i don't do that because i'm good, though," he says.

you raise your eyebrows. "oh?" playful smile. he wants to eat it. he will. "why then?"

jason snorts. pinches at your eyebrow just to throw you off your game. you squeak and flail, chiding him for ruining the moment, and he takes the opportunity to grab your face in his hands and bring it close to his. you shut up mid-word, and the face you make is a little funny. he wants to keep seeing it. he will.

he speaks the next words against your mouth. "i do it because i like you."

[crunchystarz]

Leona pinning headcanons with a reader who follows him round pretty please!1!1>-<

Leona with a reader who follows him around

Pairing Leona Kingscholar x GN!reader

Word count: 758

Cw- Leona is a sad sad man/endearing, fluff, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread.

A/n: I got a lil carried away while writing so this is more of a ramble than headcanons 🦭 also for some reason my asks got wiped so for everyone who had an req earlier I'm sorry 😞!! They are still open !

Leona didn't know how to feel about you at first, truly you were a mystery to him. He couldn't figure out what your motives were. Seriously no one else came up to him.  They'd usually be too scared to even come up to him. And when they do they always want something from him.

It's always been that way so Leona honestly didn't care anymore he'd either just walk away or give them a glare that sent them running with their tails tucked between their legs.

But you? Sevens he didn't even know what to do with you. He couldn't figure out a single thing you could have possibly wanted from him. You're always following him around.

 At first he was annoyed. Everywhere he went your bubbly presence followed. You always asked him questions and he couldn't stand it. Seriously, he didn't know what to do with you.

He'd tell Ruggie to stay on the lookout for you but it never worked. He honestly believed he let it happen on purpose. At one point he tried to pay you to leave him alone.

You shocked him by shaking your head and telling him you just like being around him. No, you had to want something from him? He just grumbled and turned over and proceeded to try and go back to sleep.

He tried to ignore the way his heart beat increased slightly. He wasn't used to being…wanted.

Leona used to roll his eyes whenever you'd talk about him to others like you were friends. Now he just looks away as his tail flickered slightly in embarrassment. Ruggie would tease him about how you practically followed him around like some lost puppy, and tease him on how he stopped trying to push you away. 

“Don't tell me you've gone soft!”

He hasn't…he just got used to your presence. It's more odd if you stopped coming around. Totally not because he's become attached to you. Not because he's scared if he even pretends to push you away you'll actually leave.

Leona can't help but linger around you as well, the few times you're not following him around he's following you around. He doesn't make it obvious…unless there's someone else getting too much of your attention.

He'll admit it he does get jealous. He knows what being jealous feels like, but he's always been jealous of what people have and yeah sure he's been jealous of lack of attention as a child but this. This is different.

Leona would loom over you intimidating whoever was taking your attention from him, or head straight up to you just to drag you away from them. 

He is in pure denial that he likes you…he's just fascinated by you and your nature. He likes whenever you chirpily talk to him while trying hard to keep up with his stride.

He won't admit to anyone that he feels disappointed whenever he wakes up from a nap and you haven't somehow found him. 

Leona isn't in love be just…wants to kiss that still smile off your face whenever you're ranting. He's not in love, he just wants all your attention. He's not in love, he just wants to drag you down with him while he sleeps. He is not in love, he just wants to call you his. Leona.is.not.in love.

(At least that's what he tells himself)

Leona eventually accepts the reality of his feelings when you two were sitting down at lunch and you told him about how someone had asked you out. He nearly choked on his food. He decided right then and  there that he'd tell you how he feels.

 However he didn't know why but telling you flat out was…hard? He'd just grumbled and continued eating. Ruggie chuckled to himself watching the way Leona's tail flickered in  aggravation.

From then he tries so hard to drop hints that he doesn't just tolerate you. You're not naive but sevens it was like you couldn't pick up a single hint he gave you.

Leona  was so pathetic he just wanted you. Why couldn't you see that? Weren't the gifts not a sign? The fact that he once offered you to nap with him. Yeah he doesn't know what he's doing and even thinks about going to Ruggie but immediately back tracks.

The next time he sees you he just straight up grabs you by the shoulders.

“Herbivore, I like you.”

“I mean I sure hope you do, we're friends right?”

...

You're killing him. He hangs his head in defeat…maybe he should go to Ruggie.

Please help him.

MASTERLIST

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader x Eddie Munson

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel and you go on patrol and woah—Eddie's coming with?

author's note | uh...hahaha. okay. i had a brief moment the other night, a lapse in judgement if you will and was like...joel would so be annoyed of eddie if they were stuck on patrol together and then we got horny and that's how this came about. this is my early valentines gift to WHOEVER is reading and enjoying this, it was a blast to write. a special thanks to @gracieheartspedro @amanitacowboy &. @chaotic-mystery for supporting my insane and always stupid ideas.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, is this crossfic or crackfic the jury is still out, jackson!joel, eddie munson survives but the cost = apocalypse, threesomes (m/m/f), eddie is an absolute munch, voyeurism, unprotected piv, spitting, ass slaps, slight dom/sub undertones across the board, this is ALL about reader and getting both her men, double creampies, cum feeding, choking, freak nasty at an unhinged level i'm sorry

word count — 5.5k

You were the one who found him.

Eddie.

Alone, hungry, terrified.

Hiding inside an abandoned boathouse for days in a patrol spot that had been neglected for most of the winter. It was only chance that you came alone, usually stuck with Joel who would have scared him off in a matter of seconds.

He’s like a puppy, shrinking impossibly smaller despite his height and lanky figure, hair filthy with a mix of dirt and leaves, weeks spent living savagely in search of his next meal and resting place.

Luckily, Tommy Miller was a soft soul.

One look at Eddie and Tommy didn’t even question it.

Eddie had made his rounds, too. He tried to find a place where he fit - kitchen duty wasn’t great, nor was butchering or helping run the stable.

It isn’t until he throws out the idea of patrolling that Tommy even considers it—it wasn’t something he liked to offer up unless people showed interest.

And even then, it was an adjustment.

A mix of both trust and skill—constant awareness, a willingness to communicate, and the ability to brave whatever challenge or elements you’d face outside the fortified walls of Jackson.

So, that’s where you were.

Eddie has tagged along for your patrol with Joel.

It was two days and one night in the small cabin out west. It wasn’t far from Jackson, either. In fact, it was one of the easier patrols and Joel could easily doze off at his post while you kept yourself busy.

It was easy, calm.

“Is this all you do?” Eddie asks curiously, tearing into his bag of jerky like a rabid dog, the dried meat cracking under the pressure of his teeth, “Just sit?”

It wasn’t the first question he’s asked, nor the last. 

It started with him asking if Joel and Tommy were real brothers before divulging into several questions about life before the infection spread—all mundane and simple, but you have learned so much about Joel in the few years you’ve lived in Jackson.

When he was tired or irritated, happy, when he needed you without the courage to ask, but more importantly—

You could tell when he was annoyed.

You glance over your shoulder and catch the shifty gaze he gives you, biting his tongue for a moment before he nods you over, sitting at the kitchen table whittling away on a chunk of wood to keep himself busy.

Both physically and mentally.

“Shit is a killer,” Eddie adds, “—might have to bring my guitar with me from now on, play some tunes or—“

His voice is drowned out by Joel as he speaks without looking at you, playing your actions off as you were searching through your pack.

“Shut him up,” Joel demands, “now,”

“He’s excited,” You shrug, watching as Eddie stood to explore the cabin, tapping on some old, withering blinds that fell to the floor in an instant, his gaze shooting up at you both and looking immediately sheepish.

“He’s interrupting,” Joel corrects, his head tilting up slightly to look at you as you smirk, biting down on your lip to stifle the laugh in your throat.

Joel was greedy and never shy about it, not with you.

Eddie brings the broken set of blinds over and places it on the table with a smile before pulling the chair back with a loud, ear grating screech against the hardwood and taking a seat with a loud thump.

“Oh, shit—that’s cool,” Eddie notes, pointing lazily at Joel and the soon-to-be figurine tucked away in his meaty palm, met with an eyebrow raise and a quiet noise of acknowledgement before both of their eyes shift to you.

It was similar in intensity, both with entirely different meanings. Joel had you, for months now. One small incident of a shared bed had helped something blossom between each other, though largely unaddressed.

He liked having you around, you liked being around, even if that only meant patrols and the occasional nights Joel would drag you up to his room and have his way.

You don’t question it and neither does he, but Joel was mostly undisturbed until Eddie came along, that all too familiar twinkle in his eye that he caught from many of the younger men around Jackson.

You were like a new toy; fresh and ready to be played with. Although Eddie seemed harmless, he posed a challenge for Joel. Not only because of his growing obsession with you, but because he was a nuisance.

“So, princess,” His feet slam against the table as his boots shake the surface, “what’d you do to keep busy?”

Joel chuckles quietly, a subtle noise that Eddie doesn’t seem to catch, unfortunately you do.

Him. Joel.

Joel keeps you busy. Whether with your mouth or his own.

“Uh, sleep,” You answer lamely, “or nothin’—s’kinda nice to sit with your own thoughts sometimes with how busy Jackson is lately. It’s quiet out here.”

“Dunno ‘bout that,” Joel retorts.

Eddie chuckles unknowingly, “What’s that mean?”

His eyes shift toward you as you shove your hands into the back pockets of your jeans and walk around the table and near him, his fingers dragging along the leather of the jacket he had claimed while sifting through the newest delivery of clothes that had been found during a search.

It was almost identical to his own, save a few tears in the fabric.

“Looks amazing,” Eddie comments, a smile spreading across your face almost instinctively, your heart fluttering with the way his fingers trail against the inside of your palm as he loosely holds your hand, “knew it would.”

Joel watches the exchange with a newfound curiosity.

He’s never been possessive, but seeing you interact with Eddie ignites a strange feeling within him, shifting slightly in his chair to break the moment apart.

“Go on, kid—it’s your turn,” He nods toward Eddie who seems eager to get his first chance at rounding the area, grabbing the shotgun off the table and trampling out the door without question.

As the door shuts, Joel places the items in his hands on the table and scoots back, standing from his chair as quietly walks the expanse of the table before he reaches you, rubbing a finger along the tacky leather of your jacket.

“Princess,” He begins mockingly, “a real charmer, ain’t he?”

You scoff at his tone and push his hand away, quickly met with resistance as his hands cup your face and maneuvers you back against the dining table, clumsily landing against the surface as Joel’s tongue spears between your lips and into your mouth, swallowing up the gasp of surprise that slips out. 

“Are - are you jealous?” You ask through the smothering, wet exchanges of tongue and teeth, spreading your hands out over his broad shoulders before they’re pushing him back, begging for a break. 

“Kid follows you around like a stray,” He tells you, “he’s waiting for a treat—but I think you know that.”

“And if—“ A gentle kiss to the neck, slowly pushing the jacket off your shoulder, “if I do?”

“Careful,” Joel warns, his fingers pushing your shirt off your shoulders before your hands wrap around his thick fingers, pushing him away gently.

“Last I checked, I don’t belong to anyone,” You retorted.

And you’re right—Joel would never force that on you.

You were allowed to have whatever you wanted. Even if it extended beyond him, but for Joel, you were it for him.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever have the courage to admit it, but internally, he’s known it for a while.

“I know a way to keep him quiet,” You begin, tugging weakly at Joel’s belt, still fastened in place and mostly to tease him, his hands spreading out flat against the table to steady himself, “but you aren’t gonna like it.”

Joel could stake his claim now, forbid it.

But, he doesn’t.

There’s a brief glimpse of intrigue that crosses Joel’s features and you catch it, a smile growing on your face.

“Don’t worry, I won’t sneak off,” You assure him, “I know you like to watch.”

Joel’s skin flushes hot at your words, cock swelling behind the layers of fabric that kept him confined.

He’s watched you countless times, under his instructions as you play with yourself, fingers sliding through a slick mess of your own doing, occasionally a mix of his own.

“The kid can barely look at me,” Joel counters, “ya think he’s really gonna do anything with me in the room?”

“I think you severely underestimate me,” You challenge him, “and I really don’t appreciate that,”

“Go on then,” Joel taunts, “that shithead ain’t better than me, we’ll see how well it goes for ya before I have to step in.”

Challenge accepted.

—

When Eddie returns, Joel takes his place.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” Eddie asks randomly as he strips off his own jacket and unties the plaid button down from his waist, leaving him in a thin shirt and ripped jeans, toeing off his boots before he collapses into the couch, spreading his legs as one hikes over the back and his hands fall against his stomach.

“Joel is hard to get along with,” You admit.

“You seem to be doing fine,”

“It takes time,” Among other things.

Stripped down to a similar few layers, you fit between his legs as you sit on your knees, elbow propped against the back of the couch as your fist meets your chin.

“I do like the jacket,” You assure him, watching him fiddle absentmindedly with one of his rings as he smiles at you, the lines near his cheek deepening. 

“Yeah?” Eddie perks up with a surge of confidence.

“Don’t let him get to you,” You nod vaguely toward the front door, “he’s just jealous.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at that, silently begging you to elaborate.

Quietly, you scoot closer and trade his fidgeting hands for your own, playing with his rings.

“He hates the way you look at me,” You admit, spotting the brief recognition across his features before his eyes slowly darken, rising on his elbows as your hand slowly reaches for his shirt, hand sliding out flat against his stomach, “or how I let you touch me.”

“But, we’ve never…”

“I know,” You nod in agreement, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to—I do, I was just…waiting for you to ask.”

The air shifts with your words, watching him slowly raise to his palms as you lean forward, bodies only a few inches away as you climb into his lap, lips brushing against each other briefly.

“M’not—I’ve never—“

“Kissed anyone?”

It was endearing, in a way.

“No, no—‘course I have. Just, never really done much else. I’ve gone down a few times, sucked a couple cocks, but…”

Oh. 

Oh.

”I really shouldn’t be corrupting you on your first patrol,”

Eddie chuckles against your lips, feeling the subtle brush as your hips shift against him, his neck straining as he chases your mouth.

“Fuck it,” Eddie answers flippantly, “Joel’s got it.”

You nod in agreement with a mirrored shrug before Eddie’s kissing you with a sudden eagerness, surprisingly more rough than you’re expecting as his teeth dig into your bottom lip.

He’s smothering in the best way, hands splayed at your hips before they get curious, squeezing at your thighs, legs, finding their way underneath the material of your shirt as his fingers squeeze against the base of your spine. Exploring your mouth curiously until you’re both panting against each other more than kissing, his face squished against your cheek as you rut into him.

“We should move right?” Eddie suggests, “He’s coming back soon.”

“Who cares,” You shrug, leaning back just enough to strip your shirt off and pop the button of your jeans, “besides—maybe he’ll take up my shift for me, you know, if he sees us.”

He wouldn’t, but you still provide reassurance.

And Eddie looks somehow even more adoring as he slips the makeshift hair tie from your wrist and pulls back his own hair, unruly curls and overgrown length, desperately due for a trim.

“Just in case we get messy,” He tells you, watching as you pushed back to strip your jeans off, laying back on the couch before he’s moving between your legs and pulling your pants off the rest of the way, his right hand reaching down the center of his back to yank at his own shirt, discarding it along with the growing pile of clothes.

“I’m counting on it,” You retort, fingers pushing through the front of his hair just before the hastily tied bun as you bring him down slowly, his fingers twisting around the band at your hips, his nose nuzzling into your cunt as he breathes you in, eyelashes fanning over his rosy cheeks.

It’s fresh soap and lavender oils, homegrown and made within the walls of Jackson—he’s become used to the smell. It was like home now, making do with what he had.

He smells of it too with a faint musk of sweat from the spring humidity, silently maneuvering your panties down and off your ankle, tossing them to the floor.

“May I, my lady?” Eddie asks with a smirk, his hot breath fanning over you cunt as you nod frantically, feeling your pussy clench at how close he was, begging for his mouth.

“Oh, please,” You feign distress, a short-lived giggle transforming into a surprised gasp as his tongue spreads through your folds, wide and spearing into you with little hesitation or fumbling hands, surprisingly sure of himself.

Your fingers tighten in Eddie's hair as his tongue explores the divine split between your legs, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. He laps at your clit with focused intensity, a strange sight as his eyes are closed and his hands tighten around your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and pinpoint flicks of his tongue that make your legs shake.

“Eddie,” You sigh, feeling two fingers breach your hole, pushing inside of you with ease as the dual sensation of his fingers and tongue blind you to everything, back arching from the couch slightly as he hums against your pussy, acknowledging your call, “fuck—oh, god—I’m gonna—”

His eagerness grows with your words, shaking his face slightly into your cunt as his nose grazes your clit, the already sensitive nub soaking up the attention as your walls squeeze around his fingers, dexterous and rubbing deep inside of you, curling at just the right angle.

“I gotcha, princess,” He assures you, moving away for a brief moment to kiss at the spot where your thigh meets your cunt, grunting at how tight you’re gripping the chuck of his hair twisted in your fist, “if you could see her—” His fingers pulling out as he collects the sweet slick, fingers slowly sliding down your pussy and up before he’s bringing the fingers to his mouth, three fit between his lips, “shoulda known you’d make a mess.”

You can only laugh, a broken sigh as he continues his relentless rubbing of your clit, watching as your hole fluttered around absolutely nothing now, missing his tongue and his fingers, both of you so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear the front door creak open until Joel’s boots are stomping past and Eddie’s first reaction is to pull back, your eyes peeking open to stare down a suppressing satisfaction on Joel’s face as your orgasm whisked away from you. 

Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the scene before him - you splayed out on the couch, legs spread wide, and Eddie between them with slick coating his lips and chin. For a moment, tension crackles in the air as Joel's gaze flicks between you and Eddie, before decidedly landing on you.

Then a slow smirk spreads across Joel's face. "Don't stop on my account," he drawls, leaning casually against the back of the couch with his palms curling over the edge, just within reach. "Looks like you two were havin' quite a time without me."

Eddie hesitates, his hands still gripping your thighs. 

"Go on, boy," Joel encourages, his voice low and rough. "Finish what you started."

With a grunt, Eddie dives back in, redoubling his efforts. His tongue swirls around your clit as two fingers plunge inside you once more. You cry out, hips bucking against his face.

Joel moves closer, almost taunting. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Let us hear those pretty sounds."

You gasp at the intensity of Eddie’s tongue, his fingers slipping out to flatten against your chest, stilling your insistent squirming as you grab his hand out of desperation, a need for an anchor.

Your eyes flutter closed, pressure building as the heat in your belly swirled, feeling a hand fist into your scalp similarly to how you had Eddie, but it was Joel, forcing your eyes open with the tinge of pain it brought as he glances down at Eddie who’s also got his eyes on you, obediently silent despite his current course of action.

Your own eyes are pleading, speaking to Joel silently.

Look, I did what you asked. Praise me.

Eddie doesn’t question it, the dutiful boy he was. 

But, he’s also…sensed things for a while.

Pining away at a person who would never truly be his own, already claimed.

Though, maybe he was wrong.

Joel’s eyes on him, Eddie’s on you—Joel was always watching, careful to keep the young pup in line, but he can’t help admiring your face, a mix of anguish and pleasure as you stared up at Joel.

“Come for us, darlin’,” Joel demands, Eddie’s lips sucking at your clit with his pointed words.

You come with a broken sob, an intense wave of ecstasy washing over as Eddie works you masterfully through your orgasm. Joel's approving growl mingles with your cries of pleasure, working silently at his belt as you work through your frantic breathing, patting Eddie’s head gently at his squeezes comfortingly at your thighs.

He’s working up the courage to say something, anything, but you rise to meet him where he is at his knees, “It’s okay,” You assure him, “Joel’s all show, anyways.”

Not true, but you both share a short laugh.

“He likes to watch,” You admit to Eddie, “don’t you, Joel?”

“S’long as my girl is satisfied,” Joel shrugs, a creeping smirk on his face that always meant he was up to no good, “you satisfied, sweetheart?”

To an extent, sure. But, as Joel strips the leather from the loops in his jeans, he’s almost taunting the idea at you and Eddie who isn’t shy about his strange attraction to the energy you both emit, rubbing his palm over the front of his tight jeans, swallowing audibly. 

“Depends,” You counter, reaching forward while your eyes are locked on Joel, matching Eddie’s hand as you squeeze over the sizable bulge in his jeans, “Eddie, you need Joel to show you the ropes?”

You turn to Eddie then, eyes bright and excited but tentative to his response.

“Uh, ya—yeah,” He agrees, “fuck yeah.”

–

Joel has never been shy, but is quiet about his confidence.

The difference between he and Eddie was stark and obvious, but he could see the kid was genuine. Young, unjaded, still full of life—he knows you’re better suited for Eddie.

But, Joel is also selfish when it comes to you; he could share, within reason.

If you wanted it.

He’s lucky these faded, old couches sit so low otherwise his knees would be punishing him for it.

Eddie’s waiting in the wings, oddly attentive despite the strange dynamic as Joel removes his cock from the confines of his jeans and underwear, lengthy but dominating Eddie in girth without a challenge and he can’t help but look at you, eyes half-lidded and simmering with the remnants of your last orgasm as Joel swiped the head of his cock through your folds, a content hum slipping past your lips.

Joel instinctively spits on your pussy, a sensual action that feels wholly intimate.

It makes Eddie’s mouth water with how pretty you sound, how eager he is to have you make those sounds for him too.

“He wants more,” You note, talking to Joel but your hand reaches for Eddie and spreads out over his thigh, “should I let him fuck me instead?”

“He can’t do it like I do,” Joel smirks and presses the head of his cock inside of you to prove a point, savoring the delicious stretch of him as he pushes his hips forward, nails scratching against the denim of Eddie’s jeans with the motion, your walls squeezing around Joel’s shaft, “she always remembers me, don’ she?”

You gasp with a nod, arching your back as Joel fills you completely. Your hand tightens on Eddie's thigh, and you turn to look at him and instantly see the hunger in his eyes. Joel's hands grip your hips and he starts to move, slow and deliberate at first. Each thrust sends finite sparks of pleasure through your body, helpless to the small moans that escape your lips.

Eddie leans in slightly, mesmerized by your twisted expression of obvious pleasure but also at how Joel’s cock sinks into your cunt with the powerful thrusts as he kneels over your, sinking into the old cushion as your knees hang lazily at his hips, feeling the distant touch of Eddie’s fingers around your ankle, a constant reminder of his presence.

His own erection strains against his jeans, and he shifts uncomfortably, desperate for some relief. Joel isn’t ignoring him either, his hand coming up behind your neck to arch your chin up, exposing your chest to both of the men.

“You want a turn, kid?” Joel grunts, menacingly teasing. He never breaks his rhythm, crows feet deepening around his eyes as his face scrunches up in pleasure, before Eddie can answer Joel speaks again, “gotta earn it—show ‘er some attention.”

Eddie doesn't hesitate. His hands are on you in an instant, cupping your breasts and squeezing. The added stimulation makes you cry out, your body trembling between the two men.

“There ya go,” Joel encourages, “feels good, don’t it?”

You only realize a second too late that he’s talking to you and not Eddie, a sharp slap to your ass as you nod weakly, “Mhm, so good,” You answer softly, earning a chuckle from Joel.

“Forget how cock drunk she gets,” Joel speaks to Eddie who’s as equally mesmerized as Joel.

Joel quickly picks up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, the deafening sound of skin slapping against skin drowning out your moans and Joel’s grunts.

“Tell ‘em, darlin’,” Joel demands, “tell Eddie how good I fuck you.”

Your fingers travel higher, curling around his belt as you pull him forward until his knee is pressing into your rib cage, “It’s per—perfect,” You sigh brokenly, eyes fluttering shut as he brushes that deep spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, 

“C’mere and pay attention, ” Joel orders with a growl, nodding his head in a matching motion, “She likes it slow at first, real deep. She’s greedy. You gotta build her up - nice, slow, until she’s beggin’ for it. And trust me, she will.”

Eddie nods dumbly, fingers rising to scratch at his chest as Joel’s thrusts falter, his groans growing longer and deeper, legs shaking with his own impending orgasm.

“Touch me,” You beg up at Eddie, who’s still dumbfounded with his hand on your breast but his eyebrows quirks in question before you’re shaking your head subtly, guiding his hand down to the point where you and Joel are joined, brushing his fingertips over your clit as you nod.

Eddie's fingers circle your sensitive bud hesitant at first, then with more confidence as your breathy moans encourage him. The dual sensations of Joel's thick cock pounding into you and Eddie's skilled fingers on your clit quickly push you to the edge again, gushing over Joel’s cock as his hips falter to a stop and the surge of his orgasm forces a groan from deep within his chest, filling you to the brim with his warm seed. 

“That’s it,” Joel coos, “show Eddie how pretty you look when you come apart on my cock.”

Your orgasm crests as Eddie watches in awe, his fingers continuing their motion over your clit until your hips shake with overstimulation, sobbing weakly as you reach over your head to grip at the couch with the hand that isn’t pinching Eddie’s skin at his waist.

For a moment, there’s silence. Only a mix of your and Joel’s heavy breathing and Eddie’s occasional pant, eyes blown wide with pleasure as Joel stands with a grunt and pulls his jeans and underwear back on, hastily buttoning them before he’s nodding at you.

“Go on,” He says gruffly, “your turn.”

The ache in your cunt is devastating but Joel watches with admiration as the opaque liquid pushes out of your hole as you cunt spasms and you can sense a brief moment of hesitation from Eddie before you finally look at him, a silent moment of understanding.

“Do you want to?” You ask curiously, head rolling to the side as you glance up at him.

“Do I—huh, you’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks with a tone of incredulous disbelief. “Uh, yeah—fuckin’ yeah. I want to.”

You giggle softly, “I’m just checking,” You assure, “I don’t want to pressure you too much.”

Eddie’s eyes darken with desire but still, somehow, maintain his softness.

“There’s no pressure,” He assured, “but if—if you don’t mind I’ve got a couple ideas of my own.”

Oh?

You squeal softly at how Eddie manhandles you into his position of choice, ass held up by his steel grip as your head sinks into the lap of Joel who’s decidedly taken a seat as your head lulls to the side, peering up at him with a playful expression.

He smells like sex and outdoors, a hint of cleanliness from his washed clothes but it was intoxicating, mesmerizing, feeling the ringed hand of Eddie slide up your spine once he’s stripped himself of his remaining clothes without hesitation.

You reach down between your legs to guide him, gasping softly as the head of his cock nudges against your sensitive, swollen folds. Eddie groans at the sensation, his hips jerking forward instinctively.

“Easy,” Joel says instinctively, his eyes stuck on you as he brushes your mused hair away from your face, “remember—slow, she’ll let you know what she wants.”

Eddie nods as he eases inside of you, aided by the prior stretch of Joel, but his length is astounding, nudging deep against your walls before he’s even fully sheathed. His thrusts are fumbling at first, hearing the deep breaths he takes as he adjusts to the intense feeling around his cock, astounded that it has taken him this long to achieve such a thing.

He really shouldn’t beat himself up over, given the end of the world and all, but he can’t believe he’s been missing out on this for so long. 

Eventually he finds a steady rhythm that has you gasping with every thrust, fingers crawling up Joel’s bare chest until you reach his face, fingers curling around the back of his neck as you moan into the denim, drooling over the fabric.

“That’s it,” Joel encourages and Eddie’s eyes are stuck on you, forcing himself to commit the moment to memory, watching how greedily your cunt sucks his cock in, squeezing at the flesh of your ass as he moans pathetically, the sound making your pussy flutter.

And Joel knows he’s still being as equally selfish as earlier, your attention locked on him despite Eddie’s affect on you and there’s tinge of jealousy that strikes Eddie as he watches the exchange, your moans building in intensity before he’s less than carefully maneuvering you upright, towering over you like this with how you sunk into the cushion, his hand traveling up the front of your chest until his fingers squeeze around your neck and tilt your head back until you’re looking directly up at him, pupils blown wide.

You were his in this moment, not Joel’s.

“Open your mouth,” Eddie tells you, lips parting without argument as his thumb drags over your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as your tongue peeks out to lick at his finger with a soft giggle he matches with a toothy grin before he’s accumulating the saliva in his mouth and puckering his lips to spit into your waiting mouth, a long string stretching as it hits your tongue, moaning audibly as you swallow, sealed with a devastating wink from Eddie.

He was giving Joel a run for his money, that much was obvious.

Joel's eyes narrow at the display, a mix of arousal and possessiveness flaring in his chest. 

He won't be outdone that easily. 

With a low growl, he moves to his knees, sandwiching you between the two men as his fingers drift over your clit similar to how Eddie’s had earlier, “Speak up, sweetheart,” He bites, “is he treating you right?”

You nod eagerly, “Faster,” You beg to Eddie, a hand creeping around the back of his neck to fist into his hair that was wild and falling from the tie on his head, an attentive listener as his pace picks up instantly, “fuck—yes, like that!”

Eddie smirks at Joel over your shoulder, clearly enjoying the competition now.

Eddie tightens his grip on your throat slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your body is on fire, caught between the two men and helpless to their greed, seconds away from devouring you whole if you allow it.

Joel’s fingers work your clit in tight circles as he leans into you, nearly chest to chest as his hot breath brushes your ear, “Still ain’t better than me,” He teases, “but he’s got the spirit.”

The gentle brush of his beard and his lips sucking at your neck could make you pass out if you let it and your body trembles, caught between the two men vying for your attention.

Eddie's thrusts grow more erratic as he watches Joel mark your neck beside his fingers, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your head swim.

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess," Eddie groans, his free hand snaking around your stomach, wrapped up in both the men and helpless, "Gonna make you come on my cock while he watches, alright?"

“Uh huh,” You respond airily, a stuttering gasp escaping your lips as Joel’s pace quickens against your clit and matches Eddie’s enthusiastic thrusts, his own moans growing in intensity as his head dips, breathing against the base of your neck as your hand in his hair twists and the other grasps desperately for Joel’s naked shoulder.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Joel purrs decidedly, “Let go for us.”

“I can feel it, princess—s’right there,” Eddie encourages.

Your third orgasm hits you quick, vision whiting out as you clench around Eddie's length. He follows soon after with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he spills inside you.

The room fills with heavy breathing as you and Eddie come down from your shared high, his grip on your throat loosens, hand sliding down to rest on your collarbone. Joel's fingers slow their movements, drawing out the last tremors of your waning orgasm.

The thought dawns on you as the room stills.

You’re fucking exhausted.

A laugh bubbles from your throat unexpectedly.

“There’s our girl,” Joel chuckles, “ya still with us?”

You nod slowly as Eddie gently maneuvers away from you, the air catching in his throat as he watches this mix of his and Joel’s cum dripping from your cunt, clearing his throat as he hides the smirk on his face. There was a brief look he shares with Joel before Joel’s hand is smoothing over your back, his other hand explorative as he touches between your legs.

“What a goddamn mess,” He notes fondly, swiping up the slick on his fingers before he brings it to your mouth, wordlessly you take the fingers in your mouth and suck, “tell you what—you go on and shower, clean up—the kid and I’ll cover your turn.”

You do have other ideas, but you can sense Joel’s hesitance.

Eddie is a good distance away now, face still flushed as he digs through his bag.

“I thought you couldn’t stand to be alone with him?”

“I’ll put up with it,” Joel admits, “seein’ how much you like him and all.”

“You sure I can’t get you both to join me in the shower?”

Joel hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

“Careful, darlin’—don’t push it,” He warns.

“Do you need any help?” Eddie perks up eventually, a relaxed smile on his face as he grips the fabric of his shirt in his hands.

You shake your head and smile at the subtle rejected puppy dog eyes that flash your way.

“I think you and Joel have a lot to talk about, fortunately.”

And boy, did they ever.

[fallingformatt]

SINCE WE’RE PLAYING GAMES M.S.

Matt x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you try to cheat your way to win a game of twister?

warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT! unprotected sex, slight bdsm.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: Yall are some freaky fucking fucks… over a thousand notes on my post? Yall are insane, im so thankful for yall dirty minded ass people. I truly did not expect that to happen on my second post ever. And thank you all for almost 300 followers yall are the GOATS!!!

Let me know if I should write a pt. 2 for FIRST GLANCE M.S. available here

post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

I'm currently at the triplet's house. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful orange hue to the living room where we all are sitting, drinking some drinks, and just talking. The music in the background isn't loud but I can hear it clearly.

"I'm bored, let's do something fun," Matt says looking down into his half-empty cup. "Well I don't have any ideas," Chris shrugs his shoulders. "I have an amazing idea," Nick yells, startling me. "Nick, you scared me, I almost spilled my drink," I say out loudly slapping his shoulder. "Please ask me what my idea is, please, please, please," Nick tries to plead to make us ask him what his idea is.

"So what is ur 'amazing' idea?" I ask looking at him with a serious face. "We're all gonna play twister," Nick says ecstatically clapping his hands together like a kid. "No Nick, we are not playing twister, we're not five," Matt says annoyed. "Oh look I'm Matt, I'm so tuff and boring, I don't like to have fun," Nick mocks Matt, making me and Chris laugh.

"Well I don't know about y'all, but I'm tipsy, there's no way I could play twister right now," Matt says tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, his eyes from across the room to meet mine, sending butterflies to my stomach.

I've always had a little crush on Matt, but I never really did anything about it, because I didn't want to ruin the friendship between us. I mean yeah, sure I would sometimes tease him, wearing something revealing, making his eyes wander to places they shouldn't, for example, today, I was wearing short, low-waisted shorts and a small leopard print baby tee, but I knew that, me doing something with Matt would probably change the dynamics of the group as a whole, so I left it as is, hoping my crush on Matt would sooner or later die down.

"You're just scared that you'll lose, so I have a proposition, whoever loses takes a shot of vodka," Nick says proudly. "That's the dumbest thing I have heard in my life," Matt says crossing his arms. "Well, as far as I know, five-year-olds can't drink vodka, so who's the five-year-old now huh?" Nick defends his idea. "We all are a bit tipsy so the chances of you winning are fair, you're just a pussy," Nick says trying to provoke Matt. "Yeah Matt, don't be a pussy," Chris joins in. "Okay, that's it, we're playing, and I'm going to win," Matt says and smiles confidently. Nick claps his hands excitedly as he stands up and walks to the pile of board games that are stacked on a shelf above the TV.

"Found it! Y'all are going down, I hope y'all like the taste of losing, because y'all are gonna be licking the L's shortly," Nick says with a devious smile. "Okay, this one's clearly had more than enough to drink," Matt says as he facepalms.

Nick sets up the game, laying the playing pad down on the floor and placing the spinner next to the mat. "So, who wants to go first?" Nick says grinning. "I'll go," Chris answers and bends down to spin the indicator. "Right foot on red." He says out loud and steps on the playing mat. We all take our turns and the game is starting to get intense.

"Nick you are going to lose," Matt says his voice getting higher at the end of the sentence. The poses we are in are criminal. We are four, grown adults standing on this little mat, meant for children. At this point in the game, the slightest movement could make us all fall down. "Chris, you look like a deformed frog," I say as I'm laughing, almost snorting. Chris's right foot is still on red, his left foot is on blue, his right hand on blue, in front of his left leg, and his left hand is in front of his right leg. Nick is chilling in a comfortable position, meanwhile, I'm stretched out, so close to fall.

We all spin a few times. When all of a sudden Chris loses his balance and falls. "Hah, it wasn't even your turn, you're out, take a shot," Nick yells, happy that he's still in the game. "This is so annoying, 100 bucks on Nick falling next," Chris says as he takes a shot of vodka. I'm now in a compromising position, both of my hands are on red and my feet are on green and yellow, my position is leaving my ass high up in the air. Nick is now barely staying in the game.

"Nick it's your turn," Chris says out loudly, the alcohol he's had, making him unaware of the volume he's speaking in. Nick spins the spinner, "right hand green," Chris says. As Nick tried to move his hand, he lost his balance and fell. "Fuck," he yells out as he stands up. "Where my money at?" Chris says as he hands Nick a shot of vodka.

"Spin it," I say to Matt, and he does. "Left hand red," I say and Matt starts to move his left hand. Now both of his hands need to be on red and the only place in order for him not to fall is on either side of my hands. As he moves over me he brushes against my ass making me lose my balance slightly. Placing his hand next to mine, his head is now next to mine, "sorry," he says quietly, his hot breath brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

It's now my turn and if I don't think of something quickly, I'm going to lose. I look over my shoulder to see what Chris and Nick are doing, they are currently in the kitchen getting some drinks. My lips move making a small grin, this is perfect.

As I reach for the spinner, I pop up my ass, making it brush against Matt's crotch. "Right hand red, looks like I'm safe for now," I say as I turn to Matt, a smirk appearing on my lips.

After taking my turn, I move back, again brushing against his crotch, now feeling something hard. "Don't do that," Matt says in an almost moaning tone. "Do what?" I say looking at him. "Don't try to act all innocent," he says in a serious tone. "It's your turn," I say, a smile plastered on my face.

Matt takes his turn and spins the spinner, "left foot green," He says, looking at the spinner. As he tries to move, I once again pop up my ass, making him brush against it once again, the tension on his crotch getting too much for him, making him lose his balance and he falls. "Ha, I win," I say as I stand up clapping my hands together. Nick and Chris rush over to the living room.

"Did Matt lose?" Nick asks. "Yeah because she cheated," he says, anger and frustration can be heard in his voice. "What did I do, that counts as cheating?" I ask, raising one eyebrow, as a smirk creeps on my lips again, knowing he can't say anything without explaining him further. "Nothing," Matt murmurs. "What's that? I couldn't hear you," I tease him. "I said, nothing," Matt raises his voice, standing up and storming off to his room.

"I am too drunk for this," Chris says throwing up his hands as he turns around and heads to his room. "Can you help me clean this up?" I ask Nick, and he nods kneeling down.

We cleaned everything up and put the game back in its place. "You ready to head to bed?" Nick asks. "You go, I'm going to come later, I'm going to check on Matt," I say as I start walking to Matt's room. "Goodnight Nick," I say smiling. "Goodnight." He answers.

Without knocking I open the door to Matt's room. "Hey, you okay?" I ask as I look at him. He's sitting on the edge of his bed looking straight at me. "I was waiting for you to come in, want to play a game?" Matt says. "Sure, what game?" I ask unsure what game he had planned.

"Since we're playing games, let's play a game you can't cheat in," he says a smirk creeping on his lips. "Simon says, close the door," Matt says. Oh shit, we're already playing. I close the door not moving an inch. "Simon says turn around and lock the door," his voice getting deeper. I do as he says. "Simon says turn back around and stand in front of me," he says. As I turn around, about to walk in front of Matt, my eyes meet his, his eyes grow dark and his lips form a slight grin.

"Simon says strip," he says his tone getting even deeper, a hint of lust accompanying his voice. "What?" I ask, my voice slightly trembling. "You heard me, Simon says strip," he repeats. I start off by taking off my baby tee throwing it on the ground leaving my upper body fully naked. I slip out of my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles before stepping out of them. I pick up my head to look at Matt, he stares me up and down licking his lips.

He stands up and walks closer to me, his hands move my hair to one side of my shoulder, then proceeds to leave a wet kiss on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His hand reaches over my body, touching my neck as he stands behind me "Left hand red." He says as slides his hand down my neck stopping at my breast. He massages my boob, pulling on my nipple making me moan.

"You like that?" He whispers in my ear. I don't answer. "Simon says answer," Matt says as his other hand slides down into my panties, pressing his finger against my clit before rubbing circles, making me moan. "Yes Matt I like that," I say as I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder. He pulls out his hand, "Simon says turn around," Matt says and as soon as I do, he smashes his lips onto mine.

Matt wraps his hand around my waist taking small steps, leading us to his bed without breaking the kiss. I brush against his clothed cock, rubbing it slightly before I feel a slap on my hand making me break the kiss, I look up. "Nuh uh," Matt says shaking his finger, "Simon didn't say," he smirks and pulls his black t-shirt over his head throwing it to the ground next to my clothes.

He removes his belt, sliding it out of the belt loops of his oversized jean shorts, making them slide down a little, revealing the band of his boxers. He looks at me before moving his gaze to my hands.

"Simon says, extend your hands." His voice was demanding, I brought out my hands, and he grabbed them and put them together before wrapping and tying them together with his belt.

Matt puts his hand on my hips pushing them back, guiding me backward. As I take steps backward, I eventually fall on his bed. He crawls on top of me, spreading my legs with his knee, making space for himself.

He yanks up my hands by the tied belt, pinning them above my head, immediately, Matt attacks my neck with his lips, leaving a trail of kisses from my neck to my breasts, he kisses softly, slipping in a few bites. His hand slides up my thigh, stopping at my heat, his thumb starts to draw circles on my clit.

"Matt," I moan out. "Shhh, we don't want Nick or Chris hearing us do we?" He says looking up at me, taking his lips off of my breast. I shake my head in response and he smirks, "good girl," he says as he continues to rub circles on my clit his lips now moving back from my breast to my collarbone to my jaw before meeting my lips.

"Matt," I moan out as I try to pull my hands out of his grip. "Matt what?" He says as his hands push harder on mine, making sure I can't move. "Please, I need you," I whimper. He lets go of my hands and pulls away from my clit, making me let out a whimper from the loss of contact.

I immediately bring my hands down to my clit and start rubbing circles on my clit, pleasuring myself. As he unbuttons his jeans, he notices my hands, he grabs and pins them above my head again. "Are you gonna make me punish you?" He says his voice filthy and dark. "No," I say, shaking my head and looking at him. "Yeah, be a good girl for me," Matt says practically growling.

I move up and down my hips trying to get some relief as I watch him undo his jean shorts pulling them down, his boxers with them making his cock spring out, hitting his lower abdomen, precum glistening on his tip. Matt looks at me, "see what your little strategy to win did to me," he says raising his eyebrow.

"Please Matt, I can't take it anymore," I say as I scoot closer. Matt moves on top of me pinning my hands again, his other hand sliding my panties to the side before aligning himself with my heat. He pushes his cock in slowly before pulling it out almost completely, then pushing back in hard. "Oh- my- god- Matt-" I moan out between thrusts, his hand moving over my mouth to muffle my moans.

Matt fastens his thrusts, with each thrust going in deeper, making me moan out loud, he leans into my ear. "That's it, sweetheart, take my cock so good," Matt growls, pushing in me deeper than ever, his tip hitting my g-spot with every thrust. "Mmmm Matt you feel so good, I'm close," I moan out feeling my climax creeping up tension building in my stomach.

Matt moves his elbow next to my head, positioning himself so he's able to thrust even deeper. I arch my back as the pleasure takes over my body. His quiet moans landed in my ear, his hot breath sending me over the edge.

"Matt, I'm about to cum," I moan out. He smashes his lips onto mine in order to contain my moans as he plants a few more thrusts before I feel my walls tighten around his length, feeling the knot in my stomach releasing, my climax coming over me, I moan into the kiss. His hips continue to move as he thrusts in me a few more times before planting his cum inside me groaning, breaking the kiss.

He pulls out falling next to me, turning his head to look at me. "Who won?" He says smirking. "I did," I answer smiling, knowing this will piss him off. "Can you untie me?" I say as I shake my hands. "You didn't say Simon says," Matt answers teasing me back. "Simon says round two," I say as a devilish smirk appears on my lips.

I guess I won't be heading to Nick's room tonight.

[esmeefreckles]

Competition | Alexia Putellas x Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

+18 SMUT MINORS DNI

ALEXIA G!P. CARO G!P. BLOWJOB. ANAL SEX. RIMMING.

"Okay, take them off." You commanded your girlfriends, Caro and Alexia, who did as they were told and pulled their pants down, freeing their cocks. 

The eroticism of the situation already kept them rock hard, and you reached out to hold them in each hand, hearing them sigh at your touch. Smiling mischievously, you pulled them a bit closer and pressed the tips of their cocks together, making a spark of pleasure run through them. "Are you both sure you don't want to back out?" you asked, feeling even more excited after seeing the visible reaction that their bodies gave at the act. Both of them confidently shook their heads, ready to endure anything.

You loved both of your girlfriends equally, and they would never doubt it. You knew that they loved you just as much. Even though both of them respected and cared about each other, it didn't stop them from being very competitive, always arguing about who was better at pleasing you, and trying to prove that they were the better one. You were definitely not going to complain about it, as you found this rivalry of theirs to be so hot. You wanted to see how far they were willing to take it.

And so, you waited for the next moment where you three were all together, your girlfriends already undressing you and planting kisses all over your neck and collarbone, and before you could get carried away by it, you spoke up. "Wait..." As soon as you said that, both of them pulled away from you and stared at you with a mix of curiosity and concern, making your heart melt as you said your next words. "I have a proposition for you two. I want to do something new, and I want to see who would be able to last longer," you stated, already seeing the intrigued look that you thought they would give, as they would not want to miss an opportunity to prove who has better endurance in bed.

"I'm always down for that. And what will be Caro's punishment once she loses?" Alexia asked, making you laugh at the small growl that came out of Caro.

"Whoever loses... will have their ass on the line."

Their eyes widened, and you could see the range of emotions flickering across their faces, being able to tell that neither of them wanted to show submission to the other, but backing down from a challenge would be weak in their eyes.

After a moment of silence, Alexia huffed and gestured in Caro's direction. "Is that it? Do you really think I would be scared of that? Might as well have her bend over for me right now."

Caro scoffed in response. "Oh, as if you would last longer than me. You can barely hold your load the moment you enter her."

Alexia turned to Caro's direction with an expression of challenge but smirked and crossed her arms. "Hmpf, let's see about that then. I've always wondered what you would look like with my cock deep inside of you..."

The smirk was returned tenfold. "Then you will keep wondering. I will accept as well, but don't come crying later when you find out that you're addicted to taking it up the ass."

You smiled, and after you made them undress themselves, you made Alexia lay on her back on their bed while Caro straddled her hips. Caro's cock was now on top of Alexia's, and that sight was affecting you just as much as you knew it was affecting them, even if they were trying to not let any sound escape them. But you wanted more, you wanted them to fully voice how good they were feeling without caring about looking weak to the other, so you finally grabbed both of their cocks together, earning two simultaneous gasps, and after a moment of feeling how hard and warm the shafts were against each other in your gentle grip, you began the slow rhythm of her hand while occasionally squeezing them tightly, making their groins burn pleasantly together. You could clearly see the way they were struggling to control their breathing as you rubbed them together, "How is it so far?"

"It's f-fine for me. I can't say the same for her." Alexia answered, though her voice and breathing were noticeably more strained than usual.

"...This is nothing," Caro growled, even though you could see how her hips were jerking and felt the twitches in her dick.

"Hmm... really? I guess I can do this, then." You teased while quickening the pace of your strokes, and you were delighted to hear that your girlfriend's grunts were now turning into louder groans while your hand kept pumping them both faster and faster. You couldn't hold your own moans at this act, secretly hoping they would allow you to do this many more times from now on, and when you saw the precum on their tips, you stilled your hand for a moment and brought the other to Alexia's tip, gathering the droplet of precum that was dribbling out of it with a finger and slowly spreading it all over Caro's cockhead, as Caro gives a surprised moan at the sensitiveness.

"Fu- Fuuuck..." Caro gasped.

Alexia was also giving you a surprised, but aroused look, her eyes rolling back when you jerked them again with both hands this time, the gliding of your strokes being aided by their precum, and by now, Caro and Alexia had no hesitation in letting their voices out as they approached their climaxes, both women starting to rock their hips alongside your motions like they forgot all about the punishment. With their cocks twitching madly in your hands, you knew it would only be a matter of time before they couldn't hold it anymore, and you wondered who was going to shoot first.

"Fuck!".

To your surprise, it came from Alexia, her cock erupting on her torso while she groaned helplessly with every blast of cum that came out. The insistent throbbing of Alexia's cock set off Caro as well, her own load shooting out on top of Alexia's while she tried to keep her balance as her body trembled with pleasure, all while you kept stroking them through their orgasms, coaxing even more cum and moans out of them. Eventually, they had nothing left to give at the moment, and as Alexia closed her eyes and recovered from how surprisingly intense that orgasm was, she felt you releasing your grip on them while the weight on her body disappeared, so Alexia opened her eyes to see them staring at her, with Caro giving her an infuriating smirk through her own panting.

"Well, well, well, it appears that someone lost. You do remember what comes next, don't you?"

Alexia grits her teeth at her current mixed feelings, being disappointed that she didn't last longer than her girlfriend while her body betrayed her by feeling excited at the thought of her punishment, but she didn't let that show and hung her head low. "You're right. I lost. I accept my punishment."

Caro rolled her eyes in amusement and chuckled when Alexia yelped after you suddenly grabbed her legs and pushed them up in the air.

"Don't be so dramatic. It's not going to feel like a punishment, trust me," you said, your mouth immediately delving into Alexia's exposed anus, drawing another yelp from her at the sparks that ran through her body.

It wasn't the first time you had done this, but it was never to help prepare for an intrusion, and as Alexia tried to ignore that tongue assault on her ass, Caro kneeled on the bed next to her head, positioning her still erect dick next to her face and looking down at her with an expectant look. "I didn't agree to this."

"I know, but if it will make for an easier entry..."

Alexia growled again and swallowed her pride, turning her head to the side and opening her mouth to allow Caro to push her cock inside.

"Ooh, I always wanted to do this..." Caro moaned out, starting a slow rhythm inside of Alexia's mouth, who felt shocked at her girlfriend's admission that she wanted to be sucked by her. Even though Alexia herself would never admit this to them, she also had similar thoughts, sometimes fantasizing about running her tongue all over Caro's cock, and now that she was actually servicing it with her mouth and enjoying that act, she briefly wondered about how this would change their relationship before their stimulations were starting to overwhelm her.

Between your rimjob and Caro slowly fucking her throat, Alexia knew that her cock was at full mast again, with another orgasm not being far behind, and when Caro felt the vibrations of Alexia's increasing moans on her cock, she pulled away, slapping her wet cock on those lips a few times for good measure, and walking to your side while smirking again. "Uh-uh, you'll only get to finish again when I fuck it out of you."

Alexia glared at Caro to try and mask how turned on that made her as you took your tongue out of Alexia’s asshole and watched intently as Caro lined herself with it, the three women hissing when it went inside.

"My lord, what a tight hole... I'll make sure to not let it stay that way moving forward," Caro grunted as she pushed herself to the hilt.

"Hmm... I can't wait to see that... I love you two..." you breathed out, and Alexia kept her mouth sealed shut to avoid making any sound.

The stretch was much less painful and a lot more pleasurable than Alexia imagined, and as Caro moved, she covered her face with her arm to not show her reactions, enduring the pounding she was receiving as unresponsive as she could until the cock inside her hit a sensitive spot that accidentally made a small cry come out of her throat, something that was noticed by its owner.

"Hmm, what's the matter? Did this feel good?"

"S-Shut up." Alexia weakly rasped out as Caro continued thrusting into that spot. Even though she was trying not didn't want to admit how she was feeling, the three women knew it anyway, the twitches of her drooling erection and the tremors in her body being clear indications. Alexia grit her teeth and tried to control her heavy breathing before she felt a mouth on her chest and a hand on her dick, and she removed her arm from her face to see you sucking one of her breasts while Caro stroked her. 

"W-What are you two... doing!" Alexia began, but her speech dissolved into a stream of moans at those new sensations. With your mouth on her nipple while your hand pinched the other and with Caro accelerating even more the pace of her strokes and her thrusts, stretching her even further, there was no way for Alexia to hold back her reactions and her orgasm anymore, and after a particularly hard thrust from Caro, her body stiffened and she once again unloaded all over herself, the spurts almost hitting you with the rest dribbling on Caro's still pumping hand.

Caro smiled in satisfaction as she watched Alexia cum while being fucked, and she decided to join in by hitting herself and painting her insides with her load. "Take it!" She groaned, the feeling of coming inside her girlfriend while the hole she was inside became even tighter made this one of the biggest loads of her life, and when it finally ended, Caro sighed as she pulled away from the stretched entrance with her seed leaking out of it.

After Alexia recovered, she rubbed her eyes with her hands and debated whether or not to look at Caro to see the victorious smirk she would be wearing, finally deciding to glance at her and have her suspicions confirmed.

"What a mess you made. I always knew that you would love getting fucked by me, and now, both of you know that too." Caro smirked while lapping up Alexia's cum that landed on her hand, and she growled quietly.

Being there, leaking cum, while Caro tasted her release after fucking it out of her, Alexia felt ashamed for letting this happen to her, and with a determined look, she got up from the bed and walked up to Caro, who raised one eyebrow at her sudden closeness. Caro didn't need to wait long as Alexia then surprised all of them by grabbing Caro's face and pulling her into a kiss, Caro eagerly kissed back while holding Alexia's hips, both of them sharing the taste in their mouths while all of the cum from today on Alexia's torso now smeared on Caro's. 

After making out for a moment, Alexia broke the kiss and looked deep into Caro's eyes. "Next time, you'll be the one bending over for me."

Caro raised her brows, but then lightly chuckled and smiled softly. "I'll be waiting then. But I warn you, I won't give it to you that easily."

"Hmm, I wouldn't want you to." Alexia breathed and took Caro's lips again, all while you stared in fascination.

It was a very rare treat to see your girlfriends interacting like this, let alone eagerly swapping spit with each other, and as you watched the sword fighting going on down there while they made out, you finally remembered your own arousal, forgetting all about it during the heated competition. Bringing a hand to your panties, it was no surprise that they were already drenched. A moan escaped you as you caressed herself, and a quick glance at your girlfriends made her freeze, both of them now staring at you with hunger in their gazes, with Caro speaking up to Alexia. "I think we already let someone have her fun today. Wouldn't you say that she needs her own punishment?"

"I agree," Alexia responded, and you laughed awkwardly.

"Heh heh... D-Don't say that, it's not like you two didn't enjoy it too!" you tried to argue, but there was a big smile on your face as they approached her, and you made no move to resist their touches, already thinking about what could be the next competition.

One thing was for certain, you knew they would be looking forward to it just as much as you.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

I just thought of a cute scenerio !

Malleus/Jamil/Azul/Duece/Silver are trying to find thier tsum who ran off , only to find that they were "kidnpaed" by their girlfriend for cuddles ( they find them cuddled up in her room )

(i'm so surprised that someone hadn't requested something with the tsums so far! bless u for being the first to do so~)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul goes through several stages of grief all at once. Competing with this little creature for your affection had never been on his to-do list but he found himself annoyed at the sight for some reason. He became even more annoyed that he was annoyed because it meant nothing – just because it resembled him didn’t mean you held them both in the same regard. Yet at the same time you looked so happy cuddling with it, and the tsum itself looked quite content, eyes closed as it rested in your arms. Azul knows that’s exactly what he felt when you were together, a sense of peace that scared him but he couldn’t ignore, and he doesn’t like how similar he and the tsum really are.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce really hoped his tsum wasn’t causing trouble somewhere. They got lost so easily he’s not surprised when he doesn’t see his anywhere, asking Ace, and then an annoyed Riddle who had told him to watch his tsum much more closely. He asked whoever he saw if they knew where it was but when he approached you he noticed it settled on your shoulder, its head nudging against your cheek to beg for your attention. You nuzzled it back though you stayed focused on your task, and it seemed content enough to watch what you were doing while Deuce wondered how he could be jealous of something like a tsum.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil wants to know why he was forsaken to watch after energetic little things that only made his life more difficult. He almost felt like a glorified babysitter at first, and when the tsum disappeared he considered how lucky those who could retire are. He would get a serious case of whiplash when he realized the location of his tsum after countless hours of searching, fighting to keep the grimace off his face. Jamil himself could hardly admit how much he cared for you and yet here the tsum was, doing none of the work and getting all of the reward by cuddling with you so peacefully! He’s irritated and hid it poorly, with you worried he was mad at you while the tsum seemed quite smug (in Jamil’s opinion).

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus’ tsum had been quite insistent on staying by your side, even when it was told to stay put with him. It seemed he disappeared in a moment’s notice but he suspected he knew where it had gone, and instantly sought you out. You seemed quite happy to have the tsum resting on your lap, telling Malleus it had been standing guard by your door until you had opened up to let it in. It seemed content to sit with you and displeased when Malleus attempted to take it away, leading him to seat himself comfortably in your room to spend some time together… for the sake of the tsum, of course.

Silver:

Silver has an unreadable expression on his face. There’s a rarely seen pout that hints at jealousy, but he had never been the type to be jealous before. His tsum stayed snoozing in your arms, snuggled up comfortably against your chest like it had no worries in the world. He apologized for it intruding in your routine but you told him it was no big deal, remarking how it was just as cute as he is so you didn’t mind spending time with it. Some color dusted Silver’s cheeks at your comment before he stated he’ll keep a closer eye on the tsum from now on.

[zyhkoo]

🌼 daisy

fluff, f!civillian, pt 2 of this

( you are his only exception. )

Starting the next few days, there was.. a subtle shift in your relationship with Jason.

The small moments and gestures became more meaningful, a simple brush of hands or a glance held for too long. Jason knows he is absolutely doomed.

He would do things he would never do to his siblings. He would go out on cold nights to buy you the food you liked, just so he could see that little grateful smile on your face. He would let you convince him to try new films that he absolutely had no interest in, to see the way your eyes lit up as you talked about it.

One night, he went in your apartment window again. As he looked around and called your name, there was no answer. You were probably working late again he thought, so he shrugged and sat down on the couch.

His eyes flickered towards your door as he noticed the struggle of it fumbling to get open. He tensed immediately, his senses on high alert. Whoever was trying to open the door wasn't doing it quietly, that was for sure. He stood up, crossing the room quietly as he watched the door.

The struggle continued, the sound of the lock attempting to open echoed through the quiet apartment. Jason hovered just a few steps away from the door, his eyes darting from the doorknob to the small peep hole.

As the robber opened the door, he was met with a very menacing man with a red helmet. Jason didn't give the guy a chance to react. He lunged forward before the robber could even reach for his weapon, Jason had already disarmed him, pinning him against the wall.

The robber let out a cry of surprise and pain as Jason slammed him against the wall, his hands gripping tightly on the collar.

"You picked the wrong place, pal,"

The robber struggled against Jason's grip, his eyes wide and fearful as he found himself at the mercy of the Red Hood. "Please, man, I didn't—" he started to protest, but Jason cut him off with a harsh shove against the wall, shutting him up immediately.

"Shut up," Jason said, his voice hard. “Look, I will give you 30 seconds to get out of his apartment and if I still see you here you’re dead.”

The robber's eyes widened in terror as he trembled in fear. "Alright, alright! I'm going, man, I swear!" he stuttered out. Jason drops him on the ground as he watches the robber scurry away.

He looked to the side and realized you were there watching all along with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Good evening to you too.” you said.

"You're back," he said gruffly, his voice slightly quieter than usual. He took a step towards you, his eyes studying your expression.

“Did you really have to beat him up with your helmet on?”

"Yeah, I had to make sure he got the message," he replied, a bit amused. He approached you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You weren't supposed to see that."

He didn’t want you to see that ugly side of him— he was worried that you wouldn’t understand or if it would scare you away.

“I figured.” you replied “But, at least you kept my apartment safe.” you let out an amused huff as you walked to your door “You break into mine every night.”

"That's different," he rebutted. "I'm not a criminal, I'm just... checking up on you."

On a different night, he came in your window early again. He took a few steps into the room, his eyes scanning the surroundings. You were probably working late again, he thought.

Jason tensed slightly as he heard the door open, his instincts kicking in as he turned to see who was there. When he saw that it was you, he let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing fractionally. "You're back," he said.

You flashed him a warm smile “Hiii.” you chuckled. Jason saw as you stumbled a bit as you closed the door, he crossed the door towards you as he looked at you funny. “You good?”

“M’ kay.” you responded with a slur. Jason’s eyes narrowed as he picked up the slur in your voice, could you be drunk? His hand reached out to support you. "Are you drunk?" he asked as you hummed in response, “Mmmaybe.” you answered “I could be.”

Jason's eyes flicked over you, looking at your slightly dazed expression and your stumbling steps. He sighed, "You're definitely drunk," he grumbled, his hand still on your arm to steady you.

He gently guided you over to the couch, easing you down onto the cushions. "How much did you drink?" he asked, a bit annoyed. You extended out your arms, “This much..” he looks at you deadpanned, “Very precise.” he says dryly.

He ponders for a moment, should he take care of you? Or should he just put you to bed and leave? But then he looks at your dazed expression and thinks that you definitely need to be taken care of.

"What were you doing drinking so much?" he asked, his voice changing to a softer tone. You merely shrugged, “Co-workers invited me dunnoo..” he let out a small scoff, "You should know your limits.” he scolds.

You shrugged, “I drank a lot cause I know you’d take care of m’ anyway.” you said as you poked his shoulder. He exhaled slowly, trying to maintain his usual tough demeanor even though he was secretly touched by your trust. "Yeah, well, don't make a habit of it,"

Jason got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. He rummaged through the cupboards, looking for a glass. As he poured water in the cup, he carried the glass of water back to the living room, finding you seated on the couch with a vacant look on your face.

"Drink this," he opened your palm and placed the glass in your hand. But your grip was a bit loose so Jason grabbed the glass before it dropped.

Jason sighs as he holds the glass up your lips. His other hand was on your shoulder, steady and grounding. "Sip slowly," he instructed. He held the glass steady as you drank, watching intently to ensure you didn’t choke or spill.

Once you were done, he slowly lowered the glass, his hand still laying on your shoulder.

He took a moment to study your face, checking to see if you were any less dazed than before. Your eyes were still slightly glassy, your movements a bit clumsy. You were still definitely drunk. He let out another sigh, his hand still on your shoulder. “You’re a mess,” you smiled, “Your mess.” you retorted.

Jason's eyes widened fractionally at your response, heat creeping up his neck. "You're not making this any easier," he grumbled. How are you not throwing up yet?

You took his face in your hands, “You’re a pretty handsome fella.” he swallowed, his voice gruff yet soft, "And you're very drunk, sweetheart."

“Mmm, you knoww.. I changed my favorite color into red for ya.” you said as you started to ramble. Jason raised an eyebrow, "Red?”

“Yah, cause ‘Red’ Hood.” What a weirdo.

A huff escaped from Jason's lips. "Is that so?" he asked, "You changed your favorite color to red because of me?"

“Uhuh.” you nodded. "That's…” he started, “That's sweet.” he simply responded. You frowned, “You sound unsure.”

Jason's expression falters. He didn't want you to think he wasn't sincerely pleased. "No, I am," he hastened to reassure you. He reached up, his hand gently cupping the one you had on his cheek. “I’m just surprised, that's all.”

You started to smile again, “Really?” your smile was infectious— even in your drunk state. “Really,” He nodded, Jason thought it was funny how you could barely hold a glass of water yet you could firmly hold his face.

“You got a strong grip, for someone so drunk,” he commented. “Cause if I let go… you might leave for t’ night.” you slurred. Jason's chest tightened at your words. He looked at you, his expression softening.

Well, of course he needed to leave every night. What if someone tracked him and it led to your place? Or who knows whatever people would break in and take you as a hostage.

He shook his head slightly. He had no intention of leaving, not in your current state. “Not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he reassured, “I’ll stay.” your eyes bore into his, “You leave every night, I don’t like it.”

You were right, he did leave every night. It was a habit he had gotten used to. He sighed, “I’ll stay tonight, I promise.” He knew that he couldn’t tell you the reason why he had to leave each night. It was too dangerous, too risky. He had to maintain his cover, both for his and your safety.

But for now, he wanted to give you a little peace of mind.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he repeated, “I’ll stay here with you.”

“Promise?” you said softly. He met your gaze, his eyes steady and sincere. He couldn’t look away, not when you were looking at him like that. “Promise,” he affirmed back.

You smiled as you closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his. He tried to keep his cool, but your actions were affecting him more than he cared to admit. “I wanted t’ ask ya that for a while…” you confessed, “But m’ knew you’d say no.” you added as you slightly opened your eyes.

He couldn’t deny that you were right. He would have said no. He would have rejected you, made up some excuse. It was safer for both of you that way, or so he had convinced himself.

“I wanna cook ya food, patch up your wounds or.. or.. anything to make you stay.” you closed your eyes firmly, trying not to get your emotions ahead of you.

Jason could hear the longing in your voice and he felt the desperation as your hands shaked on his face. It was more than just wanting him to stay, it was begging him on some level.

But as he looked at you, your face pressed against his, your eyes tightly shut as if holding back more than just tears, he couldn't do it. “Look at me,” he requested.

The moment your eyes met his, Jason felt an odd tug at his heart. “What do you want, sweetheart?” your voice was shaky, “I—I want us.”

Looking at you, seeing the look in your eyes, he knew it was too late. His heart was already in your hands. “Okay,” he said, his voice a soft whisper, “Okay.” you looked at him confused, “Okay?”

"Yeah," he affirmed, "Okay as in... I want us too."

“You’re not agreein’ cause m’ drunk are ya?” you weren’t sure if he was just humoring you. He shook his head slightly, his gaze steady on yours. "No, sweetheart. I'm not just saying it because you're drunk. I mean it."

He took the hands holding his face and placed it in his heart. He looked at you, “Can you feel that?” he asked, “That’s me. That’s my heart. It’s all yours.” as you felt the hard thumps on his chest your cheeks flushed.

“You get embarrassed too easily,” he playfully scoffs, “Just from touching my chest?”

“M’ not embarrassed..” you protested. “Sure.”

“Come on,” he pats your shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.” He extracted your hands from his chest and rose to his feet. “Can you stand?” he asked, “Dunno..” you responded.

Jason sighed as he picked you up the couch, “Which room is yours?” he asked, looking down at you in his arms, “That one.” you pointed.

He pushed the door open with his bicep, and walked over to the bed and gently laid you down on the soft mattress. Once you were settled on the bed, Jason took a moment to remove your shoes, setting them down neatly on the floor.

Next, he took off your jacket, his fingers gently pulled the fabric and placed it on a chair beside the bed.

As he was about to pull the covers on you, you gripped his hand. “You said ya would stay tonight.” you reminded him. He sighed softly, “I said I would, didn’t I?” he reminded himself, “Right, scoot over.”

Jason settled himself on his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he got comfortable. From the corner of his eye, Jason could feel your gaze on him. He could practically hear the thoughts in your head, the questions you wanted to ask.

He didn’t look at you, simply laying there, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “What?” he asked, you didn’t answer instead you held his arm— quietly seeking for his touch.

He turned onto his side, facing you. Then he gently moved his arm, pulling you to him. He wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head against his chest. He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back attempting to make you fall asleep.

In the morning, you felt an annoying ache in your head. Your throat was dry and your body felt sore, as you sat up you noticed a hand pressing your waist down.

Baffled, you looked to the side and saw Jason sleeping in your bed.

“….?”

Your mind struggled to process the situation, your thoughts a muddled mess. You must still be dreaming, or perhaps you were still drunk—there was no way Jason was actually in bed with you.

Yet, as you stared at him, the reality of the situation became more and more clear. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his face relaxed in sleep. This was real. You were a bit frustrated, rubbing your head as you tried to remember everything.

Jason’s eyes slowly opened as he felt you stirring next to him.

He lifted his head to look at you, seeing the confusion and frustration on your face. “Mornin’,” he yawned. “J—Jason.” you called his name, “If I did something stupid. I’m sorry.” you nervously chuckled, feeling a bit of guilt.

He looks at you for a moment, "You don't remember anything from last night, do you?" he asked. “..No, was it bad?” you asked. "Depends on your definition of bad," he responds.

He sat up in the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you. "You were pretty drunk last night," he reminded you. “Oh, god. What did I do?”

He reached out and gently pats the back of your head “Settle down," he reassured you. "You didn’t do anything too crazy. You just had a bit too much to drink, that’s all."

"Do you want me to fill you in on what happened?"

“..would be nice, yeah.”

As he recalled the night, you flushed. Honestly, you wanted to jump off the window and never come back. You sighed as you buried your face in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

Jason reached out and gently pulled your hands away from your face. "Don’t be sorry," he said, "You didn’t do anything wrong. You just said what you felt, that’s all." He looked at you, his fingers still lightly wrapped around your wrists. "For the record, I thought it was sweet.” You scoffed, darting away from his gaze “Don’t say that.”

"And why not?” he questioned, “It’s true.”

"Do you really think I would reject you after you poured your heart out to me last night?" he huffs. “Huh?” you said, deadpanned.

He took a moment to choose his words carefully, his eyes locked on yours. "You want the truth?" he asked, his voice low but firm. He exhales, “Okay look, last night, when you said all that…” he said, "I was tempted to just brush it off.”

You nodded, “Yeah.” you muttered as you listened to him continue.

Jason continued, "But it’s just, you felt so real and I..." he trailed off for a moment, his thoughts churning behind his eyes. “It made me think... maybe I should be upfront too."

He paused for a bit, he was definitely not good with words. But this was for you, and he shouldn’t throw this opportunity.

“When you let me in your apartment while I was sitting injured on that snowy night… it was— I just couldn’t help but be infatuated. I hang around every night because.. you’re good company.” he confessed.

Your eyes soften, “Jason..” he then continues “I knew it was dangerous— for the both of us. To me, it was already dangerous that I was still visiting. But fuck, I just can’t help it because..” his eyes trail down.

“Because I think I'm falling for you,” he admitted. “And I hate it. It’s so damn stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t ignore the way I feel every time I land on your firescape and enter your window.”

He holds your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes. “In short, I love you. I want us.” You stared at him, stunned. You tried to find any trickery in his face, but there was none at all. “But— but what about you? You’re a vigilante, I’m just…”

"I know," he said, his voice rough. "And I know it's risky— for both of us. I can’t lead a double life, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you."

He sighed, his hands slipping down from your shoulders to take your hands in his own. "Look, I'm not good at this. I don't know how to do relationships, I'm not used to being open or whatever... But with you, it feels different. You make me want to try.”

“Are you.. are you sure?” you said as your hands slightly trembled in his grip.

“I’m sure,” he said firmly, his voice steady and unwavering. “I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but I know I want to try.” He lifted your hands, intertwining your fingers with his as he held them tightly. “You’re the only person that’s made me consider this,” he admits. “And I wouldn’t mind it.”

He takes a deep breath, saying his final words “I don’t care about the risks or the dangers right now. I just want you. If you’ll have me… I’m yours.”

You felt a lump in your throat as your heart beat out of your chest, “Okay.. okay, yes.”

Jason felt the tension in his chest ease as he heard your answer. "Okay," he repeated, "We're doing this, then." your eyes softened as you reached out for his cheek.

He reached up, gently taking your hand and holding it against his cheek. With your hand still against his cheek, he turned his head slightly, pressing a light kiss into your wrist.

“I love you.” you managed to crack out. He looked deeply into your eyes, “I love you too,” he said.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed back, feeling your lips against his. As Jason pulled back ever so slightly, you could see the uncertainty clear in his eyes.

He looked at you for a moment, as if silently asking for reassurance, for your comfort and acceptance. Your eyes soften, “Are you afraid?” you asked. Jason took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto yours. “Pretty much..” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I'm.. scared of fucking up.”

You let out a soft huff, “I‘m scared too but..” you reached out and placed your hands on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “But we’ll figure it out together,” you said, “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured, “Together. We’ll do it together.”

Overtime, Jason started to spend more nights at your place, no longer slipping out in the dead of night. The change was subtle at first, but he began to make your place more like his own. There were small signs of his presence— a jacket draped over a chair, a pair of extra gloves on the table, a stray strand of his dark hair left on the pillowcase.

Jason stumbled into your apartment well past midnight, looking haggard and tired after a long patrol. His suit was scuffed with dirt and small splatters of blood.

Yet, despite his exhaustion, there was a restless energy that seemed to hum beneath his skin. As he entered through the window, he saw you sleeping on the couch, phone laying on your chest.

You must’ve fallen asleep waiting for him again. He found it both touching yet frustrating, he didn’t want you to wait for him all the time— yet appreciated it.

He placed your phone on the coffee table and slowly scooped your frame in his arms, carrying you into your bedroom. He placed you carefully on the soft sheets and pulled the blanket over you before heading to the bathroom.

As Jason flicked on the bathroom light, the sudden brightness caused you to stir, your eyes creaking open and adjusting to the light. You groggily sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes as you tried to focus on the figure moving about inside the bathroom.

Through the crack in the door, you could see Jason in the bathroom, his reflection visible in the mirror. He was in the process of cleaning up, wiping away any dirt and blood from his patrol. The water in the sink was tinged crimson as he washed his hands, the evidence of his night's work disappearing down the drain.

After a few minutes, he emerges from the bathroom, his hair still with his new clothes. He stops in the doorway, his gaze falling on you. "You're up," he says, "Sorry If I woke you." You stretched and yawned, “It’s fine.” you replied as you placed your head on the pillows, your gaze never leaving his.

“You should go back to sleep,” he said gruffly, "You need rest."

“I’ll sleep if you sleep.” you said. Jason's lips quirked at your response, “You're not gonna let me win this, are you?" With that, he slid into the bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.

The bed creaked slightly as he settled in, his body relaxing as he lay next to you. You wrapped your around his neck as you shifted closer to him, “How was work?” He reached an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace, your bodies flush against each other.

He let out a deep exhale, "It was... rough," he replied, ”Long night, lots of trouble. Same as usual.”

You hummed at his response, you could tell there was something off. “I’m guessing something happened?” he hated how you could read him so well.

Jason's grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns on the bare skin of your hip. He was quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should share what was on his mind.

Finally, he sighed, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "It’s just, sometimes I get tired fighting.”

Your cheek rested on his hair as you listened, “How so?” you asked. "It’s like— it feels like it never ends," he murmured, his words muffled against your skin. "No matter how many bad guys I take down, there's always more.”

You hummed, “Well, the city will never change. But saving a life can still make a difference.”

Jason scoffs, “No it’s not.” he said, you could hear the irritation and frustration in his voice. He paused for a moment, his fingers still tracing patterns on your hip. "I risk my life every night, and for what? The city's just as messed up as it was the night before.”

“There's hope somehow, it's subtle but.. it’s there I guess.” you said. "Hope," Jason said, the word tasting bitter in his mouth.

He let out a heavy sigh, his body sagging a bit as the weight of his thoughts pressed down on him again. "It's just... hard to see it sometimes," he confessed, his voice gruff.

You pulled him closer in his chest, “I guess it does when you’ve seen too much.” Jason buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He mumbled against your skin, “Yeah.. I’ve seen a lot.”

You gently caressed his back, silently reassuring him. “You’re fine, at least for now.” you whispered. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his voice a soft murmur. “For now.”

The soft melody of the record player filled the room, as the two of you swayed on the floor and dim light from the lamps cast a cozy glow on the living room.

Jason held you close, his hand firmly on your waist while his other hand held your hand. His movements were steady as he led you in the slow dance. You were still a bit clumsy, having a hard time following his steps, “Are you sure I’m doing it right?” you furrowed your brows as your eyes drifted to his feet.

He gently squeezed the hand he was holding, pulling you a bit closer so you would look up at him. "You’re doing fine," he reassured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Just follow my lead."

You sighed, looking back up at him, “Don’t ever make me attend those Wayne galas or whatever..” he can’t help but lightly huff, "Don’t worry," he assured you, steering you around a twirl. "Wayne galas are the last place I’d want to take you."

You chuckled, “Why? Not fun for you?” Jason shrugged slightly, "Those events are all about showmanship and pretending. I’d rather stay here with you."

You tried to hold back a chuckle, “Wow, the Red Hood can say such sweet words.”

Jason could feel a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. He liked to keep a tough image (most of the time) but secretly he loved being able to show you his softer side.

He mumbled something under his breath, refusing to meet your gaze. “What’d you say?” you teased as you tilted your head.

"I said— nevermind," he grumbled, he tried to cover up his embarrassment by acting like he was irritated. The record player then comes to a halt, you turn your head to the player and back at him, “Fun’s over.”

"Looks like it," he replied, reluctantly letting go of your hand. "Guess we should call it a night then." you held his wrist, “Or.. we can stand here for a while.” you suggested as you leaned on his chest.

Jason's arms circled around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo.

"Or that," he murmured, "I could stay like this for a while." Jason tilted his head, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head. You hummed as you let him kiss your face.

To him, you made everything so easy to forget. When he’s with you, it just goes away.

“You know it’s like 4 in the morning.” you pointed out. Jason hummed in acknowledgment, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back. He didn’t care about the time at all.

"You're going to be tired tomorrow," he murmured, "And who's fault is that?" you retorted, poking his chest with your finger. He scoffs, rolling his eyes "Yeah, alright," he conceded, "You got me there."

🌊 my last post got a lot of attention, thank you! heres pt. 2 discord server

[draqu1a]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A SWEET CHALLENGE . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

The sink was a shit show. Towering stacks of plates, decorated with the ghostly remains of lasagna loomed cautiously. "Fuck," you muttered, eyeing the mess with genuine distaste.

Beside you, Chris chuckled. "Yeah, not exactly a masterpiece, is it?"

"Definitely not my masterpiece," you retorted, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "You were the one who insisted on making enough lasagna to feed a small army."

His face was shadowed with offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "Hey, I thought you enjoyed my cooking!"

"I do, I do," you conceded, "But I sure as hell don't enjoy cleaning up after it."

A silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken dread of words. Neither of you wanted to take care of the mountain of dishes.

"Alright," Chris said, a glint in his eye. "I have an idea."

"Oh, I'm scared," you replied, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. His ideas were usually… interesting.

He made his way over to the local cupboard and returned, flashing around a simple KitKat bar. "Whoever pulls away first does the dishes."

You raised an eyebrow. "Pulls away from what? A staring contest? you know I'd crush you in a staring contest."

He grinned, the mischievous light intensifying. "Not a staring contest, sweetheart. This." He unwrapped the KitKat, the noisy foil echoing in the sudden quiet. "We both take one end. First one to pull away does the dishes."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he said, holding the chocolate bar out to you. "Unless you're scared?"

"Scared? Please. I'm gonna make you wear dish gloves for a week. This is my territory, baby."

You took the other end of the KitKat, the chocolate cool against your finger tips. The air suddenly felt charged, buzzing with anticipation. You met Chris’s gaze, a playful challenge dancing in his eyes. You mirrored it with a smirk of your own.

"Ready?" he whispered, his voice suddenly husky.

"Born ready," you breathed back.

Slowly, deliberately, you both started eating at the chocolate. The silence was thick, broken only by the faint crunch of chocolate. Your eyes stayed locked on his, a silent battle of wills.

The KitKat became shorter, the distance between your faces shrinking with each bite. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the subtle scent of his cologne filling your senses.

The pressure was constantly going up. Your heart pounded against your ribs. You could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved slightly in a teasing smile.

You were both so close now, the anticipation almost unbearable.

One bite. That was all it took. The last sliver of chocolate disappeared while your lips brushed against his. A jolt of electricity shot through you. You held your breath, savoring the moment.

He tasted like chocolate and something else... something indescribably Chris.

The brush of lips became a lingering kiss. Soft, tender at first, then deepening with a sudden urgency. You completely loosened your hold on the wrapper, letting it flutter to the floor. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.The kitchen faded away. The lasagna-encrusted plates started to not exist in your minds.

There was only you and Chris, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment. His kisses grew bolder, more demanding, and you responded generously, meeting his passion with your own.

His hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your hips. A shiver ran down your spine. You pulled away slightly, gasping for air. His eyes were dark, glazed with desire.

"Damn," he breathed, his voice raw. "I forgot what we were even doing for a minute."

You chuckled, it being a breathless, shaky sound. "Me too." You glanced around the kitchen, your eyes landing on the towering stack of dirty dishes. "So… about those dishes?"

He grinned, a slow and lazy curve of his lips. "Fuck the dishes." He pulled you back into his arms, his lips finding yours again. "They can wait."

And they did wait. You didn't do the dishes that night nor the next. The battle of wills had dissolved into a delicious, intoxicating truce. The dishes remained, a silent testament to the KitKat challenge, the steamy makeout session and the undeniable fact that sometimes, forgetting your responsibilities was the best decision you could make. Especially when it involved Chris. And chocolate.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : got inspired by a rando reel, actually like this idea a lot .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @sageshollow @sturnsc . . .

[kiszjuli]

LOVE BET .ᐟ

✸ bestfriend!jisung x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c. 2.5k | ♡

↳ synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

↳playlist. love - keyshia cole. lucky girl - red velvet. affection - between friends. like we just met - nct dream. better than gold - nct dream. off my face - justin bieber.

it was currently february 1st, meaning all of the bright pink and red decorations were already decorated around your campus. you found yourself in the, abnormally loud and chaotic cafeteria, you were waiting at your designated seats for your best friend, jisung, and as you waited you looked around. Glancing from the pink flyers to the red heart shaped balloons, and everything else in between. jisung plopped down with a sigh in front of you. "it looks like cupid threw up in here," you muttered, opening your pack of cookies. jisung's lips quirked up into a boyish grin as he settled in his seat. "what, jelous of all the love in the air?"

"it's not that," you said offering him a cookie, which he gladly took. "it's just...valentine's day is so overrated. why spend one single day to prove your love when you could just like─not suck the rest of the year?"

laughing, jisung spoke again. "god, you're such a romantic, no wonder you're still single," rolling your eyes you glare at him. "you're one to talk. when was the last time you tried to talk to someone you like?"

jisung's face flushed a little. "hey, i talk to people!"

"not what i asked," you say flatly, then lean across the table. "name one person you've flirted with in...the past year," you say thinking for a second.

as if really trying to think, he furrows his brows and looks at the table. "exactly," you laugh. "alright, how about you then? i don't remember hearing about you having a valentine," he raised a brow, challenging you back and sitting up in his seat.

your confidence wavered a little, but didn't let it show, "oh please, i could get asked out if i wanted to,"

"oh yeah? could you?"

you reached for a fry on your tray and threw it at him. he tried to block the fry, it falling to his lap as he laughed at you. "i'm just saying," he shrugged. "all this big talk, yet you're in the same boat as me,"

a smirk spreads across your face, as you get an idea. "fine, you know what? how about, whoever doesn't get themselves a valentine, has to buy the other dinner at our favorite restaurant. deal?"

this time it was jisung’s turn to falter a little. “are you seriously betting on this?”

you shrugged. “why not? scared of losing?” you teased.

those words were all it took for his competitive side to kick and and he straighted up once again. “fine. you’re on.” he reached out his his hand and you took it firmly. “prepare to lose park jisung,” you smiled your gaze locked on his. “i’m about to eat so much pasta,”

he smirked, his hand lingering in yours for a second longer than necessary. “we’ll see about that.”

little did the both of you know, that stupid little bet was about to change everything.

—

it’s a quiet afternoon, after school. you and jisung were hanging out at your favorite café. the place was a little busy with people, but you are just enjoying the usual, comfortable silence. that is, until a guy from one of your classes walks in. you notice him immediately. he was a generally friendly guy, always talking to everyone. he notices you and walks over to your table.

“hey!” he says, making his way over. “what’s up? haven’t seen you around lately.”

you stand to greet him, talking easily as you always do. you’re genuinely enjoying the conversation. he was funny, charming, and always has something interesting to say—never really an awkward pause. you laugh at a joke he tells, and just for a second, you forget jisung is even there.

jisung, however, hasn’t missed a thing.

he watches from his seat, his grip on his cup tightening just slightly. the way you and the guy are laughing, how easily you two got along. it was too comfortable. jisung tries to focus on his phone, but his eyes keep flicking back to you. there’s something in the way the guy looks at you, a little too interested, and jisung feels a pang in his chest. trying to brush it off, he settles with the fact that it’s because you might be winning the bet; for now.

jisung was trying to focus on his phone, scrolling through something meaningless, but the smile on your face. the way you leaned in a little closer to the guy as you talked. it was starting to bother him more than he’d like to admit. it’s dumb, he knows it’s dumb, but he can’t help the flicker of frustration in his stomach. you’re supposed to be just friends. but suddenly, the idea of someone else being interested in you feels… wrong.

he feels like he can ignore him and focus on his phone until the guy laughs again—louder this time, with a hand on your shoulder. he feels his blood start to simmer.

“so, uh, i was thinking about going to see a movie this weekend. wanna go?” the guy asks, his tone light, like it’s no big deal.

you smile, looking a little surprised. “oh, uh, sure! sounds fun.”

jisung’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles almost turning white. the guy’s eyes flicker over to him, then back to you, and jisung doesn’t miss the way the guy raises an eyebrow, sizing him up. it’s a subtle look, but it makes jisung’s jaw clench. he new what the guy was doing, and so did he.

the guy turns to leave, his attention shifting away from you, but before he walks off, he looks back one last time. “see you later, yeah?”

“yeah, definitely!” you call after him, still smiling.

as soon as the guy walks away, jisung can’t hold it in anymore. he stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor louder than usual. “i’m gonna get some air,” he mutters, as he begins to step away.

you glance at him, a little startled. “wha-? jisung, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, brushing you off. “nothing. just need some air.”

before you can say anything else, he’s walking out of the café, leaving you behind. you stare after him, confused and a little concerned. what was that about?

you sigh and lean back in your chair, a little unsure of what just happened. you know jisung, and you know that wasn’t just about needing air. you weren’t even doing anything to provoke him. but something about the way he left makes you feel like maybe he’s… bothered.

you pull your phone out, sending him a quick message:

hey, u good?

a few moments later, he replies.

yeah, i’m fine,

but you can tell something’s off. you don’t press him right now, but the conversation with the guy you just had lingers in your mind. was it just your imagination, or did jisung seem…jealous?

—

the following day, you seem to ironically have a similar experience.

you walk into the library after second period, expecting to find jisung buried in his usual corner, headphones in and his nose buried in a textbook. but instead, you stop in your tracks when you see him sitting at a table with a girl from your class, one you’ve seen around but don’t really know. she’s leaning over his shoulder, pointing at a page in her notebook, and jisung is explaining something, his hand moving across the page to help her with the assignment.

hesitating for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, something in your chest tightens when you see how naturally they’re talking, how comfortable she looks in his presence. she was pretty close to him, her shoulder brushing his as she leans in. it feels like your heart sinks a little, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

the way jisung is smiling, the way he’s so focused on her… it’s the same way he looked when he helped you with schoolwork, but this time, it’s different. this time, there’s something more, something you hadn’t expected. the sight stings, even though you know it shouldn’t. it’s not like you have any claim over him, and he’s probably just being a good friend, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach won’t go away.

you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do. a small part of you wants to walk away, pretend you didn’t see it, but another part of you, feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. you had no idea why.

just like jisung had felt the day before when you laughed with that guy at the café, you feel that same pang of jealousy now. and it’s so much more than you were expecting. maybe you understood his reaction a little more now.

after what feels like an eternity, you turn around and walk out of the library before you can let any of those feelings show. you tell yourself it’s ridiculous, that you have no reason to feel this way, but the image of jisung laughing with her sticks in your mind, making it impossible to shake the feeling.

—

it was now valentine’s day, and when you got the text from jisung asking to come over and talk, you assume it’s about the bet. about how he didn’t find the valentine he kept claiming he find. and you would tell him the same, that you were both valentine-less. you figured you’d laugh about it and go about your days. everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t have to see him around talking to other girls and feeling that awful sting in the pit of your stomach.

but as he arrives to your place, the look on his face making you nervous. he sits on your couch and you follow him, cradling your legs to yourself as you sat.

the soft hum of the city outside the window barely audible as you sit together in the living room. despite the seemingly comfortable silence between you two, there’s something else in the air—a tension neither of you has been able to shake for days.

jisung’s, hands fidget in his lap, his eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something, trying to find the right words. you could tell he’s been holding something back, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the way he keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to speak what’s been on his mind for so long.

“hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence, “is everything okay?”

he glances at you, but his gaze is distant—like he’s caught between saying something and not saying anything at all. you wait for him to respond, the anticipation weighing heavily in the room.

“i’ve been thinking a lot,” he begins, his voice quieter than usual, which spikes your curiosity. he exhales slowly. “about everything… with the bet, with us. and i’ve realized something. something i think i’ve been running from for a really long time.”

you sit up a little, your heart beating faster as you focus entirely on him. his tone was serious, the vulnerability in his voice making your chest tighten with both concern and curiosity.

“i’ve been… avoiding it,” jisung continues, his words coming out in a rush. “for years. i kept telling myself it wasn’t anything. that we were just friends. that it didn’t mean anything. but the truth is, i’ve been denying it for so long because I was scared... of what would happen if i admitted it. if i admitted that i’ve felt something more for you than just… friendship.”

your breath nearly catches in your throat. the words are unexpected, and yet, they make your heart race. you swallow, unsure of what to say, but jisung keeps going.

“i thought if i ignored it long enough, it would go away,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours now, raw and open. “but it never did. and i realized that i couldn’t keep pretending. i couldn’t keep pretending that i didn’t feel something for you. i don’t want to see you with anyone else. i don’t want to watch you go out with someone and not be the one standing next to you.” his lock onto yours.

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you’re not sure whether to be shocked or relieved that he’s finally saying this. all the years of hints, all the quiet moments between you two, all of it makes sense now.

“i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too afraid,” he confesses, his voice breaking slightly. “i that it would ruin everything. that maybe you wouldn’t feel the same way, or worse—that it would destroy our friendship. but i can’t keep denying it. i’m… in love with you, y/n. and have been for so long, and i can’t pretend i’m okay with the idea of you being with anyone else.”

for a moment, you’re speechless, processing the weight of his words. years of feelings, years of quiet longing—suddenly all of it is out in the open, and it feels both overwhelming and relieving at the same time.

you swallow, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him. “jisung… i never wanted anyone else. i don’t think i ever did. i’ve been scared too. scared of ruining what we had, scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. but… i feel the same way.”

his eyes widen at your confession, and something in him shifts. like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. his shoulders slump, a sense of relief settling over him.

“really?” he asks, as if he can’t believe you’re saying it too.

you nod, voice steadier now. “i never wanted to go out with anyone else. but i was too scared to risk what we had. i didn’t know how to tell you i… felt the same. i wanted to be with you, but i couldn’t say it.”

jisung ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he’s held too long. his expression softens, and he moves closer, hand gently touching yours, hesitant but tender.

“so… we’re both idiots then, huh?” he says with a nervous laugh, the humor light but relieved. “all this time… and we were both too scared to admit it.”

you laugh, the tension breaking. “yeah. but i think we’re finally getting it right.”

his smile is genuine, the softest you’ve ever seen. “so…will you be my valentine?”

you squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “well… only because i don’t have anyone else that asked,” and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you take me out on a real date. not because of a stupid bet, but because i want to be with you.”

his eyes light up and he chuckles at your words. he smiles softly, cheeks a little rosy. “that sounds perfect.”

and just like that, all the hesitation, all the silent feelings, fade away. you’re both free from the weight of denial, starting something new. together.

and in your book, you still won’t the bet. you knew you weren’t gonna pay for the dinner from the start, and you were right. you also got the best valentine, and soon boyfriend, anyone scouts ever ask for.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

(i’m sorry this one’s a little late you guys)