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thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!

Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie.

A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you.

He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.

For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.

So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.

He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.

You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score.

You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.

Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind.

The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.

Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.

“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.

“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”

The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man.

Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”

Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face.

Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.

You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.

It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.

Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently.

Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth.

He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting.

Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.

“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink.

He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense.

You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”

The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”

Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.

He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”

You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight.

But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.

And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end.

You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.

Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed.

You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.

The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.

“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going.

Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.

Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”

So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.

You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace.

Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.

You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.

His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”

You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”

It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.

Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?

The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.

“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”

“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?

“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”

The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.”

Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”

Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on.

Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”

The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.

What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”

Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.

“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”

His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”

“Not that,” he says curtly.

“Then what?” you push him for the answer.

Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist? He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it.

The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”

The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going.

Why can’t you tell him to stop?

“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.

“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”

Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.

A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.

“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.

His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”

The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right? You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.

“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.

“Slag,” he responds.

A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?

You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires.

His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them.

There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze.

Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.

You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction.

Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.

Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.

That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.

“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.

He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.

Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning.

“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”

The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.

Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask.

You’re in his room.

“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.

Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.

You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.

Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.

That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.

Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively.

The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.

You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.

“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact.

“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head.

“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”

You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be.

Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.

The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.

His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention.

Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”

Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.

And he is going to make sure it sticks.

It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”

Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”

Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.

His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?”

Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.

There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion.

His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder.

The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.

“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”

Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close.

“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”

The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment.

Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.

Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.

Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.

You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you.

Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.

He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”

Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”

You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair.

“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”

Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.

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yannawayne · 2 months

Text

vi. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

NOTE: THIS IS PART 6. I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS TODAY! PART 5 IS HERE

 ༻⊰───⋅

"No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 8:35 AM - Gotham Academy, Gotham City.

The halls of Gotham Academy buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter—a total disconnect from the storm of nerves brewing inside you. You zigzagged through the crowd, your trusty, battle-worn Converse scuffing against the linoleum. Damian’s varsity jacket hung over your uniform, the hood pulled low to hide the cuts on your face.

Morgan had ditched you at the entrance, probably off to plot some mad science in the labs. Not exactly your idea of fun, so you opted for aimless wandering instead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God. And I'd get Him to swap our places. Be runnin' up that road. Be runnin' up that hill Be runnin' up that building.

Your headphones were snug, the music offering a temporary refuge as you walked, your head instinctively nodding to the beat. Even with the volume cranked up, you couldn’t shake the awareness of every shift in the crowd, the way the jacket rubbed against your sore muscles, or the stiffness in your back and arm from the muscle tear. Concerned whispers drifted past you, catching on the currents of passing conversations, but you kept moving, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the song.

When you reached Damian’s locker, you leaned against it, letting the cool metal soothe your aching back. You adjusted the hood of his jacket, tugging it further down to hide the cuts around your face. With your free hand, you quickly typed out a message to Damian, your fingers flying over the screen, each tap a small burst of nervous energy.

You:

"At your locker."

You hit send, slipped your phone back into your pocket, then immediately pulled it out again. This time, you opened Twitter, your thumb instinctively scrolling through your feed for any updates on the recent incident.

Tweets about the attack were already trending, paired with blurry photos and clickbait headlines. You cringed as fan accounts for #Nightcrawler started flooding in. It was wild how fast the public’s attention could flip from genuine concern to a full-blown obsession with the latest hero—or villain.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders building as you scrolled through the flood of posts.

“Beloved?”

A tanned hand brushed gently against your arm, followed by the sight of polished brown dress shoes stepping into view.

“Dami,” you murmured with a relieved smile, leaning into his hold, your head still bowed.

Damian instinctively pulled you into a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. The embrace was firm but careful, as if he feared you might break under too much pressure. He could feel the stiffness in your muscles, your body wound tight with unspoken tension. His eyes narrowed with concern, but he stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for both of you.

His gaze flicked to your phone screen, catching sight of the trending tweets.

“Nightcrawler…” Damian murmured, and you lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Sighing, you shifted so your cheek rested against his chest, the cool scent of his cologne grounding you. You kept scrolling, clicking on a particularly cringeworthy tweet and wincing at the fanatical comments.

“Can you believe these people?” you murmured, frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s insane.”

Sometimes you wondered how Damian and his brothers dealt with all the fanatics, the constant drooling over their hero personas—or even their civilian lives.

Damian’s grip tightened as he held you closer, his brow furrowing in disapproval as he read the tweets over your shoulder.

Repulsive. To him, it was a grotesque spectacle. The media had managed to paint the Spider into a celebrated hero, a figure of admiration, when in reality, the person behind that mask was nothing more than a monster, cloaked in deception and false heroism.

“They’re utterly obsessed,” Damian scoffed. “It’s as if they’ve completely forgotten there’s a real person behind that mask.”

“I know, right?” You sighed, closing Twitter and slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Like, I really don’t want to see those posts. They’re just—so much.”

Damian noticed your distress and instinctively started rubbing soothing circles on your back. But as his hand moved, a sharp muscle spasm seized your shoulder. You cursed, a wince escaping you as the sensation left you momentarily frozen. It felt as if someone had taken a wrench to your shoulder, yanking and twisting until every fiber protested in sharp, jarring bursts.

Damian’s hand froze.

Muscle tear. He realized.

Without a word, he guided you gently into a nearby janitor’s closet. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of the bustling hallway and granting you both some much-needed privacy.

Inside, he carefully placed his hand on your elbow and began to stretch the affected muscle. You winced as a sharp twinge of pain flared, but Damian’s voice was soft and soothing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, offering a small but comforting distraction from the pain.

Gradually, the pain eased, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your shoulders relaxed, the tight knots unwinding.

"I love you and your weird Robin skills," you said with a grateful smile, rolling your shoulders and feeling the tension dissipate.

Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, approving smile, though his voice remained gruff. “Love you too.”

He continued to watch you with a keen, sharp gaze, noticing the hood of your hoodie pulled up. His eyes traced the shadowy outline of your face, and he realized he hadn’t seen it clearly. His expression shifted to one of concern, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why haven’t you taken your hood down?” he asked quietly, his voice low and probing.

You pursed your lips, trying to edge toward the exit. But before you could make a clean getaway, Damian’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and yanking you back into him. You collided with his chest, and for a second, it felt like you’d just hugged a brick wall in a hoodie.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, nowhere, apparently,” you sighed, realizing escape wasn’t in the cards today.

“Look. I just didn’t want to get my hair messed up,” you continued, trying to sound casual, but the words felt hollow in the small, enclosed space.

“Oh yeah…?” Damian murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with something darker. His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he bent down to your height, his rough fingers sliding up your jacket. You felt the fabric shift and the warmth of his hand against your side.

You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders. Your nails dug into the fabric of his uniform as you tried to push him back.

“Pull the hood off,” he demanded, his hands working insistently to tug it up. You sputtered out protests, swatting at his hands, but Damian was relentless. “Habibti, let me see! Pull it up—let me see!”

Your grip on the hood tightened, your knuckles going white as you held on for dear life. But Damian’s concern bulldozed through any resistance you put up. He mumbled curses, and suddenly shifted tactics. Bending down, his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as your weight pressed into his hips.

"Damian, stop!" you groaned, trying to push him away.

But he ignored your plea, yanking the hood off. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the full extent of your injuries. Cuts and bandages marred your face, some fresh, others scabbing over. Dark bruises colored your cheek, spreading out like ominous clouds.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, even though he was already cursing a certain spider vigilante in his head. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you. “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Baby, you’re being melodramatic. It’s just a few bruises,” you deflected, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll survive.”

“Plus, it’s not like you can just go around punching everyone who hurts me,” you huffed, wincing as you tried to pull your hood back up. Damian scowled and yanked it down again.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to stifle a smile. “I hate you so much.”

Damian tightened his hold, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Our relationship status says otherwise. And I’m not letting go until I get answers.”

You squirmed in his embrace, attempting to free yourself, but he held you tightly. “Seriously, let go.”

“No.”

“You’re going to miss your first period.”

“And?”

“Your education will be in ruins.”

“Beloved, my GPA is already at a 5.0. I’ve been at the top of my class since junior high. Missing one period won’t ruin my future.”

You groaned and grabbed the nearest object—a mop. Raising it in a mock-threatening manner, you declared, “I’m seriously considering hitting you with this until you let me go.”

Damian gave a flat “Tch,” raising a hand to the metal handle. With a casual squeeze, he bent the metal in half effortlessly. You blinked.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super, super hot.

“Seriously? You’re showing off now?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Showing off?” Damian arched an eyebrow. “I’m merely proving a point.”

“I can handle myself!” you insisted, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Clearly,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over.

“I would be delighted to,” Damian replied, his tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that was equal parts enticing and infuriating.

"Ugh!" you groaned, pulling the hood back over your face in a futile attempt to hide.

“Drop the theatrics and tell me what happened,” he sighed, tugging the hood back down. “I need to know so I can handle it.”

“I already handled it! I just need some rest, okay?” you retorted, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. "I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

Damian’s jaw tightened at your response, setting off alarm bells in his head. He’d need to dig deeper—because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that you weren’t giving him the full story.

"You're not telling me everything," he said firmly. "But I’ll find out. I always do."

“Uh-huh, sure," you said, rolling your eyes as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and yanked him closer. “You’re such a control freak, you know that?”

Damian scowled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “And you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, you’re nosy.”

“Nosy?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “I prefer the term thorough.”

“Right,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. You shook your head with a smile and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

Damian’s eyes softened as he closed the distance between you. You melted into him, pulling him into a tender kiss. Damian hummed softly, the vibration tickling your lips and adding a cozy warmth to the moment. He kissed you again, and again, each one a little more affectionate than the last. Your laughter bubbled up, breathy and light, as you both got caught in a playful rhythm. His nose nudged against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

The sudden ringing of the school bell cut through the moment.

“Mmph!” You pulled back slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as you gently stroked his cheek. “You… probably should get to class.”

It took a few more (okay, a lot more) minutes before Damian finally let you go. You practically had to wrestle your way out of his arms, like he was a kid clinging to a favorite toy. When you told him to go back to class instead of tagging along with you and Morgan, he sulked like a toddler.

Despite his stormy mood, you managed to convince him to head back. As you both stepped out of the closet, Damian trudged away with a grumble, throwing one last dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” you laughed, waving him away before setting off to find Morgan.

When you finally spotted her by the entrance, she was holding up a flash drive like it was the Holy Grail. Meanwhile, you looked like you’d just been through a whirlwind: your hair was a tousled mess, your jacket was askew, and your tie was twisted at an odd angle.

“Got the goods?” you asked, breathless as you straightened your tie and smoothed down your messy hair.

“Yep,” Morgan said with a grin, her eyes darting to your state of disarray. “Damn. A janitor’s closet, huh? I see it got pretty heated in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, scoffing and giving her a kick to the shin. “Nothing happened, you ass. We were just talking. I had to practically wrestle my way out because he was going nuts over my injuries.”

Morgan chuckled, tucking the flash drive into her pocket. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. "How did you know it was the janitor’s closet, anyway?"

“CCTV,” Morgan simply shrugged. “Was checking out the live feed for security. And I figured you two were up to something when I saw you both ducking out of the room. The system was laughably easy to hack into. I was honestly surprised.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” you snarked. “Anything less than government-level encryption is basically child’s play for you.”

Morgan grinned. “True that. But there’s one tiny issue.” She raised a finger and twirled it in the air. “I might have tripped a few alarms.”

WEE-OWW-WEE-OWW!

The distant blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the windows.

You stared at Morgan, incredulous.

“What. What the fuck!? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say security’s gonna be a bit more interested in our location now. Oopsie!” Morgan’s grin widened. “I had to shut down some things to avoid detection. So, the power’s going to go out in 3…2…1.”

As she finished her countdown, the lights flickered erratically before plunging the hallway into complete darkness. A heartbeat later, the wail of the announcement system cut through the silence, urgently repeating, “Please evacuate the building. Please evacuate immediately.” The strobing red emergency lights cast frantic shadows, and chaos erupted as students screamed, darting from classrooms and colliding in the dark.

Morgan spread her arms wide, a triumphant grin plastered across her face as if she’d just dropped a mic. “Boom.”

“What the hell about this screams ‘stealth’ to you?” you whisper-shouted, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her toward the exit.

Morgan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she squeezed your hand in return. "It’s way more fun this way."

You both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing through the hallways and mingling with the blaring alarms.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a group of students stumbling through the chaos. Their faces were masks of panic. One of them tripped, sprawling onto the floor with an undignified thud.

“Watch it! Are you okay?” you shouted, skidding to a halt and kneeling to help the fallen student.

Morgan, unable to hold back, burst into laughter. “Dumbasses!”

You shot her a half-angry, half-exasperated look. “Just get us out of here before we get arrested for public disturbance!”

“Right behind you!” Morgan said, grabbing your hand again and pulling you both into a sprint. As you neared the exit, the muffled voices of security personnel grew louder, rushing to restore power. With one last burst of speed, you burst through the exit doors, the alarms fading into the distance.

Morgan looked over at you, her face glowing with sweat and a victorious grin. “And that’s how you make an exit.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

After your adrenaline-pumping escape and a bumpy ride across the city in an Uber that looked like it had seen better days—note to self: next time, cab— you finally made it back to the safehouse.

Morgan was already at the main table, surrounded by a chaotic sea of files and documents spread out across multiple screens. Her eyes were locked onto the flash drive she’d pulled from the school, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sifted through the data.

A few steps away, you were hunched over a cluttered workbench in the tech area, surrounded by spools of web fluid and a mess of metal tools. The entire day had been spent tinkering, but finally, your whip project was coming together.

With a few final tweaks, you picked up the whip and gave it a few test swings.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were a kid, watching Selina work her whip with that effortless skill. You’d sit in the corner of the training room, eyes wide, totally mesmerized. She made it look so easy, so natural. Inspired, you’d sneak off to your room after her sessions, grabbing whatever you could find—a belt, a rope, anything that even remotely resembled a whip. You’d slam the door behind you and practice in secret.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—awkward, stumbling, and kind of a hot mess—but you didn’t give a damn. You’d keep at it, again and again, dead set on matching her skill, even if it meant looking like a total idiot in the process.

CRACK!

Morgan jumped, her chair spinning around as she stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't help but grin as you sauntered toward her, twirling the whip around your body. The webbing swirled through the air, curving gracefully around you in a move straight out of Catwoman's playbook. With a final flourish, you cracked it down onto the floor, the sharp snap echoing through the room.

Morgan’s ears flushed red, and she shifted in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Woah. That’s hot as fuck.”

You laughed, tossing her a wink. “Glad you think so. I was channeling my inner Catwoman.”

Still a bit flustered, Morgan cleared her throat and extended her hand. You placed the whip into her palm, and she inspected it closely, her fingers tracing the intricate details of your craftsmanship.

“Seriously, though,” she said, looking up at you, “Where’d you learn to handle a whip like that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just a little bit of practice, you know? I’ve had some pretty good teachers.”

Your gaze then shifted to her screen, where a file on Ivy's toxins was open. Charts, chemical structures, and old lab notes cluttered the display.

“Thought you were going through Octavius’ files?” you asked.

“Oh, I was," Morgan handed the whip back to you with a shrug.

"But then I stumbled on this.” She pointed at the screen. “Insane, right? Did you know Gotham University lets their Botany majors examine Ivy’s toxins? There are detailed reports from student lab projects—college students analyzing some seriously dangerous stuff. Who thinks that's a good idea?”

You arched an eyebrow. “It’s Gotham University. Top in the country. They probably consider it a rite of passage. It’s not like the city holds back on the bizarre.”

Morgan shook her head, her disbelief morphing into a bemused smile. “Seriously, though, it’s even in their chemistry curriculum. ‘Advanced Chemistry: How to Survive Ivy’s Toxins 101.’ Like, what kind of class is that?”

You chuckled. “Sounds like standard Gotham fare. The city has a way of turning even the most mundane academic subjects into survival skills.”

As you stared at the file, your mind drifted to Ivy—Pamela Isley, who had once been a big part of your life. Back when she was close with Selina, you even used to call her Aunt Isley. It felt right at the time, natural, given how much she was around.

One memory stood out: Ivy had to leave town, and she’d entrusted Selina with her beloved plants. You were just a kid, but you remember how excited you were to have Ivy’s vibrant greenery filling the place. Selina had promised to take good care of them, but… she forgot. Just plain forgot to water them.

When Ivy returned, the plants were withered and dead. For someone like Ivy—an eco-terrorist with a green thumb so legendary she could probably make a cactus bloom in a snowstorm—this was more than just a mistake. It felt like a betrayal.

The fallout was brutal. Ivy was livid, and Selina was wrecked. If you hadn’t been there to calm things down, Ivy might’ve strangled Selina with a vine on the spot.

Morgan sighed dramatically, pushing her chair back from the screen and stretching like a cat. "I’m so over these files," she announced, spinning around to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We need to do something fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued as she started navigating through a map on her command center. "What are you up to?"

"Finding us a little adventure," she replied, her grin widening as she zoomed in on a spot on the outskirts of Gotham. "Look at this—an old, supposedly abandoned greenhouse. Rumor has it, it’s still full of Ivy’s plants. We should go check it out."

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You want to go trespassing in an abandoned greenhouse filled with potentially dangerous plants?"

Morgan shrugged with a carefree grin. "Why not? It’s way more exciting than sitting here with these boring files. Besides, think of the intel we could gather! Maybe even some samples. If you're serious about this hero thing, having some cures on hand could be pretty useful."

You raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, my focus was on tech companies. Not plants."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, throwing her hands up. "C'mon, it’ll be fun! We could call it a ‘field trip’ for our mission."

You scoffed, but a smirk tugged at your lips as you grabbed your glasses. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart and responsible one among the two of us?”

Morgan shot you a playful smile as she grabbed her jacket. “Smart enough to know when we need a break.”

She slung her jacket over her shoulder with a casual flick. “And who knows? We might stumble into something interesting or at least have a hell of a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, but if this turns into a mess, you’re the one explaining it to Tony.”

“Deal,” Morgan grinned, heading toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 12:34 AM - Ivy's 'Abandoned' Warehouse, Gotham City.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown landscape as you swung through the rainy Gotham air. Raindrops pattered against your suit, mixing with the cool breeze as you guided both yourself and Morgan down toward the warehouse’s perimeter. You landed softly on the other side of the fence, the wet ground beneath you squelching slightly.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in shadows and engulfed by a thick veil of greenery. Vines and creeping plants had swallowed the building, twisting their way up the walls and breaking through the broken windows. Shrubs and wild foliage sprawled across the once-smooth concrete, creating a tangled jungle that had overtaken the area.

You and Morgan navigated through the thick underbrush, your footsteps muffled by the lush carpet of foliage.

“Welcome to the jungle,” Morgan whispered, adjusting her glasses as raindrops collected on the lenses. She reached for a flashlight, flicking it on to cut through the gloomy darkness.

“Did you really have to pick the creepiest spot in Gotham?” you muttered, glancing around warily. Your spider senses buzzed faintly, a low hum that told you to stay alert, though you weren’t entirely sure what you should be on the lookout for.

As you approached the warehouse’s entrance, you noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar, propped open by a stubborn vine wedged in the gap. You took a few steps back, then charged at the door with all your might. It crashed inward with a resounding clang, sending splinters flying and the vine recoiling.

CLANG!

You kicked the door aside and stepped into a scene that looked like something straight out of a botanical horror movie. The interior of the warehouse was a riot of green. Hanging plants and tendrils formed a dense canopy overhead. The remnants of old plant pots and scientific equipment were half-buried under layers of creeping vines and moss.

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything useful,” you said, stepping inside.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the location, gather as much information as possible, and leave before anyone even noticed you were there.

Your boots squelched slightly on the damp ground as you made your way further into the labyrinth of greenery. Morgan followed close behind, her flashlight beam scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like she really made herself at home. Can’t believe she’d leave all these beauties behind,” she murmured.

After a few minutes of searching, you stumbled upon a makeshift lab tucked away in a corner of the warehouse. Old tables and shelves, now covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, held an assortment of glassware, old notebooks, and strange samples.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as she approached the lab. “This must be it! Look at all this stuff.”

Kneeling down, she began sifting through the clutter, her flashlight revealing dusty glassware, faded notebooks, and a variety of botanical samples in various states of preservation. She carefully picked up a few jars, examining the contents with growing fascination.

You stood guard by the door, senses on high alert. The slow hum of your spider senses gradually intensified, morphing into a persistent, almost blaring buzz in the back of your mind. It felt like a magnetic pull, drawing your focus to every flicker of shadow and rustle of the unseen.

Morgan, oblivious to your heightened alertness, was engrossed in a particularly worn notebook.

"This is so fucking cool," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Check out these notes—they look like they’re from Ivy’s earlier research. She was experimenting with ways to boost plant growth, mixing toxins, and even concocting some kind of antidote."

As Morgan continued to study the notebook, the buzzing in your senses grew stronger. You tensed, feeling a prickling chill race up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There was something else in the warehouse—something you couldn’t immediately identify, but it was there.

“Morgan,” you said quietly. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Morgan looked up from her work, fingers curled around a test tube. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep your eyes open,” you warned, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. “Start packing up and be quick. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Morgan’s fingers flew over the lab equipment as she grabbed several samples and shoved them into her bag. The air seemed to grow thicker, the plants rustling with an almost eerie liveliness.

!!!

“We need to go. Now!” you hissed, urgently grabbing Morgan and pulling her to her feet.

Morgan flinched but scrambled up, stuffing the worn notebook she’d found into her jacket. “Alright… let me just—”

Before she could finish, your spider senses exploded into a full-blown scream of warning.

DANGER.

“Get down!”

Without warning, you grabbed Morgan and pushed her down behind some crates, your suit beginning to uncloak.

A thick vine lashed out from the shadows, slamming into your side with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Pain exploded where the vine struck, radiating through your ribs as you skidded backward and crashed into a metal rack.

Your helmet hadn’t fully materialized in time, and the impact with the shelving unit sent a jarring shock through your skull, leaving you dazed and disoriented.

"A little spider has wandered into my web~"

Shit.

Warmth trickled down from your forehead where the impact had split the skin. With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the rack, using it for support as you steadied yourself.

"Hello, crazy plant lady," you quipped, your helmet materializing as the voice modulator kicked in.

You weren’t her estranged niece now; you were Nightcrawler, Gotham's latest hero.

From above, Ivy unfurled herself from the ceiling, smirking as she lounged on a sprawling leaf. Vines curled around her with languid grace, reacting to her slightest gesture as if extensions of her will.

"Ah, Gotham's newest little hero," Ivy's voice was a melodious yet chilling purr, her laughter echoing softly through the warehouse. "What brings you to my sanctuary?"

The slits in your mask narrowed as you drew your claws and unclipped your whip from your belt. Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the choice of weapons, a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She was clearly connecting the similarities between you and Catwoman.

"Oh, just swinging by to see what all the fuss is about. Heard you've been busy in Gotham."

Ivy's smile sharpened, a glint of admiration lighting up her emerald eyes.

"Hm. Spunk," she purred, hands moving to tangle in her hair. "I do appreciate that in my visitors."

Out of the corner of your visor, you spotted Morgan inching away. You gave her a discreet nod, signaling her to keep going while you kept your focus locked on Ivy.

"So, this place wasn’t as abandoned as I thought," you said, trying to keep Ivy talking and distracted. "For someone who supposedly retired from the spotlight, you sure know how to throw a party."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. "Retired?" she repeated. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."

Around you, vines stirred, their sinewy tendrils snaking up your legs like snakes. Unfazed, you subtly shifted your weight, and then, with a swift slash of your claws, the vines split apart. You flipped away, slipping out of their grasp with ease.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when my darlings are disturbed?” Ivy’s voice dripped with mockery. “Just when I finally manage to reclaim this space from concrete and steel, pests like you decide to get curious.”

“Look, I’ve got a busy schedule,” you quipped, narrowly dodging a lashing vine. “So how about we skip the tango and save us both a night of pain?”

“Oh, you’re simply delightful,” Ivy purred,sultry and chilling. “Very well, little spider. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

In a heartbeat, Ivy was in motion. Vines shot through the air like whips, each one aiming to entangle or strike. You sidestepped a thick vine that snapped past your ear and rolled under another that slammed into the floor where you’d just been. Your senses were on fire.

Beep!

In the corner of your visor, Morgan’s face flickered into view—a welcome sight amid the chaos. The camera feed was shaky, but you could make out her anxious expression as she huddled behind a stack of crates, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you okay?” you hissed through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of vines around you.

“M Outside! Sorry! I…I didn’t realize Ivy was here!” Morgan said, her voice tinged with panic. “I thought this place was a total ghost town!”

“Apologize later!” you shouted back, ducking a swinging vine. “Just stay out of sight. I’ll catch up with you once I deal with the plant lady!”

With a quick flip, you barely managed to dodge another flurry of whipping vines. You drew back your whip and snapped it towards the incoming tendrils, slicing through them.

Ivy scowled, her eyes narrowing as she watched her plants get cut down. She retaliated, sending a fresh wave of vines hurtling toward you.

You dodged and weaved, the thick, green tendrils brushing against your suit. Each crack of your whip was followed by a sharp hiss of defeated foliage.

You charged through, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught. When you were close enough, you landed a solid left hook to Ivy’s face, the impact echoing with a satisfying thud. Ivy’s head snapped back with a sharp yelp of pain. You laughed, not giving her a moment to regroup, and threw another punch straight to her jaw.

JAB!

“Had enough, or should I keep going?” you taunted.

Ivy’s eyes flared with rage. “You little—”

Leaping onto a stack of crates to dodge another lash from her vines, you shot a web at Ivy. The sticky strands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her securely against a nearby support beam.

Ivy struggled against the webbing, her vines twitched with agitation as they lashed out. You kept your whip and claws at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves.

“Alright, listen up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Unless you want more of your precious plants turned into mulch, I suggest you calm down.”

“Calm down?” Ivy hissed, her frustration barely contained. “You’re the intruder here, desecrating my sanctuary. I won’t tolerate this!”

You took a deep breath, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I’m really sorry about the intrusion. Didn’t mean to step on your botanical toes. We were just here to explore—”

“Explore?” Ivy’s brow shot up. “Is that why your friend took of my vials and papers?”

You stared at her, blinking a few times. Then, with a sheepish shrug, you said, “Okay, to be fair, you left that stuff lying around. It kind of looked like it was up for grabs. Plus, we didn’t exactly see a ‘Keep Out’ sign.”

“So, it’s a case of ‘finders keepers,’ then?” she scowled. “And here I thought you were a little more refined than that.”

“Hey!” you said, walking towards her until you were just a foot away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, lady. Maybe if you knew how to clean up, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder, the golden-orange strands cascading like vines down her back. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your jaw, her breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

“Well, if you’re so keen on exploring,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper, “I could show you something that’ll really satisfy your curiosity.”

!!!

Your spider senses flared with urgent warnings, but before you could react, Ivy thrust a slender vine beneath the edge of your helmet. In an instant, a cloud of pollen erupted inside your mask, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and choked, stumbling backward as your vision blurred and your nose was overwhelmed by the suffocating, heady scent of the pollen.

Your visor’s alarms blared, vitals flashing urgently:

TOXIN DETECTED.

“Damn it,” you grimaced as a searing heat began to radiate through your skin and bones. The prickling sensation quickly escalated into an intense burn, making it feel like your blood was boiling beneath your skin.

“Morgan!” you called out. “Find me an escape route, now!”

"Underestimated me?" Ivy cackled. "Thought you could resist my charms, did you?"

Morgan’s shaky voice crackled through the comms. “I’m searching for a way out! Just hang in there!”

“Oh, you won’t be escaping that easily,” Ivy sneered at you, still trapped in your webs. Despite her restraints, her vines writhed and twisted with a life of their own. “This is my domain, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You gritted your teeth, struggling against the searing pain as the vines inched closer. “Alright, I’m really sorry for this, but I’m done playing nice.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, you shot a web at a vase perched precariously on a high shelf. The vase tumbled through the air and crashed down onto Ivy’s head, shattering into a shower of shards and a splash of crimson.

Ivy screamed as the shards rained down, a flurry of leaves and flowers cascading over her head and shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision.

Morgan's face reappeared on your visor, her brow furrowed with worry. “There’s a clear window—no vines blocking it! Hurry! I marked it on your map!”

Glancing at the map in your visor, you spotted the indicated window.

"This was nice, but I’ve got places to be and people to save," you heaved, your voice breathy as you kicked away a lashing vine. "So if you don’t mind, I'll be taking my leave."

THWIP.

Launching yourself through the open window, you felt the cool, rain-soaked Gotham air slap your face as you soared into the night. The roar of the storm and the distant hum of the city below filled your senses. Behind you, Ivy’s furious shouts pierced through the downpour, her curses mingling with the crack of thrashing vines slamming against the walls.

“PEST!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 1:05 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

"Robin, status?" Oracle's voice beeped in from Damian's earpiece.

Damian was perched on a rooftop, jade eyes scanning the dark expanse of Crime Alley below. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, the cold droplets cascading off the edges of his hood and dripping onto his shoulders.

From his vantage point, he could see the dilapidated buildings lining Crime Alley, their broken windows and graffiti-covered walls illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. The streets below were deserted, the few brave souls out in the storm moving quickly, their faces obscured by umbrellas and hoods. Puddles formed in the uneven pavement, reflecting the occasional flicker of streetlights.

He lifted a gloved hand to his communication device, the wet leather squeaking slightly against the earpiece.

"I'm in my usual position," he reported, his voice steady. "No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'," Damian scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the rain-soaked expanse below.

"Demon brat's got a point," Jason drawled, the sound of him slurping a drink faintly audible over the comms. "Harley still calls you Duck-Boy."

"Just focus on the job," Nightwing interjected, his voice slicing through the bickering with an authoritative edge. "Tonight’s a washout. Red Robin and I are on patrol near the docks. We’ve encountered a few low-level crooks, but nothing major."

"Alright," Oracle’s voice came through again. "Stay on high alert. Let me know if anything changes."

As the comms went silent, Damian pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up against the storm's backdrop. For a fleeting moment, his stoic expression softened. A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the lock screen—a picture of you, warm and content in one of his shirts, your face framed by tousled hair and a genuine smile.

He noted the time—1:05 AM. Given your unpredictable sleep patterns, you were likely still awake. Damian's finger hovered over the screen, caught between sending a quick message or making a call. But before he could decide, a sharp gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making his cape snap and sending a chill through his soaked uniform.

He slipped the phone back into his belt, shook off the cold, and refocused on the scene below. His eyes scanned the shadowy expanse: dark alleys, rain-slicked roads, and flickering, rusting shop signs.

Then, a sudden, unexpected movement shattered the monotony. A flash of red and white streaked across the skyline, its vibrant colors stark against the darkened sky. A web shot out, glinting briefly in the intermittent lightning before anchoring itself to a nearby building.

THWIP.

There was a pause.

Damian’s lips curled into a sharp snarl. His fingers tightened around the grip of his grappling gun, his mind shifting into high gear. With a scowl, he tapped his earpiece.

“Oracle,” Damian began, boots crunching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I have visual on the spider vigilante. Engaging in pursuit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he fired the grappling gun. The line shot through the air with a metallic twang, slicing through the rain-soaked night. He felt the jolt as the grappling hook latched onto a distant anchor, pulling him forward.

As he swung through the storm, a fierce thrill coursed through him, like a bird unleashed with new wings. With the city sprawled out beneath him and the rain pelting against his face, Robin was ready to do what he did best.

Hunt.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"It's going to take hours to get this smell out of my suit," you heaved, wrinkling your nose as you fired a web into the distant skyline. The line stuck firmly to a building, and with a jarring lurch, you swung deeper into the city.

Morgan clung to you for dear life, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “Not the time to worry about laundry! Focus on not crashing into something! And maybe on not dying from the poison?!”

"Hey, I’m just saying," you shot back with a strained chuckle, “if I survive this, I’m gonna need to have this suit professionally cleaned.”

Morgan’s grip tightened, and she shouted, “Survive first, clean later!"

With a yank of your web, you aimed for the next rooftop, but as you hurtled through the air, you realized that you’d miscalculated the distance. The rooftop was rushing in too fast, and panic surged through you like ice.

Your stomach lurched, and in a split-second decision, you threw Morgan forward, trying to cushion her fall. She landed with a thud, a breathless gasp escaping her as she hit the roof.

You, however, weren’t so fortunate. Your foot snagged the edge of the roof awkwardly, sending a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

CRACK.

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed through the air as your ankle twisted violently. The force of the impact jolted your entire body, sending you sprawling onto the rough, gravelly rooftop.

“Great…” you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, the toxin’s effects amplifying the pain with each passing second.

You bit down hard on your tongue, the metallic taste of blood bubbling into your mouth. You fought to keep yourself upright, but your legs felt like lead, and you crumpled onto the rooftop, unable to fully bear your weight.

“Shit!” Morgan scrambled to her feet, her face a mask of panic and concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

"Just… a little off target," you panted, wincing as you assessed the damage. Your visor had taken a hit during the fall, causing the data to flicker erratically. Through the static, you could still make out the crucial info: a broken bone.

“It's fine… Just a broken ankle,” you added, trying to maintain your composure despite the sluggishness creeping into your movements.

“You’re getting brain fog and dizziness,” Morgan said urgently, her fingers flipping through the notebook she’d snatched earlier. “It’s a side effect of the toxin. We need to get you to the safehouse—”

Before she could finish, you shook your head with a groan. “No. You call a cab and head there. I’ll swing.”

“Are you insane?!” Morgan nearly shouted, grabbing your arm in panic. “You can barely stand, let alone swing through the city! We need to get you help, now!”

You pushed her away, trying to ignore the throbbing in your ankle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. The suit’s tampered, I think. Look.”

You attempted to uncloack, but the metal sputtered and glitched erratically. “See? I can’t uncloack. If you’re seen with me, they’ll find us out in no time. I can’t risk that.”

Morgan’s eyes darted between you and the malfunctioning suit, her face a mix of worry and frustration. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Stop,” you cut her off, wincing as the pain intensified. “It’s not your fault. Just get to the safehouse. I’ll manage.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Morgan’s eyes. “I can’t just leave you like this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said firmly, trying to steady your voice. “If we’re both caught, it’ll be worse. Now go! I’ll be fine.”

With one last, apologetic glance, Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed for a cab, her hands trembling.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Damian, concealed in the shadows of the rooftop, landed with a muted thud. He crouched behind the crumbling ledge of an old brick wall, the slits in his mask narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

He watched as you struggled to regain your footing, your movements pained and uneven. The girl beside you—her rain-soaked silhouette a blur against the storm—was clearly in a panic, her phone clutched tightly as she fumbled with it.

‘A civilian,’ Damian thought, frustration lining his features. Launching a direct attack now would be reckless. He had to be certain the vigilante was genuinely on their own before making a move.

After a tense moment, the girl finally moved and dashed down the fire escape, her figure barely visible through the downpour. Damian squinted through the sheets of rain, straining to catch a glimpse of her features, but the storm blurred his view into an indistinct smear of color and motion.

The moment she was out of sight, his attention snapped back to you. You took a deep, ragged breath, bracing yourself. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you launched yourself into the night.

Damian followed, his movements fluid and precise as he pushed off from the ledge. His cape billowed behind him like a dark, flowing banner, and he darted into the storm.

Below, the streets were a chaotic blur of honking horns and glaring headlights, their harsh lights slicing through the darkness like knives. Heavy sheets of rain hammered down, obscuring your vision and drenching you to the bone. Water seeped through the cracks in your suit, each drop feeling like an icy needle against your overheated, feverish skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was too much. The pain, the heat, the storm—it was all too much.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale bringing more of Ivy’s insidious toxin into your lungs.

In one desperate swing, you miscalculated the web’s trajectory. It shot out too low, sending you plummeting uncontrollably below.

Cursing through gritted teeth, you were hurled down into traffic. Everything was a blur as you slammed into the side of a car, metal denting and screams deafening your ears. Your shoulder bore the brunt of the collision, sending shockwaves of pain through your bones.

For a brief, suspended moment, everything went dark.

A cold, mechanical voice sliced through the void, its tone harsh and insistent. Maggie’s synthetic voice, though devoid of human warmth, was tinged with urgency.

“Immediate response required. Vitals are critically low. Consciousness levels decreasing. Current status is life-threatening. Please respond.”

Abruptly, your senses snapped back into sharp focus. You jolted awake with a ragged gasp, your breath coming in frantic bursts. Your vision was a fractured mosaic of blinding lights and shadowy figures. The sounds of blaring horns and panicked shouts crashed back into your ears, tires screeching all around you.

Morgan’s voice crackled through the static, panic evident in her tone. “I’m at the safehouse! Where are you? I couldn't reach you! What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” you managed, your voice strained. “I won’t make it to the safehouse in time.”

You tapped the side of your visor, making a map flicker to life through the cracks and glitches. The display was unstable, but it highlighted a route to your apartment.

“You know where my mom's apartment is, right?” you heaved. “That’s where I’m heading.”

Entering your apartment was risky, but with your condition worsening and death looming, it was the closest refuge you could manage.

Damian, hidden in the alleyway, watched you with a furrowed brow. What he initially wrote off as rookie mistakes now seemed out of character. Your disoriented movements were starkly different from the precise maneuvers he had seen in news footage and CCTV feeds. He had been tracking your case closely, and this chaos didn't match the profile he had built.

He watched as you struggled to stand, your legs shaking with each attempt. The driver's shouts were drowned out by the storm of noise around you. Your strained apologies were barely audible. Desperation marked your actions as you fired another web, using it to pull yourself up and away from the wrecked car and the angry crowd.

Damian cursed under his breath and quickly took off after you.

He tracked your erratic path through twisted, narrow streets until he saw you aim for an apartment building. With a quick stretch of your arm, you shot a web toward a balcony, but your aim was off again.

Another sloppily thrown web sent you slamming into the windows of the apartment. The metal edge dug into your ribs with brutal force, knocking the wind out of you. You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to draw in air. Pain radiated from your side, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere.

Damian, perched on the rooftop across the street, stared in disbelief. This was Catwoman’s apartment—Selina Kyle’s. The worst possible scenario unfolded in his mind. To him, it looked like a break-in. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fingers gripped the edge of his grappling gun, knuckles whitening with the force of his anger.

Pest.

Without hesitation, Damian leapt into action. He aimed for the fire escape with single-minded intensity, propelling himself toward it with a powerful thrust. His boots hammered against the metal steps, causing them to buckle and the entire structure to groan and rattle under the force of his descent.

In the corner of his eye, he saw your figure slip into the window.

Tunnel-visioned and driven by a surge of protectiveness, Damian kicked the door to the fire escape open, the metal panel scraping roughly across the floor. His father would have his head for causing unnecessary public damage—something Robin was frequently under fire for—but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Was that a crash?!" Nightwing's voice crackled through the comm line.

"I think it's coming from demon brat's side. What's the report, squirt?"

Damian merely growled in response as he began to stalk down the hallway. His tall figure, cloaked in shadows, cast long, dark lines across the floor as he moved. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and menacing over the comms.

"Someone's about to learn the price of crossing me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Dazed and disoriented, you slipped into the building, the rough edge of the window scraping against your battered body. As you tumbled through your apartment, you hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact shaking your entire frame. Your head struck the ground with a thump, stars exploding in your vision.

For a brief, haunting moment, there was silence—deep, oppressive silence. Then, a cold, creeping dread slithered through you.

You clawed at the floor, your body shaking.

"Mom? Mom, please! I need you!" Your voice cracked, a raw, fear seeping through every syllable. "Mom, are you there? Please, help me!"

Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood as you cried out into the empty, echoing apartment. The lights were off, casting the space into a suffocating darkness that seemed to press in on you.

Desperately, you stumbled into Selina’s bedroom. Your heart sank as you noticed the absence of her suit—no sleek, black leather or whip. She must have been out on patrol.

A deafening crash shattered the silence as the apartment door was ripped from its hinges. Before you could fully react, a rough hand clamped down on you, throwing you to the floor.

Your vision blurred in and out of focus as you were pinned to the floor. A heavy foot pressed mercilessly against your chest, crushing your ribs with every breath. The weight lifted, then slammed down again, ripping through your suit with a sickening crunch. The suit uncloaked, its torn pieces clinging to your clothes, leaving you exposed in just your undershirt and pants.

Through the dim, flickering light, the outline of your attacker became clearer. A katana was unsheathed with a chilling rasp, its cold blade pressed menacingly against your neck. The steel gleamed ominously, catching the sparse light and reflecting a deadly shimmer. The edge was so close you could feel its icy touch, a mere breath away from slicing into your flesh.

The thought of that forced you to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to the shadowy figure looming over you.

Tall and imposing, the figure was clad in grey and black armor, with a black cape flowing behind them. A red emblem, unmistakably the symbol of an R, was stitched onto their chest.

A cold realization cut through the fog of pain and fear—Robin?

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dundunDUN

whatchu think bookiebears

surely the batfam will handle this well

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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herecirmsims · 20 days

Text

Argument

Another sequence I made for my story and admittedly a fairly niche one (but who knows, maybe you also have a vampire who quarrels with his partner, meets with a powerful enemy, and realises that the only way to protect his love is to attack him and trigger a protection spell?! Maybe??).

These were originally made with the shorter Sim using a cane, but the cane I use is one I converted for personal use and don't have permission to share... and the cane accessory I usually swap to for public shares is stigmata, but right-handed, and wouldn't pose in the left hand properly in game. 🥲 I could've remade them for a right-handed cane user but it was a lot of work for what would have been an even more niche pack than it already is. I figured more people would get use out of a no cane version. If you do need a cane version, then feel free to message me.

Pack contains 9 couple poses plus all-in-ones. Poses were made with masc rigs and as always there may be clipping/floating depending on Sim body type and clothing. There is also a height difference included!

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim

Download here (always free!): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I’d love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Have a request or want to make a commission? Details here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

#ts4-poses #ts4 posepack #ts4 poses #sims 4 poses #sims 4 posepack #sims 4 couple poses #sims 4 vampire #alwaysfreecc #herecirmposes

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sandwhitches · 2 months

Text

request: "can i have an orange and cherry popsicle (hurt/comfort) w suna where he accidentally snaps at reader ??? u can decide how it ends exactly but id like it to be fluffy :3"

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

a/n: u already know i’m going the fluffy route :3 had to repost bc im stupid and forgot tags the first time whoopsies!! also i was like not gonna put a banner on all of these but i don’t think i can physically make a post without one they’re so cute eeughhhh

genre: angst w/ a fluffy ending (hurt/comfort)

warnings: language, gn. reader, teeny argument, mentions of accidentally missing a meal

wc: 779

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

In theory, bad days happen just as much as good days, but every once in a while there is a particularly bad day that will fall onto your lap when you least expect it. That’s what today was for Suna. Particularly bad.

This morning he’d rolled out of bed thirty minutes late, nothing too out of the ordinary for him, which is why he’s well versed in rushing a shower and scarfing down enough sustenance to last him until the afternoon. Traffic on the way to early morning practice? Been there, done that. Hours worth of conditioning? A little bit annoying, but it's not the first time that’s happened. Losing track of time and forgetting to eat lunch? Kinda sucky. Walking to his car to find a terribly noticeable door ding on the passenger’s side? Really sucky.

Suna happened to have compiled an impressive list of minor inconveniences to combine with the other stack of shit, and it all adds up to the very worst part, taking it out on you.

It was just an innocent question on your behalf about the dent in his car, “And you’re gonna have to pay?” You frowned sympathetically, watching in confusion as his expression turned completely to a sour contortion of a scowl, “Obviously, I am, the other car was gone by the time I came out.” He huffed in agitation with a superfluous roll of his eyes to seal the deal.

You sputtered, brow tensed, “You don’t have to get so defensive.” Rintaro had groaned in response, tilting his chin, “Well what kind of a stupid question is that when I already told you what happened?” His breath caught in his throat with instant regret as you set your jaw tight with frustration, there was no doubt you were holding back a return that would only escalate what’s already been blown out of proportion. You stormed off, leaving Suna with the feeling that he quite possibly might be the biggest idiot in the world.

As of now, you’ve only had the chance to be alone for a few minutes, taking your anger out by completing your most aggressive attempt at folding laundry to date. Suna knocks on the doorframe of your bedroom to announce his presence, you turn around to find him nervously thumbing at the meat of his palm, a guilty expression.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking up at the shift in your expression to gauge whether or not he was about to have a t-shirt thrown in his face. Who was he kidding? You’re the most understanding person he knows and he was stupid enough to snap at you. Suna thinks, in that moment, that there will never be anything big enough for him to get mad at you for again. Nothing feels worse than being like this, not even waking up late, nor conditioning, nor missing lunch, and especially not getting door dinged.

“I just-...” he blows out a breath that makes his cheeks puff up while he sorts through countless words, trying to find the right ones to fix things, “I had a really bad day, and I’m sorry it made me snap at you…I'm an idiot.”

“…You kinda are, huh?” Suna looks up to find that the echo of a grin has replaced the deep frown you had before, making the knot in his chest begin to loosen gradually. Rintaro huffs out a quiet laugh, “Yeah…”

For a moment, you thought there might still be something else in his mind with the way his eyes dropped, head swimming in thoughts. The question sitting on your lips was quickly replaced by a yelp as Suna steps forward, wrapping you in his big arms and collapsing onto the bed.

“I love you, you know that?” He declares loudly, taking every playful kick you really don’t mean as you giggle uncontrollably, “Get off of me, Rin!”

Suna snickers, kissing the crown of your head, “I can’t let go of you! Not until I make things right!” Your stomach already hurts from laughing as you writhe against him, feeling the lovely placements of tender kisses peppered across your face.

“Let go before I put another dent in your car!” You shout, earning a bout of laughter from your boyfriend, “Low blow! I’m still recovering!” Suna knows that today was supposed to be bad, and for the most part it really was. But right now he has you pressed up against him like this, he can feel the rise and fall of laughter in your ribs, he smells the powdery scent of your shampoo, and presses his face into yours as close as physically possible. Yeah, he thinks, bad days don’t really exist if they all end like this.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #☀️.summer event 2k24 #🍓.suna #if u saw this the first time i posted it no u didn’t

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quixotical-lymbo · 2 months

Note

HIIII, could you write a short fic about Wukong x Macaque x afab reader (cause reader would most likely be the one to get pregnant except if one of the other two would shapeshift but idk)

basically debating or not if they should have kids? like one is on the fence, the other is totally for it and one has literally never thought about that before 😭 (just chaotic ASF)

please with whipped cream and a cherry on top !! and if not it's ok :3

Pairing: Wukong x afab!Reader x Macaque Rating: SFW-ish Summary: Getting ready for bed leads to a discussion about a potential next step in your relationship with your partners. Warnings/Tags: Wukong himself is a warning, suggestive themes but not very explicit, chaotic, fluff, typical arguments of you know who, topics of pregnancy and children. Word Count: 1900+ words

You ducked your head and spat the remains of toothpaste and spit into the sink bowl, only to raise your head to face your reflection in the mirror. You glanced over your face to make sure there was no trace of toothpaste left before turning the faucet off and placing your toothbrush in the nearby cup along with two brushes within it.

You hadn't even taken two steps inside your shared bedroom before hearing the hushed whispers between your lovers—it was a rare sight to see both monkey's in the same bed. Both were wearing the pajamas you specifically bought for nights like these—where the three of you had enough time to spend it together, even if that meant just sleeping within each other's vicinity.

Macaque wore a two-piece pajama set; a t-shirt with dark purple pants that had stars littering the pant legs. Wukong had a brighter nightgown with a sun symbol knitted on the chest area, a nightcap, and insisted on getting the eye mask with realistic eye designs on them.

Although these peaceful night's weren't always…peaceful. That was to be expected.

Macaque's smirking scowl and Wukong's frown gave you enough hints to know that whatever they were talking about was something semi-serious. You cleared your throat before giggling at the sigh of them scrambling to look like they hadn't finished a heated debate for the past five minutes.

You crawled onto the bed and laid within the free space between them. Wukong turned to face you as did Macaque. The latter brought the blankets up to cover all three of you before the lights were turned off.

Soft, slow exhales filled the silence. You were ambushed by the warmth on both of your sides, Macaque's arm possessively thrown over your torso and Wukong's tail snaked around your leg as he held your bicep gently.

Your eyes stared at the ceiling above, recalling the events of the day as your breathing slowed with every fleeting memory. Your vision blurred before the darkness consumed your thoughts and you began to lose feeling in your fingers. The heavy, comfortable weight of exhaustion finally had its hold on you.

"...?"

Your eyes fluttered open as you lazily turned to the monkey who had called your name ever so gently, as if afraid of startling you awake. You found a pair of pretty golden eyes staring back at you in the dark, the sight causing you to hum–urging him to continue. Beside you, the hand on your bicep squeezed lightly as Wukong tensed up.

"Macaque…" Wukong's warning tone woke up a bit. The confusion added with the sudden tension that settled in the room made you nervous.

"Huh?" You were left even more gobsmacked than before. Perhaps you didn't hear him right. "Do I want…lids?"

"Do you want kids?"

"No, no, sweet stuff." Macaque kissed the side of your head, his words tickling your earlobe as he murmured into your ear. "Kids. Do you want them?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"Yeah, we'd looove to know," Wukong drawled as he sat up, his eyes narrowing at his dark-furred counterpart. "It's not like some of us have to wake up early tomorrow, oh noooo, let's drop an entire mountain of a topic on us and not sleep for the rest of the night."

Macaque clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes, "You're exaggerating."

"Exaggerating?! You're the one who-!"

"-guys, guys, calm down," Your sharp voice silenced the two as you moved to sit up with Wukong. The aforementioned simian clamped his trap shut as he laid his head against your shoulder, Macaque was the only one still laying—his arm now stroking shapes on your belly. "Mac, babe, is this a actual question or are you just horny-"

"Serious." Macaque interjected.

"-Alright," You sighed as you rolled your head on your shoulders. You mumbled a quick apology to Wukong as your head bumped against his. "Guess we're doing this now…my honest answer? I dunno, never really gave kids a lot of thought…what about you guys?"

"Kids are okay," Wukong admitted. "I mean, look at MK, he's great and all…but a baby? Raising an actual child is a lot more difficult than one might think."

"Like you know anything about raising a child," Macaque snickered as he peeked around your body to smirk as Wukong sent a heated glare his way. "I know it might be difficult for most people to actually be responsible, but for me? I could take such good care of our child, sugarplum."

Macaque continued. His hand ran up and down your thigh as he slowly rose to lay most of his weight against you. Your brow rose in amusement at the glint shimmering in Macaque's eye. "Think about how cute they would be, our mini me running around the house and-"

"-...causing a mess, like a certain troublemaker I know," Wukong interrupted. "Look, hun, I would love nothing more for OUR-" Macaque didn't have time to react before you were yanked out of his hold and pulled into the king's lap. "-kid to exist, but aren't MK and Mei enough right now? Heh-...I mean, think about how much they are…like imagine me but smaller, cuter, and ten times more-"

"-smellier? Yeah, what a nightmare that'd be," Macaque grabbed you by your ankles. You squealed before laughing as you were pulled underneath Macaque, who hovered over you with his hands groping the meat of your thighs. Macaque grinned wildly as he leaned down, "If he thinks having a kid is too much for him, then he won't have to worry about that for a couple of months since you'll be having my kid first."

"Slow down, tall, dark and handsome…you haven't even taken me to dinner yet," You teased as you reached up to caress the side of his face.

Macaque's content filled sigh sounded heavenly as he melted against your touch—such affection that could leave him in that weakened and vulnerable state. Macaque nuzzled his cheek into the softness of your palm.

Wukong's face scrunched up at this display before he slapped his hand over Macaque's face and pushed him out of your frame of view. He too began hovering over your laid form while he hissed at Macaque, "Who said you'll be having the baby first? This is a joint decision between all of us! Don't be selfish, bud."

Macaque chuckled as he swatted Wukong's hand away, "You seem pretty against the idea of having a kid, no point in involving you since you won't be the one carrying."

"Psh, well, who would want a kid now of all time or with you? We just got finished with the whole end-of-the-universe situation and barely had a break since and you want a kid now?!" Wukong threw his arms in the air.

"Is there going to be another chance for us–all of us–to be together like this? I dunno, before another disaster starts again? You know just as much as me that this 'calm before the storm' is not going to last forever," Macaque snapped back. "And I much rather spend that time knowing I'm doing everything I've ever wanted to do with them, and what does that say about you? Oh right, always the one to hide away and never confront his problems, typical Wukong—thinking only about himself and his interests."

"Ha! my 'interests' are what keeps us safe and thinking rationally! Obviously that means 'm the more responsible one here!" Wukong bared his teeth, his tail swishing behind him in short, swift bursts.

"That's a first, congratulations."

"Oh, you pretentious fuck-"

Before you could stop them, hisses and snarls were unleashed as Wukong launched himself at Macaque and tackled him off of the bed. You rolled onto your stomach and pulled yourself to peer over the edge to watch the two of them duke it out. You rested your face in your hand half-relieved that they were 'play' fighting instead of actually tearing each other's throats out. You winced as Wukong put Macaque in a headlock, but Macaque managed to escape long enough to flip their positions. You ducked just in time as Wukong's nightcap flew past your head.

"Hey! Watch it!" You spoke, but your words fell on deaf ears as Macaque got pinned for the nth time with Wukong's hands squeezing at his throat.

It was safe to say the argument wasn't over even when they continued to tumble around on the carpet.

"-and you're only thinking with that tiny thing between your legs-"

"Oh? That tiny thing that had you choking so hard you were cu-"

"-GUYS!"

The two monkeys stopped and turned their heads to stare at your unimpressed face, Wukong's nightcap hanging loosely from your index finger. Sheepishly, the two crawled off of each other and knelt before you. You leaned forward and placed Wukong's cap back on before rubbing the underside of his chin, the king's face turned to mush as he was left leaning forward when you pulled your hand away to run it through Macaque's hair.

"Look, I see both sides. I get that we might not have enough time as we do now, but there's no need to rush something so…important." You admitted, your eyes straining in the dark to carefully observe their expressions.

Macaque's eyes strayed from yours as Wukong's chest slightly puffed out. A sigh left your lips while your rehearsal of playing mediator for both sides ran in your mind. "I'm happy that you're ready to participate in such a big commitment with us, Macaque, but right now? Everything is fine and we definitely need to talk more about this than just deciding to have kids without a proper discussion-"

"HA-!"

"-but, on the off chance that something does happen then I'm not entirely against having a child right now." The corner of your lip twitched upward as Wukong deflated. It was Macaque's turn to stare smugly at Wukong.

You shook your head and slipped off of the edge of the bed to sit before the two, wrapping your arms around each of their heads as you brought them close to rest your head against theirs. "Wukong, I need you to know that even if we aren't ready for such a responsibility right now, at least we'll have each other…right? And when have you ever shied away from the chance to be irresponsible?"

Wukong let out a breathless chuckle as Macaque snort made your grin stretch.

"This is…different."

"Yes, it can be scary and something we'll never be ready for…but I'll be glad knowing I'm doing it with you two," You lowered your hands from their head to their cheeks and planted a kiss on Wukong's nose before turning to peck Macaque's temple. Wukong lurched forward to pepper your cheek in kisses as Macaque grabbed a hold of your retreating hand to kiss each knuckle.

The sweet and tender moment broke as you wiggled from their kisses to ask, "So…are you two gonna kiss and make up now?"

Wukong and Macaque blinked at you before turning to meet each other's bewildered gazes.

"Over my dead body," Macaque teased as he grabbed a hold of Wukong's nightgown in his fist.

"Hmph, that can be arranged again," Wukong taunted as he pushed his forehead against Macaque's.

You simply watched on as they began to aggressively hug it out.

What a sight to behold before bed.

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

#lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk six eared macaque #lmk sun wukong #wukong x reader x macaque #fluff #chaotic #anon request #thanks anon!#anon ask

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delicatebarness · 3 months

Text

cry baby | chapter twenty one

Summary: Steve and Bucky have words.

Warning: Fighting. Punches. Swearing.

Word Count: 1151

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: Oh Steven, Steven, Steven. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

Following Steve out of the apartment, Bucky slammed the door behind him. It echoed through the quiet hallway. Each step that Steve took was heavy with barely restrained fury. Bucky was trying to keep his own emotions in check, knowing that Steve’s anger was about to erupt any moment.

As they reached the street, Steve abruptly turned to Bucky, his eyes blazed with rage. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded in a low voice.

Bucky’s frustration bubbled within as he clenched his fists. “It was harmless teasing, Steve.”

“Harmless?” Steve snapped, his fists clenching at his sides as he stepped closer. “That didn’t seem harmless to me, Bucky. You were out of line, and you know it.”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky met Steve’s glare head-on. “She started it,” he retorted, his tone sharp with anger. “Besides, she’s a Rogers. She can handle herself.”

“That’s not the point,” Steve growled.” She’s my sister, Bucky. And, now she’s fucking Peter?”

Bucky’s temper flared. “She’s an adult. She can make her own choices… Besides, Peter seems like a good kid.”

“A good kid?” Steve raised his voice. His anger intensifies. “A good kid who’s sleeping with my sister? I don’t think so.”

Bucky realized how far Steve’s mind had gone with the idea of you and Peter. “Steve, listen,” he started, but he was too late. Steve had already begun walking, his strides purposeful.

“We’re going to Parker’s,” He announced, his voice boomed and his time left no room for argument.

Hurrying his steps, Bucky tried to keep up. “Steve, man, calm down. You’re not thinking straight.”

His jaw clenched, and his strides sped up. “I’m thinking perfectly straight, Buck. He will understand exactly what happens when he messes with my sister.”

Grabbing Steve’s arm, Bucky forced him to stop. “Are we really doing this?”

Steve shook off Bucky’s hand, carrying on down the street. “Yes, we are.”

Bucky tried to keep his voice calm. “He’ll tell her, you know, the second we leave. Or, what are you going to do? Another Walker situation?”

Steve froze. Betrayal and fury fuelled beneath him as he turned to Bucky. “What did you just say to me?”

Holding his ground, Bucky kept his voice steady. “You heard me. This isn’t the way to handle it, Punk. Going after the kid isn’t going to solve anything.”

Steve directed his anger toward Bucky, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “So what, Buck? I just let it go?”

“This isn’t about Peter is it?” Bucky said firmly. “Admit it, Steve. This is about you still not wanting me to date her.”

Steve’s conflicting emotions caused his face to twist, his anger flaring. “This isn’t about you and her. This is about protecting her.”

Taking a step closer, Bucky’s voice was low and fierce. “No, it’s about you not trusting me. You think I’m going to hurt her.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, taking a step right into Bucky’s face. The tension crackled between the friends. “Damn right, I don’t! Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her? It’s been the same since we were kids. And every fucking time, I’ve had to step in and stop it.”

“Step in?” Bucky’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “You’ve beaten the shit out of me every time you thought I was crossing the line! Every god damn time, Steve!”

“She’s my sister!” Steve’s eyes filled with righteous fury. “You were crossing the line! I won’t let anyone hurt her, especially not you.”

“Especially not me?” Bucky’s temper had snapped. “I’ve done nothing but protect her, take care of her! You’re the one who’s too blind with overprotectiveness to see she’s not a kid anymore!”

He shoved Bucky hard as his anger surged. “You think I’m blind? You think I don’t know what’s best for her? You’re fucking reckless, Bucky, you always have been!” Bucky quickly regained his footing after a slight stumble, his rage boiling. Stave advanced on Bucky, his fists tightened. “I won’t let her get hurt because of you. Not now, not ever.”

Squaring his shoulders, Bucky refused to back down. “You think beating me up will change anything? Do you think it’ll make me suddenly stop caring about her? You’re wrong.”

He swung at Bucky, his fury reaching its breaking point. A punch landed squarely on his jaw. Bucky’s fists came up in defense as he staggered but didn’t fall. “You want to do this, pal? Fine. But know this, I won’t stop fighting for her, no matter what you do.”

Swinging again, Steve froze in surprise as Bucky caught his fist and pushed back. He slammed Steve into a nearby wall. “Can you imagine what it feels like to watch the only person you’ve ever loved fall for someone else?” Bucky’s voice scratched with a raw mix of anger and pain.

Struggling against Bucky’s grip, Steve’s gaze met his. His eyes filled with defiance. “You’re not in love with her.”

Bucky slammed Steve against the wall again, harder this time. His grip against Steve tightened. “Don’t fucking dare tell me how I feel,” he hissed.

The two friends stood facing each other as the fight was inevitable, and both knew it had been a long time coming.

In a sudden blur, Steve broke free from Bucky’s grip. He delivered a swift uppercut that connected to Bucky’s jaw. Bucky staggered back again, but he regained his footing. Charging again, Steve’s fists flew in a flurry of strikes. Bucky ducked and weaved. He landed a solid punch to Steve’s ribs, causing him to grunt in pain.

Steve’s punches were wild and angry giving Bucky the chance to counter a hard right hook. Steve barely flinched before throwing himself at Bucky. He tackled him to the ground. The force knocked the wind out of Bucky, and they both rolled across the pavement, grappling for control.

With gritted teeth, Bucky pushed Steve off him, sending him sprawling. Scrambling to his feet quickly Steve didn’t notice Bucky had been faster. Swinging a powerful punch which Steve barely managed to block.

After more punches were thrown, Bucky shouted. “Enough!” His voice hoarse as he took a step forward, his eyes locking with Steve’s. “Twenty years, Steve. You’ve got to stop fighting me on this. I’ve loved her for twenty fucking years, and that’s not changing. If her not feeling the same way toward me doesn’t stop that, neither will a black eye from you.”

His chest heaved as he met Bucky’s gaze again. The fight had drained out the both of them, Steve’s replaced with a mix of frustration and resignation. Standing there, his breathing heavy, he struggled to find words. He couldn’t deny the truth in Bucky’s eyes, a true testament to the years of unspoken desire.

The street faded away for a moment, leaving the two of them locked in a silent battle of emotions.

---

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lotusbxtch · 7 months

Text

The Best Ride in the Galaxy (one-shot)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You have a thing for Poe's flight suit. He decides to be a cocky asshole about it. Sexy shenanigans ensue. Word count: 2k

Warnings: Explicit 18+, MDNI! Mostly porn with a little plot // Established relationship, thigh riding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, swearing, name calling, use of pet names (English and Spanish), dom!Poe, brief light violence (slap to the face), Poe uses a Spanish pet name (bebita) which is probably not canon but idc it's hot, no physical description of reader besides being AFAB and being taller standing than a sitting Poe, Poe makes a corny joke, Poe being a cocky smug asshole comes with its own warning, no use of y/n

a/n: This picture of Oscar & his thick-ass thighs, and @for-a-longlongtime mentioning how Poe-coded it was, inspired this fic in its entirety. A little over 24 hours later and here it is! This is my very first posted fic, so please show it some love, send it to someone who might enjoy it, and feel free to give (constructive) feedback if you wish! If I missed any warning tags, please let me know and I'll add them in. Big big thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for beta-reading and cheering me on, it means the world to me.

You run outside as soon as you hear the X-wings land, your heart in your throat.

It’s been 7 days, but when he left, Poe promised you it wouldn’t take more than 4 for his small band of rebel fighters to complete the covert mission. Of course he insisted on going with them; he’d been stir-crazy as of late, the endless strategy meetings and arguments amongst leadership boring him to tears. He jumped at the chance to get back into the pilot’s seat. You paced restlessly those last 3 days, imagining the absolute worst had happened to him, with no way of knowing if he was even alive.

So when you rushed out to the tarmac and spotted him climbing out of his X-wing, immense relief flooded your body, followed quickly by a potent swirl of both anger and anxiety. He spotted you, his eyes lighting up, jogging towards you with that brilliant smile.

“Hey good-lookin’,” he crooned as he approached, “didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

What he didn’t expect was for you to slap him straight across his face.

You surprised the both of you - Poe was staring back at you, open-mouthed and silent, a rare occurrence; you were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes, your palm stinging slightly from the impact.

“Baby, I know you weren’t keen on me leaving,” Poe stammered, “but this seems a tad bit–”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him, loudly enough for the people around you to look around for the source of the outburst. “You told me four days, Poe, and it’s now DAY FUCKING SEVEN.” You turned and started storming back to your pod, Poe on your heels.

“Bebita, I told you it was a small team,” Poe tried to explain while keeping up with you. “We hit some hiccups in the plan and had to hide out a bit longer than we thought. If I’d tried to contact you, it would have given away our position. You know how these missions go.”

You angrily punched in the access code to the door of your pod. “Yes, I know, which is exactly why as co-general you’re not supposed to be out in the field putting yourself in harm’s way.” The metal door slid open, and you walked forward, not even looking back at him. “I don’t care if you got bored playing politics, that doesn’t mean you get to go rogue and get back in the cockpit.” Slamming your hand on the button to slide the pod door closed, you finally turned to face Poe since slapping him. You let out a shaky breath as your rage subsided. Your stomach was morphing into a simmering pool of nerves and regret.

“Look,” Poe said, “I just… getting cooped up on base listening to those talking heads was making me crazy. I miss flying and I saw the opportunity and took it.” You knew what he said was true, but it didn’t make it any easier on you. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you scanned his body for signs of injury, until you realized… he was wearing his flight suit.

Fuck. That damn flight suit always did things to you. Obviously he had to wear it for functionality’s sake, but god, it was almost like he was made to look good in them. His shoulders looked so strong and broad, and the unisex, utilitarian cut of the orange suit somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his ample, round ass, one of your favorite features of his. You felt your mouth water as you drank the sight of him in, arousal slowly kindling in your belly.

That suit was your weakness, and the cocky smile slowly dawning on his face let you know he knew, too.

“I mean,” Poe smirked, “at least you get to see me in your favorite outfit of mine.” Walking slowly away from you to give you a clear view of his rear, he turned and sunk into the chair in your room. You followed, magnetically drawn to him while simultaneously being flustered that he caught onto your ogling. You crossed your arms and put on your best annoyed face.

“I’m sorry for slapping you, but I’m not sorry for being mad,” you said, pursing your lips and looking away. “And trying to seduce me with your stupid uniform isn’t working.”

It was, in fact, working too well. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to ignore the gentle heat filling your body from your center outwards. Poe’s smirk deepened.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a covert operative because you are the worst at lying,” he said, grabbing your thighs and coaxing you closer to him. You acquiesced, trying and failing to look irritated, the desire plain as day on your face. Poe ran his hands slowly up and down your legs from your hips to your calves. Sliding his palms back and around your ass, he squeezed and your breath hitched. You looked down and those liquid brown eyes were staring up at you, twinkling with mischief. “I know you better than that, sweet thing,” Poe teased. “You absolutely cannot pretend that me wearing this suit doesn’t make you cream your panties.”

You fought to control your traitorous body, breathing slowly through your nose as Poe lifted the hem of your shirt and planted soft kisses on your belly, right above your pants. “Fuck you, you cocky asshole,” you tried to spit viciously, but it came out sounding slightly strangled instead. This Maker-forsaken stupid man and his stupid bubble butt and this stupid suit, you thought, your fingers weaving into the curls on his head.

Poe’s smile only turned even more predatory, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Oh, I would, baby” he whispered, nipping your torso lightly, “but I haven’t showered in days. How about this instead…”

Suddenly Poe grabbed your hips, pulling you down into his lap and forcing your knees to buckle, your legs on either side of his thick thigh. His right arm wound around your lower back, holding you in place while his left hand snaked up your neck and into your hair. He pulled you in for a slow, soft kiss, which snapped the final tether preventing you from melting for him like he knew you wanted to. You surged forward, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth and tasting the minty aftertaste of the gum he always chews while piloting. He groans, biting your lower lip, then sliding his tongue along yours. This draws your first moans out from somewhere deep in your chest, and his eyes quickly darken when you begin grinding on his thigh.

“Oh, you like that,” Poe crooned, lips turning up into a smirk. “So fucking eager for me. So desperate to cum.”

“Fuck you, Maker-damn it,” you pant, burying your face into his neck, the smell of sweat, jet fuel, and him invading your senses. “This stupid suit is going to be the death of me.”

Poe smiles wickedly. “Why don’t you take a ride on the best pilot in the galaxy before you die, then, honey?” he purrs into your ear. You roll your eyes at his cheesy line until you feel him flex the thigh you’re straddling, creating the most delicious friction against your clothed core. You let out a breathy moan and clench your own thighs around his, starting to rock your clit against his ridge of muscle through your clothes. Slick starts dripping out of you with each roll of your hips against him. Poe moves your arms to brace on his shoulders, then slides both of his hands onto your hips to help you ride him.

The pleasure in your core starts to ratchet up, and you grind yourself harder into Poe’s thigh, throwing your head back with a moan. Poe leans to your ear, kissing and lightly licking just behind and below your earlobe, that spot he knows drives you wild. “That’s it, baby, ride it out,” he whispers into your ear. “Use all that frustration to make yourself cum on my leg.” You mewl, circling your hips and chasing your high. Your pussy contracts around nothing, and suddenly all you can think about is how much better it would feel if Poe was inside of you.

“Poe,” you whine, “I need more.” Your slick is soaking through your underwear, the smell of your arousal filling Poe’s senses. He groans, his cock painfully hard in his flight suit.

“What do you need, bebita?” he says, kissing your forehead sweetly while gripping your hips like a vice, a contrast that has you moaning wordlessly. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you,” you beg, “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me, please.” You can feel your clit throbbing, almost painfully. Poe moans into your neck. “Baby, I told you, you do not want me to unzip this suit,” he chuckles. “But I think I can still help. Lean back a little.” You comply, and watch with glazed eyes as Poe stares right back at you, slipping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to get them wet. A shudder rips through your body when he slips both digits past the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. He groans loudly when he feels your slick folds.

“Fuuuuck me, baby, you’re absolutely drenched,” he breaths out. “Is this all for this dumb orange jumpsuit I’m wearing?” That cocky smirk reappears as he laughs at his own joke.

Letting out an annoyed breath, you huff, “it’s for you, idiot. You fucking drive me crazy. You’re the only one that’s ever gotten me this wet. Now fill me up before I lose my ever-loving mind.”

Poe lets out another chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he quips, and then quickly slides the length of his fingers into your cunt, forcing a moan from your lungs involuntarily. He rocks you forward again so that you’re sitting directly on his fingers, with his palm cradling your pussy. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he commands. “Take what you need from me.”

You do exactly that, rising and falling on his thigh, swirling your hips over his soaked digits, your clit rubbing against the meat of his palm deliciously. He adds another finger, stretching you out and making you want to scream. Your hips speed up as you desperately chase your high. The wet squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy on Poe’s hand echo in the room. Poe’s panting fills your ears and your wanton moans fill his. You invade his senses in every way possible, and he can feel his dick pulse with every thrust of your hips against his thigh.

Suddenly, you start feeling the knot in your core tighten as you rocket ever-closer to your orgasm. Poe moans as he feels you clench. “Fuck, that’s it, honey, I can feel you getting close,” he whispers. “Give it to me.” His hips start lifting up, grinding, pressing his length into you as much as he can.

“Oh Maker, Poe, oh fuck,” you cry as your walls tighten. “You want me to fucking cum for you?”

“Fuuuuuuck yes baby, that’s all I want,” Poe pants. “Fucking cum all over my fingers, soak my hand, honey.”

The filth pouring out of his mouth finally snaps the knot in your stomach, and you nearly scream in ecstasy as your release shatters and blooms through your body. Poe moans your name as a rush of your slick coats his hand, and you feel him bite your shoulder as his body tenses. Sated, you slump against him, his hand still pinned under your body, both of you sticky with sweat and panting for breath. Poe uses his free hand to softly cup the side of your face, pressing kisses slowly and gently across your cheeks and nose.

You sigh as he carefully extracts his hand. Just as you peer down at him, he closes his eyes and slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking every bit of your essence off. You shudder in pleasure as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, and you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Feeling better?” Poe asks, the warm molten brown of his eyes having returned. You sigh and giggle a little. “Yes, thank you,” you murmur quietly, “but I wish I could have made you cum too.”

Suddenly Poe looks sheepish, something that’s a rare expression for him.

“Well, uh…” he starts, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and averting his eyes. You pause, perplexed. He glances back at you, then down at the floor, and then back at you again. Poe clears his throat before he finally speaks.

“I… actually did…”

You freeze silently, and then erupt into laughter. “Poe Dameron!” you screech. “The ‘best pilot in the galaxy’, commander of the Starfighter Corps, co-general of the entire fucking Resistance, fucking JIZZED in his pants like a teenager???” You start tittering uncontrollably, much to Poe’s embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” he grouses, which only makes you cackle even louder. He sighs, annoyed but begrudgingly satisfied.

“At least this suit needs to be washed anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and you laugh so hard you start crying.

Tag list (it's here y'all!): @for-a-longlongtime @nerdieforpedro @lu62 @purelyoscar @clemdango04 @survivingandenduring @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @beezusvreeland @alltheglitterandtheroar @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry @agentjackdaniels @dizthemonster @beezusvreeland @queerponcho and anyone else who was interested!

EDIT:

Oh, you were looking for a part 2 to this one-shot? Well it’s your lucky day — Poe was being a total menace, so indeed there is now a part 2!

#poe dameron #oscar isaac #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #star wars smut #poe makes a bad joke #oscar isaac cinematic universe

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anisespice · 1 year

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“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev.

two

synopsis: aw, your boyfriend hates when he’s around? good.

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, toxic!toman, possessiveness, reader is sort of an enabler, implied cheating, slight angst for the partner (rip lol), open-ended, maybe a little unrealistic?? i think that’s it.

notes: there's just something about them knowing they're the shit & and can't nobody check them for it <333 i don't condone making your partner jealous/uncomfy in real life...but i be kicking my feet when it's in tokyorev lol hope you enjoy!

tagged: @fantasycantasy ( if you'd also like to be tagged in future works, feel free to join my taglist <333)

"Be nice." Famous last words spoken to your boyfriend before you went to greet MIKEY upon his arrival. You were having a little kickback at your place, and it only made sense that your closest friend got to be there as well, despite how they felt about one another.

It went well…for about five minutes.

Now, you stood between them as tensions arose, hands on your boyfriend’s chest to keep him pushed back while Mikey had no issue with fueling the fire, practically daring the bastard to swing first. It didn’t help that they’d drawn in a crowd, drunk instigators no doubt praying for a bloody brawl to liven up the once chill atmosphere. You don’t even know who started it, but you had a pretty good idea who was gonna finish it if things didn’t get under control.

“Aki, please, you promised you wouldn’t do this…”

“I didn't even do anything, he’s the one with the shitty attitude! Knew you shouldn't have invited him in the first place. And I'm sick of you always defending him, what exactly is this guy to you, [______]?"

Mikey kissed his teeth. “Such a nag. Can’t believe they have to fuck you-”

“Manjiro.” You hissed, sending him a warning glance.

He merely grinned, head tilted as he shamelessly cooed, “Yeah, angel?”

“The fuck you call them?” Aki pressed, taking a step closer. You planted your feet, preventing him from going any further. “Say it again, see what happens.”

Mikey shrugged, “Okay.” Leaning forward off the wall, he gently nudged your chin with his index finger, making you look directly in his eyes. “Yeah, angel?”

“You son of a—” Aki raised his fist, ready to swing; just what Mikey was hoping for. But, you were quick you latch onto the winding arm. No doubt he’d miss, then you’d have to explain why there’s a sandal-print on his face when he wakes up.

“He’s just kidding! Mikey has a, uh, crude sense of humor, always saying what’s on his mind at the wrong times. Never a dull moment.” You chuckled, nervously. “He didn’t mean anything by it…right?”

Sending him a pleading glance, Mikey remained unphased. The dark-haired gang leader eyed your boyfriend for a good, long minute. His dead eyes made the guy feel unsettled, especially since Mikey tended not to blink for periods of time. There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, so many late night visits Aki knew nothing about—But, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for that later. He’ll play it cool. For now.

Mikey’s stare never wavered as his posture remained relaxed, his aura alone stunning the whole room to silence. The bystanders watched with bated breath. When the pools of obsidian refocused on you, he gave a reassuring wink. Aki didn’t take too kindly to that, stepping backward and taking you with him. The delinquent scoffed, but bit his tongue; he may have won the battle. But there's always the war.

With clenched teeth and a hollow smile, Mikey replied with a simple, “‘Course not. We’re all just friends here.”

Unbothered would be an understatement when describing how DRAKEN felt knowing how negatively your boyfriend felt toward him. Frankly, all he needed was a reason, and he'd happily knock the guy straight out of his shoes. But, for your sake, he remained...cordial.

He also pretended not to hear your little argument in the next room, feet propped up on the coffee table with his arms draped behind the couch, wearing an all too complacent grin knowing he was the subject matter. Again.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot!?" Your boyfriend exclaimed, frustrated. Draken couldn't help but snort, wanting so badly to answer the question for you with a fat yes. "I've seen the way he looks at you, we’ve all seen it, so don’t act like I’m the one with the problem!"

“Takeru, just calm down, there’s nothing going on between us-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” The sound of something shattering, followed by your shriek, made the mechanic perk up in mild alarm; amusement no longer painted his face.

Alright, he thought. Here comes that reason.

It only took him a few strides to get to your bedroom door, nearly splitting the wood in two after he kicked it in. Startling the both of you, Draken’s first priority was to check on your well-being, scanning your person for any visible injury. Luckily, you just appeared to be shaken up a little. Once he was certain, the former blonde directed a hard look toward Takeru, then down at the lamp he just broke. Draken worked his jaw—He gifted you that lamp.

“Kenny…” you said, cautiously. You could sense his impending rage from mere inches away, and you knew your boyfriend would only keep poking the bear. And you’d be correct. “I-It was an accident. Things just got a little out of hand, that’s all-”

“The hell you still doing here, baldy? Thought I told you to-”

Draken chuckled, menacingly. Your partner fell silent, wondering what was so funny, while you just closed your eyes in defeat; you knew that sound meant nothing good. His gunmetal eyes leered down at the pitiful man, cracking his neck before he calmly spoke.

“So we’re just breakin’ shit now, huh. Alright. My fucking turn.”

“I thought you said you'd quit hanging out with him, [_____]! He’s nothing but trouble, have you forgotten he set my roommate’s car on fire?!”

“Tsk. He had it comin’.” Was BAJI’s response, digging through your snack cabinet for a bag of chips. Once he found them, he opened them and began munching away, a bored expression on his face. “Bastard almost ran over Patches, driving around like an asshole. But, he hangs out with you all day, so guess that checks out.”

Referring to one of the building’s stray cats that come around from time to time, you couldn’t help but snort, but you knew he was dead serious—Man doesn’t play about his furry friends.

“Who gives a shit about some stupid-?!” You quickly covered your boyfriend’s mouth before he said anything he’d regret. He wasn’t too pleased, but at least he’d get to keep his teeth.

You exhaled, then directed a frown at the ravenette. “Honestly, I wish you two would try to get along. I think you’d find that you really aren’t so different once you got to know one another.”

“Me? Getting to know that? Fat chance.”

Glaring, your boyfriend ripped away your hand. "Oh, like you're so easy to swallow?"

"Hm, your s/o thinks so."

"Keisuke!"

“The fuck’s that suppose to mean, gutter-trash?” Your boyfriend seethed, turning to you instantly and expecting an explanation. Your eyes were wide, and you waved your hands rapidly to deny the implication. “[_____], what is he talking about?!”

“N-Nothing! God, you always let him get under your skin so easily, Makoto. He’s just being a dick, that’s all…”

Your boyfriend didn’t look convinced in the slightest, brows tight with an upturned lip as he huffed in anger. You shrunk beneath his gaze, stuck without any bandaid words to fix it. Luckily, since Baji was in such a good mood, he decided to relent—It’s no fun when you’re the one suffering the consequences of his crassness. Finishing up the last of the chips, the arsonist crumpled up the bag and tossed it at dude’s face.

“Wha-!”

“Yeah, hot shot, don’t get your panties inna twist. I’m just messin’ with you. We cool?” Baji threw up a fist, fangs on display as he gave an unhinged grin. Makato flinched, but tried to play it off. With hesitancy, your boyfriend eyed the fist with contempt.

“Fuck you. And that ugly-ass cat.”

Probably wasn’t the best thing to say with a fist inches away from his face. Makoto might’ve hesitated; Baji didn’t. So much for getting to keep his teeth.

“You’re a freaking angel, thank you so much for doing this,” MITSUYA gushed, arms snaking around your middle in a warm hug the moment you stepped into the studio. Did he place his hands a little lower than necessary? Maybe.

You chuckled, returning the hug. “Y’know I’d never say no to a free meal."

He had called you for a favor to model a few of his latest designs, needing to make adjustments accordingly before presenting them at the end of the week. His usual canceled on him last minute, putting him in a really tight spot, and you just so happened to be the same size. By offering to buy you dinner for your troubles afterward, it was a win-win for everyone.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, saw right through Mitsuya. Which was why he so eagerly volunteered to tag along. The lavender-haired designer eyed the guy from over your shoulder, disinterested. "Oh. Didn't know you were bringing him."

"Got a problem with that, Mitsy?"

"Hey now, no bickering you two.” You playfully warned, pulling back from the hug. You fixed Mitsuya an apologetic smile. “I hope it's not too much trouble that he’s here, though. I always tell him how fantastic your designs are, so I guess he wanted to see them for himself. Isn’t that right, Haji?”

Said third-wheel grinned sharply, arms crossed as he sarcastically replied, “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to watch ya. Very closely.”

Mitsuya deadpanned. But, his brow lessened in weight at the feeling of you tugging on his shirt, pouting at him as your eyes practically dazzled him into compliance. “Please, can he stay?"

It didn't take much for him to cave. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you had the delinquent wrapped around your finger. He sighed, then reluctantly agreed. It’s worth seeing the bright smile on your face, and especially worth the look on Hajime's when you wrapped your arms back around him in gratitude. "Thanks, Taka!"

Mitsuya didn't bother masking the smug grin he shot at your boyfriend, watching him struggle to hold his temper. "Anything for you. But, I’m not paying for his meal."

#🍁vanilla #part 2 mayhaps???#idk mayhaps :/#tokyorev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev x reader #mikey #draken #mitsuya #baji

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secretidentie · 4 months

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My Superbat prompts

I've been reading superbat since forever and I finally got a tumblr account so I thought I could ask some writers to use these.

Clark kent is at the manor to interview Bruce Wayne when Dr Freeze attacks and they're basically snowed in. Bruce trying to hide secrets and Clark getting the chance to write the story of the year in the form of an I depth exposé from inside the home of billionaire blah, blah, blah... Chaos and fluff.

Bruce is in a love triangle with superman and Clark Kent. Clark assumes Bruce knows he's one person. Bruce decides to solve this by brooding and going on a series of dates with them both until he decides who's his perfect match. (you decide if Clark knows Bruce is batman but think both versions are hilarious)

Bruce Wayne has to go undercover as a carnival worker in a small town on batman business. After the Daily Planet is bought out by corrupt government officials, Clark quits and goes back home to Smallville. He feels like he's changed and isn't as fulfilled by the simple life, not to mention how much harder it is to keep being superman. He doesn't even feel useful on the farm and can't find a job he enjoys to make some money of his own and leave the house. He starts visiting the fair to take his mind of things and meeting this handsome carnival worker who he definitely would have recognized in a small town like this.

LexCorp frames Wayne enterprises for some shady dealings putting the company under investigation which might even lead to it filing for bankruptcy. While Fox and others fix this, Bruce, as the face of the company, is advised to lay low and leave Gotham for a bit. He decides to get an apartment in the cheap side of Metropolis, since all his assets are frozen and he only has one working bank account. On top of that he has to deal with his hot new roommate (or neighbor depending on how you write it) who keeps leaving and coming back at the weirdest hours while also trying to keep tabs on Gotham and maybe getting himself a job in the mean time. (to be clear Clark is the roommate)

During an argument batman says he could easily do superman's job and superman says the same. So they swap cities for two weeks. First to call for backup looses. (feel free to add romance if you want but it's not compulsory)

Clark final gathers the courage to ask out batman but right before he does, green lantern starts flirting with batman too. Harvey dent is recently released from arkham and claims to be reformed and wanting to rekindle his well known public relationship with his collage sweetheart Bruce Wayne. This causes Oliver queen to also try to win his childhood best friend's heart. It's a very long week for Bruce. (all povs if possible. Also Bruce knows everyone's identities but no one knows his. This also doesn't have to end up superbat, choose your favorite ship. Make this love-pentagon as messy as you can)

These are just a few of my personal favorites. I have a lot more. Let me know if you want me to post them. If fics with these premise already exist let me know coz I would love to read them. You can make it as explicit as you want or make it for general audiences but for my sake please add fluff. If you use these prompts also make sure to tag me here or on AO3.

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hippiegoth97 · 6 months

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 1

A/N: Hey, everybody! The time has finally come. My two-year project, Into the Fire, is (almost) finally complete. I originally published this on Wattpad, but I’ve reformatted and edited the hell out of it to make it neater for this platform. This story has been my baby, a work of love and devotion to the fictional man that resides in my heart: Eddie Munson. I’m excited to share it with all of you, as it’s my proudest achievement. If you’re ever curious to know who I am as a writer, as a fan, and as a person, this is it. Please like, comment, reblog, follow to your heart’s content. And if you’d like to join my tag list, feel free to let me know.

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Mentions of blood, smoking, crying, angst, smut, teasing, fingering, use/mentions of drugs and alcohol, orgasm denial, small argument, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, squirting

Word Count: 15k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 1.1: Fast Times at Hawkins U

Friday, March 10th, 1989

"Can I please host Hellfire here this weekend, Mom? The theater room is being repainted, and the Wheeler's have temporarily banned us because Mike is grounded. This campaign is really important, weeks of work have gone into this." You're sitting on the couch, listening to your brother Dustin pleading with your mother in the kitchen.

"I don't know, Dusty. You know we don't have a lot of extra money to spend on food for all your friends. I love that you have a good bond with them since Will moved away, but isn't there somewhere else you can go?" Your mother has always been worried about money since Dad skipped out on you. You'd initially offered to get a job once you were out of high school, but she insisted you focus on college and just 'enjoy being young before it's too late'.

"See, I knew you'd be concerned about that, but everyone else is bringing snacks and stuff. You won't need to worry, Mom. We won't ask you for anything, I promise! We just need the space, nobody else's house is big enough for everybody." You can't help but smile to yourself, Dustin always thinks of everything. He's always been a sweet, considerate kid. Sure, he’s passionate about his interests, but he never wants to add to your mother's burden. He may be young, but he’s smart enough to understand that she isn't made of money. Most kids would throw a fit or cry, but not Dustin. He thinks logically, working around every problem like a little mastermind.

"Oh, alright! As long as you clean up after yourselves, and try to keep the noise down when it gets late, you can host your club, sweetie." Mom has a hard time saying no when Dustin eliminates any concerns she’s posed, which admittedly isn't hard to do.

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best!" He cheers as he squeezes Mom tightly in a hug, she returns it with just as much strength. Your family is notorious for lung-crushing hugs. When they finally loosen their grip, Dustin jumps into the air in excitement. "I'm gonna go call everyone and tell them we're all set to go!" He rushes past you to the phone, rapidly dialing each member of the club, manically telling them your home is officially a hosting place for D&D starting tomorrow after school. Once everyone has been let in the loop, Dustin collapses back into his chair, catching his breath.

"You must be really excited for this campaign, huh?" You tease him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am! It's probably the most important one we've ever had. And the longest, too. Eddie's been planning it for months." He beams at you, eyes wide and his smile impossibly large. But the thing that really stirs your interest is the mention of the club's leader, Eddie.

"Eddie's still leading you guys? I figured he would've passed the title down after he finished school." You remember him from high school, he just barely graduated in '86 with your class after being held back twice. Everyone expected him to drop out, but you admired the fact that he proved them wrong. You've always thought he was cute, but you ran in more academic circles. You weren't popular by any means, you were still a full-on nerd. But Eddie never treated you poorly. In fact, it was the opposite. He may act tough sometimes, but he's a big softy when he lets his guard down. You’re excited for him to be here, in your house, for three whole days. It’ll give you plenty of time to check him out, maybe even make a move if he isn't too busy with the game.

"Yeah, he meant to pick one of us to take over. I guess he gets kinda lonely and wants to stick around. He works sometimes, but when he isn't there's not much for him to do. His uncle works at the plant all night and sleeps all day. And everyone else is either in college or still in high school. So, the club is really all he has going on right now. He would have the band too, but the others have all gone out of state. He misses them a lot. We all do. They're some of our best players, really decent guys, too." Dustin's eyes look so sad, he really feels bad for Eddie. And you can't help but have sympathy for him as well. He made a place for freaks and geeks to feel accepted, and in the end, he's the one who got left behind. "Oh, shit. Don't tell him I told you any of this. He doesn't even acknowledge being lonely, I just couldn't help but pick up on it. He'll be so embarrassed if he knows I said anything." Dustin's eyes widen as he tries to right his mistake. You just smile at him.

"I won't say a word, Dusty. Your secret is safe with me. It's nice that you're so concerned for him, though. He's lucky to have you as a friend." You stand up to go to bed, ruffling his hair as you walk past. "Goodnight, kiddo." You call after him. You're halfway down the hall when a thought occurs to you, one that could benefit both you and Eddie. You walk backwards to face Dustin again. "Hey, would it be cool if I watched you guys play? I don't want to throw off your flow by trying to learn to play during your 'important' campaign. But I'd like to see how it goes, and maybe join you guys next time?" His eyes light up at your suggestion. He's tried for years to get you to play, but it didn’t seem like your style. But now that Eddie would be taking up temporary residence in your home, you figured now was as good a time as any to seek it out.

"Yeah, that'd be awesome! And I'm sure everyone would be cool with it." He takes a moment to think over your sudden motivation to join the club, finding it suspicious. "Wait a minute...you've never been interested any of the times I practically begged you to play. What's changed?" He quirks an eyebrow at you curiously.

"Oh, you know. I figure I should finally see what all the fuss is about. You've worn me down, kiddo." You reply nervously. You hope he'll take the bullshit, but it's unlikely. He's too smart for that.

He gives you a knowing look, smiling just a bit too big. "You sure it has nothing to do with Eddie staying in our house for three days?" Your eyes widen, he always sees right through you. Damn this kid's intellect. You don't dare to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"NO!" You protest, knitting your eyebrows in annoyance. "I just think life is short, and I should get some quality time with my baby brother. That's all! Now, I'm going to bed. And if you so much as imply that I like Eddie in any way when your friends are here, I'm going to smother you in your sleep!" You start walking back down the hall, ignoring Dustin's giggling. You slam your bedroom door shut, slumping to the floor as you lean against it. You dread what's to come tomorrow, Dustin is sure to blow it for you. He’s notorious for flapping his gums when he’s overly amused by something. And him discovering your crush on Eddie is one of the most amusing things he's ever heard.

You eventually climb into bed, trying to put thoughts of how badly tomorrow could go out of your mind. You try to focus on something nice, something good to help you fall asleep. Before you know it, Eddie floods your brain. You let your mind wander thinking about him. How handsome he is, with his long hair and tattoos. How soft his lips look, his deep brown eyes that shine so bright. His torn jeans, his leather jacket and battle vest, his Hellfire shirt. You imagine how all of his clothing would feel under your fingertips. You can't help but wonder what his lips taste like. Cigarettes for sure, but maybe something else too? You frequently saw him eating sweets at school, they seemed to be his weakness. So maybe he also tastes like chocolate, or artificial strawberries. Your mouth waters at the thought. You hope you have a chance to find out, though you aren't sure Eddie even sees you that way. You haven't seen him much since high school, so you aren't even sure he'd remember you. You drift off to sleep just as you begin to imagine kissing him.

"Y/N! Hey, Y/N! Wake up! You're gonna be late!" You stir in bed, groaning loudly, pulling the comforter over your head. "Sweetie, you have classes today, and you slept through your alarm." Your eyes snap open, your mind fully realizing Mom is trying to wake you up. Your dreams were vivid and strange. Eddie was there, handsome as always. You know you were doing something with him, but the dream is slipping away from you as your mother chides you about the importance of being on time.

"Yeah, sorry, Mom. I was dreaming really heavily, but I'm getting up. I won't be late, promise." You babble with sleep still on your lips, stumbling from your bed to your dresser. You make quick work of getting dressed, barely putting any effort into your outfit. Jeans and a t-shirt will do. You brush your hair haphazardly, and don't even bother with makeup. You never really wear much anyways, but you definitely don't have time now. You run to the bathroom to brush your teeth, you can't go to class with morning breath.

"Dreaming, huh? What about?" Mom asks as she follows your path, a little too intrigued. You hope that Dustin hasn't let slip that you have a crush on one of his friends.

"Um, I can't remember. It slips away so easily once I wake up. But I'm sure it wasn't that interesting. It's usually about school." You blush as you lie, frantically going back to your bedroom to toss your books in your bag. You zip it shut and sling it over your shoulders, going down the hall to the kitchen. You grab an apple from the counter, you'll eat it on the way to school. You walk towards the entryway, slipping your feet into your sneakers. Mom follows close behind you, still digging.

"Okayyyy, if you say so. But it wouldn't hurt if you had dreams about someone. A boy, perhaps? You could stand to date someone, you've barely brought anyone home before. And you're already twenty. Men won't be chasing after you for much longer." You know Mom doesn't mean that in a hurtful way, it’s just her personal experience. Since Dad left, she's never had much luck in the small dating pool Hawkins has to offer. Especially to someone her age who has two kids. You can't help but be a bit annoyed by her prying into your personal business, though.

"Mom, I'm telling you it was nothing. And even if it was, it's none of your business. And I'm only twenty, there's plenty of time for finding a man, if I even want to do that. I'm an adult, and I'll talk to you about things like this when I want to. But I can't have this conversation right now, or maybe ever. I'm already running late. I'll be back after classes. I love you, Mom." She stands speechless with her mouth hanging open as you walk out the door. You slam it behind you, hating that her lecture has put you in a bad mood. You glance at your watch, shaking your head. Class starts in ten minutes, but it's a fifteen minute bike ride. You think you can make it if you really push yourself.

You go to the side of the house to retrieve your bike. You do have your license, but Mom needs the car for her job. You hop onto the bike, and begin pedaling as fast as you can down the road. You're panting as you pedal, struggling to take bites of your apple while you ride. You're approaching the downtown area, the streets are busy with people on their way to work and school, you have to be careful here. You're lucky enough to hit every green light as you pass the pharmacy, the library, the movie theater.

You're still a ways away from the community college, you check your watch again. Five minutes left, and you need at least eight. You look back up to see that the light you're coming to is yellow, about to turn red. You don't have time to stop, so you pedal even harder. Your lungs are on fire at this point, and you've given up on your apple.

You zoom into the intersection, just as a beat-up van begins to move forward on your right. It collides into you, hitting your front tire and knocking you over. You scream as you fall, scraping your hands and knees against the road. The apple falls from your hand, rolling into the intersection. The van stops, the tires screeching loudly. You're laying on the ground, shaking with fear. You hear the driver open the door and hop out to check on you. Other vehicles have also stopped, drivers stepping out to observe the scene.

"Oh, fuck. Are you alright?" You hear a familiar voice from the driver of the van. No, this cannot be happening. Not here, not him, not now. You feel two large hands grabbing your shoulders to sit you up to face him. You turn your head and find Eddie kneeling next to you. "Hey, you okay, Henderson?" He asks, concern lacing his voice. He does remember me. He waves a hand in front of you, but you're too dumbstruck to say anything. "Did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?" He asks as he puts up three fingers.

"Three. And I'm fine, just some scrapes. Nothing to worry about. I'm gonna be late for class." You try to stand, but you hiss as you feel your palms and knees sting. You start to fall again. Eddie catches you in his arms.

"Let me see." He says, looking into your eyes. You show him your hands, they're bleeding and have little pebbles lodged in the cuts. He checks your knees, your jeans are torn, and the flesh is also scraped and bloody. "Okay, I'll get you in the van. We'll get you cleaned up and then I'll drive you to class." He stutters as he speaks, he's pretty shaken up. Eddie stands with you still in his arms, carrying you to the passenger door. He's surprisingly strong, given how skinny he is. He opens the door, placing you inside the passenger seat, gently shutting you inside.

Eddie goes to grab your bike from the road, but the front tire is busted. "Shit." You hear him mutter as he lifts it up. You see the damage, cursing yourself for being so careless. Now you don't have a way to class, unless you walk. He carries the bike to the back of the van, placing it in as politely as possible. He shuts the doors, and runs back to the front. The onlookers are still staring, making your cheeks burn red. It's so embarrassing, half the town saw you eat it in the middle of the road. Eddie waves them away, assuring he'll take care of you and your bike.

Everyone seems satisfied and moves on with their day. Traffic resumes movement, and Eddie enters the van again. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'll do everything I can to tend to your wounds and fix your bike." He says, eyes focused on the road as he starts driving. But he's not going towards your school. Instead, he's heading in the direction of the supermarket.

"No, Eddie. Don't be sorry. I was the one rushing, risking exactly what happened just now so I could make it on time. I was being stupid. And don't worry, I'm not expecting you to do anything for me. It's my own fault, I一"

"Cut that shit out, Y/N. I don't want you to blame yourself. It wasn't exactly smart, but I'm the one that hit you. So relax, and let me help you. Shit, I forgot how stubborn you can be." He looks at you with stern eyes, serious about taking care of you. You nod silently, deciding to do as he asks. "Good, now I'm gonna go in the store and get supplies to clean you up." He says as he pulls into the lot of the market, parking as close to the door as possible. "Do you want anything while I'm in there, Henderson?" He asks.

"No thanks. I don't want to be any trouble." You shake your head.

"It's the least I can do, Y/N. I did almost run you over with my van, after all. You're sure you don't want anything?" He tentatively waits for your answer.

"It's very sweet of you, Eddie. But I promise, I'm fine. Just try not to take too long. My mom's gonna kill me if she knows I missed classes today." You plead at him with your eyes to just do what he insists on doing and get you to school as soon as possible. He nods, seeming to get the message.

"No problem, princess. Just wait here, I won't be long." He smiles at you, and leaves the van, running into the store. You can't help but look at his ass while he runs, feeling your cheeks heat up when you realize what you’ve done. You also realize something else. He called you 'princess'. You giggle at the nickname, replaying how it sounded coming from Eddie's lips. You don't even notice Eddie getting back into the van about ten minutes later as you continue to fantasize about him. "Hello? Earth to Y/N. You sure you didn't hit your head?" Eddie waves his hands in front of your face again, snapping you out of your trance.

"Sorry. I'm fine. No concussions here, I swear." Your cheeks burn even more as he's caught you daydreaming.

"Maybe not, but you're looking redder than a commie right about now. What were you thinking about?" Eddie smirks, mentally guessing what potentially dirty things played out inside your head.

You gasp at his question, feeling exposed. "Uh...nothing. Just a dream I had last night. It's not important."

"Hmm, a dream you say? And what, pray tell, were you dreaming about?" He's very curious to know if perhaps he made an appearance. He can't help but smile wider, watching your whole face turn a deep shade of crimson. He thinks you're so cute when you're embarrassed.

"It's nothing you'd want to hear about. Girly stuff. We're wasting time here, I really need to get to class." You look down at your hands, the blood on them turning a dark brown as it dries.

"Right." He sighs, frowning. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. He reaches into the bag of items he bought, pulling out some disinfectant and a couple rags. He opens the bottle, squirting some of the liquid onto one of the rags. You hold your hands out to him, and he takes one of your wrists. "This is gonna sting, but I have to get all the blood and dirt off before I can pick out the pebbles." You just nod to give him the go-ahead. He wipes your palm gently, dabbing away the dirt and blood. You hiss in pain, you've never had so much skin scraped off before. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm tryin’ to be quick, but gentle. I don't wanna hurt you more than I already have." His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you see his gentle expression. It makes you blush again, which he takes note of, smiling slightly.

"It's fine, Eddie. Really." You try to reassure him, but he's not convinced. He finishes disinfecting your hands, and goes back into the bag to pull out some tweezers. Eddie makes quick work of plucking all the tiny rocks out of your skin. "Ouch!" You yelp as he accidentally pinches your sore flesh, almost pulling your hand away.

"Shit, sorry. I'm tryin’ my best, some of these fuckers are tiny." He brings his face closer to your hands, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he looks over his work. He pulls out one more stone, dropping it on the floor. "And...done!" He says cheerfully, and you can't help but giggle at him. "Ha! Finally, a smile on that pretty face!" He smirks at you, and it gives you a chill. "Jeez, you are something else, Y/N." He chuckles as he pulls out some ointment and bandages.

"What do you mean?" You question, starting to feel nervous. Did he see you checking him out? No, he couldn't have. You know how to be subtle.

"Relax, Henderson. It's not that serious. What I mean though, is that you're very keen on putting on a brave face for some reason. You've got all these walls built up. You act like you don't need anybody, when clearly you do." He focuses on bandaging your hands as he speaks, the feeling of his skin on yours making you tingle.

"Is that right?" You ask incredulously. You want to feel offended by his words, but he's got you all figured out. You try your best to be independent, and you don't take kindly to people doting on you. You don't want to be a burden.

"Oh, I know I'm right. You've always been like that, even back in high school. You refused any help with bullies, or when your Dad left. You hold up the world on your shoulders, but you don't need to carry so much weight. It's not all yours, ya know." He lifts your bandaged hands up, turning them over. He kisses them lightly while making eye contact with you.

Your eyes widen, and you can't help gasping. "You don't know me, Munson." You snatch your hands away, trying to be angry with him. You hate that he sees right through you. It makes you feel like everybody else does, too. And all they see under your tough exterior is a scared little girl who can't handle anything.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Y/N. I'm just trying to help." Eddie says quietly, turning his attention to your knees. You suck in a breath at the sting of cleanser again, luckily there aren't any pebbles in your legs. You just want him to hurry up and take you to school. You’ve already got a plan hatched now. You’re going to finish out your day, go home, and tell Dustin to forget having you sit in on Hellfire tonight. You can't sit across from Eddie after he's laid everything out like this. It’s so embarrassing, and you want to hate him for it.

"Look, I appreciate the concern. But I don't need your help. I don't need anyone’s help. I can do just fine on my own, and I don't need you digging into my head like this. If I needed someone to do that, I'd see a fucking psychiatrist. Got it?" You almost yell at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His mouth falls open in shock, and he just stares at you. After a moment he's smirking again, and it gives you the urge to slap him. "Why are you looking at me like that, Eddie? Am I amusing to you?" You scowl at him. He can really be an ass sometimes.

"You are very amusing to me, Y/N. In more ways than you think. But I gotta say, you look sexy when you're angry." He chuckles, resuming his work. You can only manage to laugh with him, feeling like you've lost your mind. The fact that you yelled at him hasn't disturbed him in the slightest. Not only that, he thinks it was attractive. "And I'm not meaning to pry, sweetheart. But, can I level with you?" You nod while rolling your eyes, refusing to say anything. He might as well keep talking since you're not fully bandaged yet. "This whole defensive thing you're doing doesn't help anybody. I get why you do it, I've been there. But it seems like what you really need is someone to be there for you. Sure, you've got Dustin and your mom, but you don't seem to have anyone outside of your family. Everyone needs that, Y/N. And all I'm trying to do is be that person for you, but only if you let me. Bottling up the way you do is only going to make you explode later. And next time, it might be on someone much less forgiving than me."

You take some time to think over what Eddie’s just said, mulling the words over in your mind. He’s right. Outside of your home, you don't have anyone. All your friends from Hawkins High went elsewhere for college. And your current lab partner definitely doesn't count, either. You sigh, admitting defeat. "Alright, fine. You've got me pegged, Eds. And yeah, I'm defensive. I have good reason to be, though. I learned the hard way that you can't rely on or trust anyone." Tears begin to build in your eyes, and you curse yourself for letting your emotions get the best of you. Eddie just nods, listening to you speak. "When Dad left, it tore our family apart. He ran off with his secretary, for fuck's sake. How cliche can you get? He doesn't even send birthday cards to me or Dusty. No calls, no visits, nothing. He just up and decided he didn't want us anymore."

You sob after the last sentence leaves your lips. You can't hold back anymore, and you don't want to. You feel a rush of relief washing over you as you cry. You've never opened up to anyone about how your parents separating has affected you. Tons of people get divorced, most of them with kids. You’ve told yourself there’s no reason for you to be upset over something so normal. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel anything about it at all, until now.

Eddie finishes bandaging you up, and tosses the remaining supplies into the back of the van. Then he pulls you from your seat, and into his lap. He holds you in his arms, wiping your tears as they run down your face. Your head lays on his shoulder, and your arms are wrapped around his neck. He looks down at you with genuine care, which makes your heart swell. "I'm so sorry, princess. Your dad sounds like a real piece of shit. You deserve so much better than that." He strokes your hair, keeping it out of your eyes.

"I'm glad you think so, Eds." You sniffle. "But I can't help but wonder what I did to make him want nothing to do with me. I was only twelve. What does a twelve year old do so wrong that her own father abandons her?" You look into Eddie's eyes, begging him for the answer. But who can truly answer such a question?

"Nothing, Y/N. It's not on you, or Dustin, or even your mom. He acted on his own selfishness, that's all. I really hope you won't continue to blame yourself for that." His hand caresses your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver.

"I guess when you put it like that, it's pretty stupid. I'll try not to do that anymore." You say sadly, and he frowns slightly.

"It's not stupid, Y/N. People blame themselves all the time when they get hurt by others. I'm just saying you don't have to, because it isn't your fault. That's it. So quit insulting yourself, okay?"

"Okay. I promise." You reply quietly, nodding in agreement.

"Good. Now, let's get you to class, hm? I'm sure you missed a good chunk by now, but you'll live." He smiles at you, patting your thigh for you to get off of him. You climb back into your own seat, and Eddie starts up the van again.

It only takes a few minutes to reach Hawkins Community College, and the whole ride there is in silence. The air between you and Eddie feels different now, electric. You don't want to bring attention to it, you doubted Eddie’s even noticed. He parks right in front of the main entrance, turning to look at you. You mirror him, he seems like he's waiting for you to break the silence. "Thanks for um...driving me here. And helping me, and listening to me. You're a nice guy, Eddie." You say while looking down at your hands.

"Please, it's the least I could do. And I'll take your bike to the repair shop for you. What time are you done with classes today?" He asks.

"Uh, three-thirty. Why?" You ask, confused.

"So I can pick you up, silly. You didn't think I'd let you walk all the way home did you? What kind of man do you take me for?" He says in feigned offense, clutching his chest like you’ve stabbed him.

"Oh, well, thank you. I appreciate that, Eddie." You smile at him, and he smiles back. "I guess I should be going, I'll see you later." You turn to open your door, when you feel his hand on your arm. You turn to face him again. "Something wrong?" You ask when you see how desperate he looks to say something to you.

"No, I just一" Eddie stares at you a moment, before deciding to bite his tongue. "Nevermind." He shakes his head, laughing it off. "Have a good day, princess. I'll be back at three-thirty, 'kay?" He blushes slightly, and you wonder what that's about. Eddie is not one to blush, not without good reason. You decide to look past it, focusing on the fact that you're very late for class.

"Okay, three-thirty. Thanks again, Eddie. Really." You open the door and hop down out of the van. You groan slightly as your knees still hurt to bend, today is going to be rough. You glance back at him before closing the door. "See you later, Munson." You grin up at him.

"Later, Y/N." He replies, smirking back at you. You shut the door, turning to walk inside. You make a point to sway your hips just a bit more than usual as you walk, hoping he'll appreciate the view. He seems to because you hear him accidentally honk the horn. You turn back to look. Eddie's blushing like an idiot, smacking his head in embarrassment that his hand slipped as he was staring at your ass. You giggle as you wave coyly at him. He waves back, visibly gulping from nervousness. He shakily starts up the van, tearing out of the parking lot like he just pulled off a bank robbery.

You can't help but laugh at the sight. You made the Eddie Munson lose his cool. Not many people can boast that achievement. You run into the school, thinking about how fun this weekend is truly going to be. You only hope the clock will move faster than usual so you can see Eddie again.

Part 1.2: Do You Wanna Touch Me?

You're in your final class for the day, the large clock on the wall reads 3:25. Just five more minutes until you get to see Eddie again, he's been playing over in your mind all day. You haven't even bothered to pay attention in class, all you can think about is how big his smile is, how his voice sounds, the way his hands feel when they touch you. Luckily none of your professors have called on you like they usually do. Perhaps they’ve noticed your bandages and decided it best to let you be today. You look at the clock again, 3:27. Fuck, can't time go any faster?

You try your hardest to stop staring at that damn clock, looking out the large window to your right. It gives you a great view of the parking lot, and you just happen to see Eddie out there. He's leaning against the van, smoking a cigarette. God, he looks so hot when he smokes. You've never really gotten into it, but you wouldn't mind smoking with him. He's not that far away, but doesn't seem to notice you staring.

"Alright everyone, that's all for today! Don't forget to do the reading on microorganisms. And your 10-page essays on Bacteria vs. Viruses are due on Monday! I'll see you all next week." You're snapped out of your trance as your professor dismisses the class. You gather your things, shoving them into your bag. You dash out of the classroom, running down the halls to get outside. You push the front door open, and rush over to Eddie.

"Well, well, someone's happy to see me!" Eddie greets you as he takes another drag. You lean against the van beside Eddie, twiddling with your hands.

"Maybe. You are my ride home, after all. Is the bike fixed yet?" You ask.

"Oh, it'll be ready next week. I've got a guy who owes me a favor, so he'll do it free of charge. But I can drive you until then, if you like." Eddie says with the cigarette between his lips. He pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, gesturing it at you to offer you one.

"Oh, thanks." You grab a cigarette from the box, holding it between your fingers. Eddie pulls out his lighter, igniting it. You put the cigarette to your lips, leaning into the flame. You take a long drag, letting the smoke flow back out casually. He just stares at you as he puts the pack and lighter away. "And yeah, I guess you can be my ride." A sly smile spreads on your lips as you speak. He chokes on the drag he’s inhaling, your phrasing taking him by surprise. You playfully smack his chest and laugh. "Not like that, you pervert. You can drive me to school, as long as it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, princess." He says, clearing his throat. "But I think you know full well what you're doing. It's cute, but very dangerous." His eyes have changed, they seem darker now. His free hand is stroking your arm suggestively, and it makes your skin tingle. You shudder at the sensation, and he smirks.

"And what exactly do you think I'm doing?" You ask, playing dumb. You can't help your heart starting to race, though, or your voice becoming unsteady. You can't stop staring into his eyes, they almost hypnotize you.

"I think you're being a tease, Y/N." He speaks to you lowly now, his tone deep and seductive. His lips come very close to yours as he speaks. "Now, I like you. And you seem to like me, too. All I'm saying is that two can play at your little game, and I always win." Eddie leans in just a little bit more, and you instinctively move to close the gap. Your eyes close as you expect to make contact with him. But before your lips can meet, Eddie moves his head back. You stumble forward in the newly empty space. Eddie laughs as you open your eyes, blushing when you realize he faked you out. "Something wrong, princess?" He teases, feigning ignorance to what he just did.

"You-" Your mouth moves but no words seem to form. You can't believe he’d play you for a fool like that. If it's a game he wants, it's a game he'll get. "You're an ass. You know that?" Is all you can manage to say. You scoot away from him slightly, crossing your arms. You glare at him, and he's just grinning like the devil. You take another drag, huffing the smoke out as you exhale.

"What? Giving up already?" He moves closer, laughing in amusement.

"What exactly are you proposing, Munson? Are you challenging me like the child you are?" You question him, cocking an eyebrow. You're annoyed, but admittedly very interested in playing with him.

"Hey, if anyone's the child here, it's you. You're the one getting all pissy. But yes, I am indeed offering you a challenge. Which you totally started, by the way." He's far too entertained for your liking, and you roll your eyes. "Come on, you mean to tell me you aren't dying to know which of us would cave in to lust first? I saw you staring at my ass when I went in the store earlier. Those automatic doors sure are reflective, sweetheart." You gasp, blushing at the fact that he did see you, and didn't say anything this whole time.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Eddie! You literally honked at me as you watched MY ass walk into school!" You poke a finger into his chest roughly. "I don't think you're as controlled as you claim you are. You know what? You're on! And when I win, you'll be sorry."

He's unphased by your words, his expression staying the same. "And when I win, you'll be mine." He whispers, and he plants a kiss on your neck. You tense at the contact, the back of your head hitting the van. "Watch your head there, Y/N. Don't need a concussion ruining our fun, do we?" He laughs, flicking his spent cigarette away. You take the last drag of yours, blowing the smoke in his face. You stomp the butt out on the pavement, and wordlessly get into the passenger side. Eddie runs around the other side, climbing into his seat. "Before we head to your place, I gotta pick up a couple members of the club. Ian and James Tanner. I'm sure you've met them before. Then we have to make a snack run, per Dustin's request. If you don't mind helping, I'd highly appreciate it." He reaches over nonchalantly to place his hand just above your knee.

You stare at his hand, feeling your body start to heat up. You're already frazzled and he's barely touched you. You meet his gaze, shocked to see him looking cool as a cucumber. Eddie smiles at you innocently as his hand travels further up to your thigh. It stays there, squeezing the flesh, and you struggle to speak. "Y-Yeah. I can help, no problem." You smile weakly. Dammit, he’s way too good at this. You'll be lucky to last until you get home at the rate he's going.

"Sounds like a plan, sweetheart." He lets go of your thigh, turning to face the steering wheel. He shifts the van into gear, pulling out of the lot a bit too fast. He may not show it on the outside, but he's just as revved up as you are. He carelessly swerves and makes turns at the wrong times. Luckily he hasn't caused an accident by the time you reach the Tanner house.

It's a small house with a broken front window. Weeds are overgrown in the yard, and a yapping chihuahua runs towards the van. Two boys are sitting on the front stoop, and they wave as you pull into the driveway. You recognize them, Dustin has had them over for sleepovers before as they're in the same grade. Ian and James are identical twins, and they’re very kind and polite. They aren't well off by any means, but they never show it. The boys stand up in unison, quickly moving to the back of the van. They climb in the double doors, tossing heavy backpacks down. A woman who appears to be their mother waves from the screen door, opening it slightly to let the dog inside. Eddie waves back, smiling at her.

"Hey, Y/N." Ian and James say simultaneously as they settle in just before Eddie peels away from their humble home.

"Hello, boys. You excited for your big campaign?" You crane your neck to speak to the boys. You make a point to be extra nice to Dustin's friends, they usually need it more than most.

"Hell yeah!" Ian chirps. James nods in agreement.

"I bet. Dusty won't shut up about it, so much so that he convinced me to sit in and watch. And maybe next time I'll join you in playing." You look at Eddie, who's eyebrow cocks at your suggestion. "Oh, I hope that's okay, Eddie." You say as you bat your eyelashes at him.

"Of course, Y/N. Who am I to deny such a pretty girl, hm?" His eyes blaze with glee, he’ll certainly use this idea against you in your little bet.

"Shit." You mutter under your breath.

"What was that, princess?" Eddie inquires. He doesn't miss a damn thing, does he? You can't help but marvel at him, tonight is sure to be interesting.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." You say plainly. You turn to gaze out the window, you don't dare look in his direction. He plays nice for the remainder of the drive to the store, blasting Metallica on the stereo. You let yourself space out, trying to cool off. How does he manage to be so sexy while doing so little? You suddenly feel Eddie shaking your shoulder to get your attention.

"Hey, space cadet. It's time to shop, let's go." Eddie massages your shoulder slightly, teasing you again. It shouldn't be making your skin light on fire, but somehow it does. You do your best to hold back a moan, biting your lip. Eddie grins at you, eating up any reaction you give him. You all exit the van, walking into the store in pairs. The twins in front, you and Eddie behind. You quickly separate from the group, some distance could help you keep calm. But Eddie has other ideas. You grab a handbasket and make a beeline for the chips, and stand for a bit deciding between Classic or BBQ. Eddie walks behind you, dragging his hand across your back as he goes past. You gasp, whipping your head to look at him. "Something the matter, Y/N?" He asks innocently.

"Nope. All good." You answer, acting neutral. You pick the BBQ chips and put them in your basket. You pretend to look at liters of soda on the other side as you walk, stopping right behind him. You bring your hand up to his head, digging your fingers into his hair. You scratch on his scalp real slow, and he moans. Ha! Point: Y/N. You stop shortly after, moving your hand away. He turns around to look at you, but your back is turned now. You act like you don't even notice him, picking up a couple large bottles of Mountain Dew. Once they're secure in your basket, you feel Eddie smack your ass. Hard. You yelp in surprise, almost dropping the basket to the floor. Point: Eddie.

"Shhh, better keep quiet. We don't want the kiddos to know what we're up to." He whispers into your ear, making you shudder. Eddie's standing very close behind you, his body heat radiating from him. You decide to get even by backing yourself into him, making sure your ass rubs right over his crotch. He whimpers at the contact. Point: Y/N. "Fuck, you don't play fair, do you?" He purrs. He moves your hair to the side, exposing your neck. He then proceeds to lick the entire length of it, all the way to your jaw.

"Jesus, Eddie. How are you so fucking hot?" You say with a lustful sigh, proud of yourself for not moaning. Although, the feeling of his warm tongue is quickly getting you wet.

"Practice, I guess. And that sexy little sigh you let out still counts, princess." Dammit. Point: Eddie. You separate yourself from him again, walking to the next aisle. Rows of shiny candy bars glisten in front of you. You make sure to get some 3 Musketeers, Dustin's favorite. You're about to grab your own favorite, when Eddie suddenly appears beside you. He grips your wrist, stopping your movement. You try to resist, but he's stronger than you. He brings your wrist up to his lips, kissing it while looking in your eyes. You stare at him, mouth agape as he kisses your arm all the way to the inside of your elbow.

You're feeling ridiculously warm in here, maybe the AC is busted. Your eyes are wide, your chest rising and falling quicker than usual. You give no other reaction, much to Eddie's dismay. He drops your arm, picking out a Hershey bar. He lets it fall into your basket. "My favorite." He says simply, and turns to walk away from you. You just stand in place, amazed at his behavior. One second, he's licking and kissing you. The next, it's like nothing ever happened. You realize now you need to up your game. But not here, this round is definitely ending in a tie. Plus, it’s only a matter of time before either the twins or an employee catches you. And you can't have that.

You eventually make your way up to the checkout, meeting the others in line. You take a moment to see what everyone else picked as the items are placed on the conveyor belt. There's quite a variety, Twizzlers, Crunch Bars, New Coke, A&W, tortilla chips and salsa, Cheetos, the items you chose, and a few other similar choices. But at the very end, are Eddie's picks. A couple six-packs of beer, a carton of cigarettes, and condoms. Fucking condoms. This man is so confident you'll put out, he isn't even embarrassed to buy them in front of you. Cocky bastard.

You lean over to speak into his ear, pulling his locks aside. "If you think you're gonna lay me that easily, you've got another thing coming." And you slyly bite his earlobe, returning to your original position afterwards. He gasps, not expecting you to make such a bold move in front of the kids, or the cashier. Nobody seems to notice, but his cheeks burn with sudden shyness. You can't help giggling at his reaction. He's very cute when he does that. He breathes out heavily, composing himself.

"That'll be $32.45, sir." The cashier says once everything has been rung up. The twins make quick work of bagging everything up while Eddie pulls out his wallet. He gives the cashier two twenties, and clumsily shoves the change he receives into his pocket.

"Thanks, man." Eddie says, going to the end of the line to grab a couple of the bags. "Alright, let's go home, little demons!" He says to the boys, and they all walk out ahead of you while shoving each other around playfully. There's one bag left on the end, the one with Eddie's special items in it. You grab it, running after them to the van. Everyone gets settled in with all the goodies, and Eddie drives to your house.

Once you arrive, Eddie turns to the twins. "Hey guys, why don't you take the bags in for us, okay? We'll be there in a minute." He smiles at them, and they nod while grabbing all the bags besides the one you still had in your hands. They run to your front door like maniacs, and you see Dustin letting them inside after they ring the doorbell. You notice a couple bikes outside in the yard, the Sinclairs have already arrived. You look at Eddie, noticing him staring at you.

"What's up, Eds?" You ask.

"Nothin’, just...thinking." He replies with a suspicious grin. Eddie takes your hands in his, lifting them to his lips to kiss them.

"What about?" You can tell he's up to something.

"About how I'm gonna make you pay for that stunt you pulled at the checkout. It was brave, but it was also a big mistake. I was holding back before, Y/N. I can do so much worse than that." He chuckles darkly. Your eyes widen, you've really done it now. "Just you wait and see, princess. By the end of the night, you'll be begging me to fuck you." He gives you a shit-eating grin, and drops your hands. He gets out of the van without another word, leaving you dumbstruck. You struggle to gather your thoughts, but all you can think is how incredibly turned on you are.

Once you're able to think straight, you grab your belongings and run to the house. You push open the door to see everyone bustling around to set up the game. A couple folding tables from the attic are standing in your living room, and Eddie makes it his mission to put everything in its perfect place. Dustin and the Sinclairs are helping him, listening to his barked orders. James and Ian are in the kitchen, putting drinks in the refrigerator and dumping the snacks onto the counter. You take the beer from Eddie's bag to add to the fridge, and then stop in your room to put your schoolbag away. You decide to keep Eddie's other items in your room, out of sight from your nosy mother. You turn to leave, and you find Mom standing before you with her arms crossed.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You didn't come home after classes like you said. Wait, what are those?!" She points at your bandages, suddenly very worried.

"Mom, it's nothing. I was on the way to school and I tried to cross an intersection too late. Eddie ended up hitting me and I fell and scraped my hands and knees." You try to keep her calm, she always spirals any time you or Dustin get so much as a paper cut.

"He did what!? And you came back here with him? Why didn't you call me?" She frantically bombards you with questions.

"Mom, I promise it's okay. He stopped and helped me, he got the bandages for me and cleaned me up. It was my fault, I went in the road when I shouldn't have. And he feels really bad about it, so, please don't bring it up. My bike did get a bit damaged, but he took it to a shop to get fixed. And he's going to drive me until it's ready, okay? Just calm down." You barely stop to take a breath, doing everything you can to keep her from throwing Eddie out on his ass.

"You can't be careless like that, Y/N. You could've been seriously hurt, or even killed! And I can't lose you, sugarpuff." Mom has called you sugarpuff ever since you were five. You don't know where the name came from, but you always liked it. She has tears forming in her eyes, and she pulls you into a suffocating hug. "You and Dusty are all I have. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do." You can't help but feel a bit guilty. You put your life at risk, and for what? To not be late to class one time? You hug her tight, letting her know you understand how she feels. You're her child, and you always will be.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Really, I didn't mean to make you upset. I won't be so careless again, okay? But I should go help with the campaign. I'm watching them play tonight." She lets you go when she hears that last part, looking at you oddly.

"Really? Hmm, interesting." She gives you a knowing look. Dammit, you are gonna murder Dustin for his loose lips. "Well, have fun, sugarpuff. And don't do anything I wouldn't do." You gasp, surprised that your own mother would be condoning you potentially being intimate with a certain someone who’s currently shouting about dice in the living room. She scoffs at you. "Don't be so prudish, Y/N. You're a grown woman, right? Go get 'em." She says with a laugh, going to her room to let you and the club be. She might pop out every so often for a snack or the bathroom, but she knows not to intrude when you or Dustin have company. She may be pushy sometimes, but she tries her hardest to give you space where it’s needed.

"Hey." You hear Eddie whisper from behind you, making you jump. You whip around to face him, his body very close to yours. "We're just about ready now. You wanna come sit next to me, princess?" He asks while leaning even closer to you. You wait to see what move he's going to make, watching his hand raise and aim for your chest. You start breathing heavily, anticipating his touch. He looks at you with eyes of fire, wetting his suddenly dry lips. You want him to touch you so badly, you wish he'd just do it already. You close your eyes, waiting expectantly. "Boop." You feel his finger on the tip of your nose, and your eyes snap open. Eddie fakes you out yet again, and you can't help the frustrated sigh that falls from your lips. "Aww, were you expecting something else? Seems like you'll break soon enough. Come on, it's game time." He's so smug about his effect on you, rubbing it in your face. He puts his hand out for you to take, and you do. The feeling of his warm skin on yours is electric.

You walk together down the hall, and into the living room. He leads you over to the head of the table, and you take the seat beside his. The others have already taken their places, and they notice you and Eddie holding hands. Once you're both seated, he lets your hand go, and you can't help quietly whining at the loss. He smirks at you, his moves on you working exactly as planned. Or so he thinks. You make a quick move to scoot your chair as close to him as possible. He raises a warning eyebrow at you, and you just smile at him innocently.

"Alright, everybody. Let's get this shit started." Eddie announces. "And for anyone out of the loop, the lovely Y/N will be sitting in tonight. And she might even be joining our little club." Everyone nods in approval, eager to get things moving. You watch Eddie closely as he starts the campaign, taking in how theatrical he is while he leads the story. His eyes shine bright, and his voice morphs into different characters. You can't help giggling when his voice goes high to play the women. You glance around the table, taking in how everyone plays so well together.

You do your best to pay attention to how everything works. Turns, skills, weapons, the dice, it’s a lot to take in. But it’s easy to see why everyone here enjoys playing so much. Outside of all the math and note-taking, it’s an adventure. And you can't wait to join the next one. Eddie looks over at you often during the game, though only for a moment. He's very passionate and focused when it comes to D&D. You glance at your watch, shocked to see three hours have already passed. You decide now is your time to make moves on him. The table blocks the view of your hands from the others, and you bring your right hand to Eddie's thigh. He stumbles over his words, his body tensing up under your touch. His eyes meet yours as he continues to speak, trying to keep the rest of the table oblivious to what you're doing.

Your hand slowly goes further, higher up his thigh. Eddie's heart begins to race, and he almost shouts his next sentence when you finally reach his crotch. His hand bangs on the table, causing the others to jump. "You alright there, Eddie?" Dustin asks. Everyone's eyes move to their dungeon master, watching him closely.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just uh...I think we all need a small break." He says while narrowing his eyes at you. Everyone voices agreement, and stands from the table. Dustin heads for the bathroom, and the others go to the kitchen for more snacks. You and Eddie are the only ones still seated, and your hand is still between his legs. You feel his dick hardening just beneath your fingers, and you decide to palm him through his jeans. He moans, gripping your wrist. Point: Y/N. "Christ, you're really asking for it, aren't you? I was gonna play nice for a bit longer. But now you've pushed this past the point of no return." He chuckles as he places his hand over yours, squeezing roughly. You look in his eyes with a sly smile on your face as you continue to grope him. His eyes bore into you with lust, the room igniting around the both of you.

"Do your worst, Munson. I can't imagine you can take much more of this. You talk a big game, but your cock tells me everything I need to know." You let him out of your grip, causing him to whine. He tries to stifle it, but you know you're very close to winning the whole thing. Sure, you're playing a little dirty. But he’s so sure he'll beat you, so smug about it. You can't stand to let him win.

After a few minutes, the others return to the table. Eddie proceeds with the adventure, giving his full attention to everyone except you. He isn't even glancing in your direction anymore, and it's driving you mad. You mentally beg him to look in your direction, but he doesn't answer your plea. This fucker is working his magic on you, making you desperate for anything he’s willing to give you. You try to hide your frustration, but your knee impulsively bobs up and down rapidly. Eddie only takes notice because his own knee is flush against yours. He finally gives you the attention you've been craving. A look that acknowledges your wanting, while also teasing you for it. He knows precisely how his methods are affecting you, putting his hand on your knee to make it stop bouncing. You hold back a moan, not wanting to give yourself away.

Eddie winks at you, and his own hand moves slowly up your leg. He stops at your thigh, holding his hand there. Your heart is pounding, and your panties are becoming increasingly wet the more he touches you. You're panting slightly, looking in his eyes to beg him for more. He gives you a subtle nod, while still directing the group in the campaign perfectly. Nobody notices what’s going on, because Eddie is more than capable of multitasking. He makes a point to show you just how well he can focus on two things at once. His hand migrates to the waistband of your jeans, undoing the button, and pulling the zipper down. Once your pants are open, he slips his hand inside. His eyes are not on you while he does this, he makes sure to distract everyone from what he's doing to you.

You gasp when Eddie strokes your clit over your panties, but you cover it with a cough. A few eyes move towards you, but you wave them away, blaming allergies. The attention once again returns to Eddie. His hand continues to stroke you over your underwear, he can feel the thin material moistening under his fingertip. Your skin starts to burn, your blood boiling in your veins. He goes under your panties now, running his fingers through your slick folds. You hold back your moans, biting your lip. You place an elbow on the table, holding your head in your palm to disguise your mouth with subtlety.

His fingers continue to stroke you, rubbing your clit in persistent circles. Your cunt is consistently dripping into your jeans, his touches tying a large knot in your belly. He manages to insert a finger into your pussy, which causes your knee to hit the underside of the table. Everyone looks at you, including Eddie. "Careful, Y/N. You already hurt your knee once today, take it easy." He smirks.

"Sorry, won't happen again. Continue." You struggle to get the words out. Your knee stings from your wound, but the pleasure Eddie continues to give you while acting like nothing is happening makes your head spin. His finger starts curling inside you, slow and steady to not make too much noise.

You're doing everything you can to keep control of your sounds and movements. You have to act natural, the game must go on unnoticed. Eddie adds a second finger, which makes you want to scream. You want to give in, to tackle him to the ground so you can have your way with him. You don't even care about everybody else in the room. You want to ride him, right here and right now. You feel the knot growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Your walls flutter around Eddie's fingers. When he realizes you're just about to cum, he pulls away. Your high runs for the hills, leaving you unsatisfied. You groan loudly, scowling at Eddie.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You're acting weirder than usual." Erica asks.

"Erica! Don't be rude." Lucas scolds her.

"What? It's just the facts! She's been acting strange for hours. what gives?" Erica crosses her arms, waiting to hear an explanation.

Once again, everyone's eyes are on you. You blush madly, stuttering. "I'm一" You glance at Eddie, who offers no help, only a self-congratulatory grin. Damn him, damn him and this stupid bet. You quickly close your jeans as you come up with a reason to leave. "I just...don't feel well. All this junk food isn't agreeing with me. I'll stop interrupting you guys. Sorry. Goodnight." You bolt out of your chair and run to the safety of your bedroom. You slam the door behind you, your back leaning against it.

You start to cry, feeling so embarrassed. You're sure the kids bought your story, but it was so humiliating. To have Eddie touching you like that, with everyone in the room. Sure, you started it, but it wasn't like you had his dick out under the table. Not only that, he denied you in order to get a reaction, drawing attention to you over something so private. You decide to just stay in your room for the rest of the weekend, hiding from everybody. Especially Eddie.

A few hours pass, you're still in front of your door crying. You're on the floor now, and you hear everyone calling it a night. Dustin says goodnight to you through the door, hoping you feel better soon. He goes to his room, shutting the door. The others have taken the couch or have sleeping bags on the floor. Eddie usually sleeps in his van. You think it might be safe to go pee before bed, when you hear a light knocking on the door.

"Y/N, can I come in?" It's Eddie. Of course, he wanted to gloat, right? Shove it in your face that he got the best of you. "I just want to talk. Please?"

Part 1.3: I Think We’re Alone Now

"Please let me in?” He sounds genuinely worried. You sigh and wipe your eyes, standing up to open the door. You let him in, but turn away from him to slump onto your bed. You lay down, facing the wall. Eddie closes the door behind him, sitting on the end of the bed. "Are you alright, Y/N?" He asks quietly, looking down at his hands.

"What do you think?" You snip.

"I didn't mean to upset you, princess. I一" He touches your ankle, but you tug it away.

"Don't call me that! You embarrassed me in front of the Sinclairs, the Tanners, my own brother! Was winning really worth making a fool out of me?" You say through gritted teeth.

"Y/N, I promise that wasn't my intention. What I did was stupid, and wrong. I just...I got caught up in the game. I went too far, and I'm sorry." You hear the remorse in his voice, he didn't want to hurt you. It was quite the opposite, he wanted to have fun and make you feel good. "If you want me to, I can leave right now. I’ll pick the twins up in the morning, postpone the campaign until we can host it somewhere else. I’ll even twist the arm of the repair guy to fix your bike tomorrow so you don't have to see me again."

You take his efforts to do right by you into consideration. He'd go to all that trouble to make you comfortable, regardless of how he feels about you. He clearly cares about you, he just got carried away. Your heart swells at his gesture. You just can't stay mad at him no matter how hard you try. You groan in defeat, sitting up and scooting to the end of the bed to face him. "No, you don't have to go. But let's make it a rule to not finger me in front of other people like that, okay? And you're on thin ice, metalhead."

"You got it. Cross my heart and hope to die." He says, making an 'X' on his chest with his finger. He gazes at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "So, everyone else is asleep. You wanna have a beer and a smoke outside with me?" He asks, holding his hand out to you.

"I thought you'd never ask, Munson." You smile, taking his hand. You open the door as quietly as possible, trying your best to not make any noise. Eddie follows close behind you, still holding your hand. You stop in the kitchen to grab a six-pack of beer from the fridge, then you tiptoe your way around everyone's sleeping bags. You finally reach the front door, not bothering to put on shoes. You turn the knob, trying to keep the door from squeaking on its hinges. You both slip out into the night, the cool night air tickling your skin. Eddie left his jackets inside, so you both shiver slightly.

Eddie plops down in the dewy grass of your front lawn, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. "Come here, princess." You do as he asks, sitting cross-legged like him. Your knee touches his as you sit closely to him. You set down the beers, and Eddie grabs one out of the pack. He pulls out a bottle-opener, popping off the top. He hands it to you "Ladies first." He winks at you, pulling out another bottle for himself. You chug half of it down instantly, burping loudly after you swallow. "Hmm, maybe not then." Eddie quips, taking a swig from his own beer.

"Sorry, I was just really thirsty." You blush, giggling at your own rudeness. Eddie laughs too, pulling out his cigarettes. He takes two out of the box, holding one up to your lips. You take it in your mouth, and he lights it, looking deep into your eyes. The flame casts a yellow glow on his face, highlighting his beautiful features. He moves the lighter away from you to light his own cigarette. You inhale from yours deeply, laying down in the grass before you exhale. You stare up at the night sky, taking in the shining stars and full moon. There aren't any clouds tonight, so everything is crystal clear. He copies you, putting his shoulder against yours.

"Damn, what a view!" Eddie exclaims, gesturing at the sky dramatically with his hands. You both smoke silently for a bit, your hands lacing together without realizing it. When you've reached the end of your cigarette, you swipe it roughly onto the ground to put it out before flicking it away. Eddie does the same before speaking again. "You know what a better view than this is, though?" He asks, glancing at you.

"Nope. But you can tell me if you like." You tease him, letting his hand go so you can lay on your side. You rest your head on your left arm, your right going to Eddie's chest. He sighs softly as your fingers lazily stroke him over his shirt.

"It's you, Y/N. You're more beautiful than all the stars, all the planets. All the galaxies in the universe couldn't compare to you." He says with sincerity. He turns his head to look at you, his face carrying a soft expression.

"You are being so cheesy right now." You scoff in disbelief. His smile drops a little, looking sad. "No, I like it, a lot. It's just a different side of you I didn't expect."

"I think you'll find I'm just full of surprises, Y/N." He mirrors your position, a small smile forming on his lips. You move your body closer to his, pressing yourself flush against him. Your hand cups his cheek, and you're not feeling the cold air anymore. The atmosphere has been set ablaze, the both of you breathing heavily. It's like you're running low on oxygen.

Your lips are just a whisper away from his, and you can't stop staring at them. They look so soft and plush, and you're reminded of your late-night thoughts about how they might taste. You close the gap, pushing your mouth onto his gently. You both moan at the contact, and you bite his bottom lip. He gasps, allowing your tongue access to tangle with his. You moan again when you confirm your fantasies of him. He does taste like tobacco, and beer. But there's an underlying flavor of chocolate, the Hershey bar he plopped into your handbasket at the store.

Your hands tangle into Eddie's hair, tugging it roughly. He groans, flipping you both over so you're straddling him. His hands hug the curves of your ass, and he squeezes the flesh under his fingers through your jeans. You moan into his mouth, grinding your hips down onto him. You feel his dick hardening beneath you, positioned right under your cunt. You're getting soaked again, which drives you to keep moving on him. It feels so good, but you want more. "Eddie, someone might see us out here and call the cops. Let's go back to my room, okay?" You whisper as you release his lips from yours.

"Sure thing, baby. To be continued." He jokes. You giggle playfully and move off of him. You gather the open beers back into the pack, and you hold out a hand to help Eddie off the ground. He takes it, standing up next to you. He pulls you back to him by the waist, smashing his lips on yours hungrily. It ends as soon as it starts though, leaving you breathless. Eddie leads you inside with his arm around your waist. You sneak back into the house, following the same route you took to leave.

You stumble backwards into your room, pulling Eddie by his shirt. He kicks the door shut behind him, luckily it doesn't slam too hard. You set the beers down on your dresser, and then you're being pushed down onto your bed by him. You fall back onto the pillows, bouncing slightly when you make contact. He climbs on top of you, his knees on either side of yours. You gaze up at him from your pillow, his long locks hanging down around his face. He stares back at you, smirking as always. He slowly lowers his lips onto yours once more, languid and passionate this time. You moan as his hand gropes your tits over your shirt. You grip his hair again as he kisses you, tugging even harder this time. He groans louder than before, breaking away.

"Careful, babydoll. Don't push my buttons too much, or who knows what I'll do." He says darkly. His mouth moves to your neck, where he licks you the same as he did to you earlier today.

"God, Eddie. You're so fucking hot." You exhale lustfully, throwing your head back as he marks hickies on you.

"You're not so bad yourself, Y/N." He sits on his knees to remove his shirt. As he pulls it over his head, you can't help staring at his body. He's slim, but a little bit toned. And his tattoos suit him so well. You bite your lip as you do your best to memorize him for your future late-night thoughts. "You like what you see?" He tilts his head at you. You just nod, wide-eyed. You take off your t-shirt and your bra, exposing your breasts to him. His breath catches in his throat when he gets a good look at you. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." He murmurs, staring at you in awe.

"C’mere." You plead, pulling him down to you by his belt buckle. Your hands roam Eddie's back, scratching your nails into his skin. He moans as he begins to kiss your chest. His mouth leaves a trail of hickies all over your tits. You whimper as he makes each one, gasping when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. "Eddie…" You moan, and he stops sucking on your tit, peering down at you.

"You make such pretty noises, Y/N." He says with a grin before returning to his task. He moves on to your other breast, gently biting down on your sensitive bud.

"Jesus, fuck." You can't help all the moans and curses that fall from your mouth, everything he does feels like magic. Your sounds feed Eddie's fire, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

"You're such a good little slut for me. Reacting to every touch I give you." He purrs at you as his mouth travels further down your body. You moan at his words, so filthy and arousing at the same time. "You like when I call you that, princess?" He asks, noting your eyes blown wide with desire.

"Yes." You manage to choke out a reply as his lips leave a trail of kisses down your torso until he reaches your jeans. Everything he does is unbearably sexy, it stirs a primal fire inside you. No other man has come close to making you feel so simultaneously in and out of control. You want him to ruin you, to do anything and everything he wants to you.

"Good girl." He replies, his hands undoing your jeans for the second time tonight. He pulls them off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands spread your legs for him, and a grin forms across his mouth when he sees the dark spot on your panties. "So wet for me already?" His hand strokes you over the thin fabric, and your hips buck off the bed impulsively as you moan. Eddie holds you down with his other hand. "Relax, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He slips your panties off slowly, and takes a long look at your drenched pussy. "Fuck, you're so beautiful, Y/N." His eyes meet yours, finding you panting as you await his next move. His fingers feel your slick folds, brushing over your clit. You moan loudly, forming fists as you grip the blanket beneath you. He keeps eye contact with you as he inserts a finger into your dripping cunt. Your mouth falls open, but barely any sound comes out. He starts pumping in and out of you, curling just so to hit your sweetspot with ease.

"Oh, Eddie…go faster, please..." You can't help sounding needy as you whine for him to do more. You feel a familiar knot building inside of you, winding tighter with every stroke of Eddie's finger inside of you.

"Anything you want, angel." He does as you ask, causing more moans and calls of his name to spill from you. He adds another finger, and you arch your back. Your body is slowly sheened in sweat, and Eddie keeps praising you. "You're doing so well, princess. Such a good girl for me." He removes his fingers, and you whine at the loss. But he quickly starts licking your clit with his tongue. He paints your cunt with long stripes, occasionally inserting his tongue into your entrance. He moans at how sweet you taste, vibrations roaming through your center. "You taste so good, babe." He continues to flick his tongue on you, expertly moving you closer to the edge.

"Oh, shit. I'm so close, make me cum. Please." Waves of pleasure are crashing over you, your whole body is fizzing. The knot inside you wants so badly to snap, to release the built up pressure you've been feeling all day.

"That's a good little slut, cum for me." He says before sucking your clit into his mouth. It feels unbelievable, and you finally sense yourself letting go.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You cry out, almost screaming. Your orgasm rips through you, radiating from your pussy to all of your extremities. Your head feels light, and stars fill your vision. Your legs shake uncontrollably, but Eddie holds you in place. His mouth continues to work against your cunt as your high subsides. Your clit is sparking, and his mouth on you is overstimulating. "Eds, that's enough. Please, it's too much." You pant as you push his head away.

"Sorry, angel. I'll let you cool down." He coos, caressing your legs lovingly. He stands, still shirtless, and goes to the dresser to grab the opened beer. He hands you your bottle, and you sit up to sip on it. The liquid cools you from the inside out, calming the burning flames. Eddie sits at the edge of the bed, his back turned to you as he drinks. You crawl across the bed to sit beside him, putting your free hand on his thigh. He tenses slightly, not expecting your touch. "Hey there, beautiful." He says while smiling at you, looking you up and down. You're still naked, but you don't feel exposed. Eddie’s presence makes you comfortable, you could do anything around him and not feel nervous about it.

"Hey." You reply simply. You finish off your beer, setting the empty bottle on the carpet. Eddie's still holding his while you turn yourself toward him. You lean forward, moving his long hair away from his neck. You kneel to plant a few open-mouthed kisses on his throat. He tilts his head to give you better access, moaning whenever you put your lips on him. Your right hand travels down his chest, caressing his warm skin on the way to his crotch. You ghost over his erection, his breath hitching. You palm him through his jeans, his cock growing harder as you grope him.

"Shit, Y/N." He groans out, his head falling back slightly. You slide off the bed, positioning yourself on your knees between Eddie's legs. You continue to stroke him, kissing his chest and stomach repeatedly. He moans over and over as you touch him, cursing and saying your name, calling you a good girl. He's become putty in your hands.

"You make pretty noises too. It's very sexy." You whisper in his ear, reaching for his belt. You unbuckle it, and pull his jeans off. He's only in his boxers now, his erection forming a tent in the thin cloth. You run your tongue up his length over the fabric, and he moans loudly.

"Jesus." His hands grip the edge of the mattress, the knuckles turning white. You smile at him seductively, reaching for his waistband. You yank off his underwear, and waste no time taking hold of his cock. You take all of him in your mouth, gagging as he hits the back of your throat. His hips buck into your face from the feeling of your wet mouth on him. Your eyes start to water as you bob your head up and down on him. You swirl your tongue around his length as you work, and Eddie can't stop groaning. Every sound makes your pussy wetter, him calling out your name is music to your ears. "Keep going, baby. You're a fuckin’ goddess at giving head." He chuckles slightly, throwing his head back. A couple drips of sweat run down his face, his eyes screwed shut as he focuses on how hot and wet your mouth is. He's panting like a dog, feeling himself growing closer to the edge.

His balls tighten in your hand as you massage them. He's very close, you take this as a sign to go even deeper and faster. You gag repeatedly on him, moving your lips and tongue at a punishing pace. Tears run down your cheeks, blurring your vision. You stop only for a moment to encourage him. "That's it. Be a good boy and cum for me." You plunge your mouth as far as it can go onto his dick, pulling out every move in your playbook, sealing his fate.

"Fuck, gonna cum..." He chokes out as his high overtakes him. He moans so loud, you're worried he'll wake everybody up. His mouth is open wide, and he falls backwards onto the bed as his load shoots down your throat. You swallow every last drop, it tastes so fucking good. He's practically gasping for air, his arms laying above his head. You release him with a pop, and take in the sight before you. Eddie's so pretty like this, laying on your bed with his cock out, shiny with sweat. His hair matted to his face from the moisture, his chest rising and falling rapidly. A wave of lust washes over you to see the effect you've had on him.

He takes a moment to compose himself before sitting up. He's still panting a little, but he looks at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. "C’mere, princess." He motions for you to sit on his lap. You do so, straddling him on the edge of the bed. His dick rests against your stomach, already getting hard again. He wraps his arms around your waist, and yours rest around his neck. You kiss him again, and he reciprocates. Your mouths move together in sync, and you feel something different between you now. This moment isn't just about sex, you think you really like Eddie. You might even be falling in love with him. And given the way he's keeping up with you, maybe he’s falling in love with you ,too.

Despite all these strong emotions brewing between the two of you, you still want Eddie to take you in every way possible. "Eddie?" You ask, breaking the kiss. Your lips feel bruised, and you gaze deep into his eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He says quietly, meeting your eyes. He's genuinely interested in what you have to say.

"I want you." You whisper, somehow shy about admitting this to him.

"I want you too, Y/N. So much, you have no idea." He replies softly, and his hand cups your cheek. You move yourself closer to him, rubbing his dick between your folds. You moan in unison at the sensation, the air lighting on fire once again. Eddie grabs your ass, leading your hips to continue moving against him. The friction is like pure electricity, shooting currents of ecstasy through your bodies. "Can I fuck you, Y/N?" Eddie asks, a pleading look in his eyes. He's so needy for you.

"Yes, Eddie. Please, take me any way you want." You practically beg him.

He grasps his cock, teasing your entrance a few more times, spreading your arousal. He stops for a moment. "Wait, let me get a condom." He says, tapping your thigh to get off of him. You shake your head, and he looks at you, confused.

"I'm on the pill, Eds. We can still use one if you want, but I trust you."

"That's fine by me. If you're good to go, then so am I." He kisses you deeply, getting himself ready to enter you. You instinctively lift yourself up so he can position himself, and you slowly sink down onto his dick. He fills you to the brim, the perfect size to knock the air from your lungs as you take all of him. You need a moment to adjust, flexing your walls to teasingly clamp around him. "Shit. Do that again." Eddie whimpers, and you grip his cock with your insides. "Jesus, that's fucking hot." He says breathily. You start to move on him, bouncing up and down at a steady pace. The room fills with the sounds of moans and slapping skin. You aren't putting much effort into being quiet, everything feels too good for you to care about anyone hearing you. Eddie's fingers are digging into your ass cheeks, holding your flesh for dear life. His lips attack your tits as best he can as you continue to ride him. Your head is thrown backward in pure bliss as your climax builds, your hands holding his shoulders tightly. The pleasure bubbles in your belly, growing stronger every time you come down on Eddie's cock. He hits your g-spot perfectly, like he was made for you.

"Fuck, Eddie. I'm getting close again. You feel so good inside me." Every move and every touch makes your head spin, it's getting harder to form coherent thoughts.

"I'm close too, baby. Keep going, be a good little slut. Make a mess all over me." He says, a bit muffled as his face is still buried in your tits. His words spur you on, and you ride him even faster, rolling your hips to hit your spot even better. He assists you, meeting your bounces with his own thrusts up into you. You moan loudly every time he pitches his hips upwards. He's chasing your high, wanting to feel you come undone. "C’mon, angel. Cum on my dick like a good girl." His words make your orgasm explode inside of you. Fireworks go off under your skin. Waves of pleasure crash over you, taking you under.

"Oh god, fuck!" You almost scream, curses and exclamations flowing from you incoherently. Your walls clamp down, milking Eddie's cock. He groans, his own orgasm overtaking him. He calls out your name, bucking his hips uncontrollably into your cunt. His movements prolong your high, a burst of juices leaking out of you. He feels the fluid rush over his dick, spilling out onto the floor and the bed. It makes him groan, the sensation is nothing he's ever felt before. He’s already thinking of how many other ways he can make you cum like this in the future. Your legs shake violently, and you hold yourself against Eddie as hard as you can to keep from falling. You can't stop shaking for a good while as the strongest orgasm of your life takes what seems like forever to subside.

You eventually collapse against his chest, gulping in air like a fish out of water. Eddie's arms wrap around you, a hand stroking your damp hair. "You okay, Y/N?" He sounds concerned, he's never seen a girl cum so hard before. He's worried that he may have hurt you.

"I'm good, Eds. Really good.” You giggle in satisfaction. “That has to be the best orgasm I've ever had. I didn't even know I could do that. It wasn't weird, was it?" You ask, referring to you squirting on him. You’re a bit nervous that you’ve grossed him out.

"What? Fuck no! That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen. I've heard about women being able to do that, but I’ve never experienced it before.” He explains excitedly, glad to have made this discovery about you. “You are something special. In more ways than just that, Y/N."

"I'll have you know I'm just full of surprises, baby." You give him a quick kiss, smiling like a dope. You realize his dick is still inside you, so you carefully pull yourself off of him. Your mixed release drips out of you and onto his length, you both stare at the sight and moan quietly. You don't want to risk being caught naked in the hall to retrieve a towel, so you drop to your knees in front of Eddie. You lick up every last drop of your cum, causing him to shudder as he stares at you in shock.

"Goddamn, can you get any sexier, Y/N?" His eyes are wide, jaw on the floor as he watches you swallow every last drop.

"You'll just have to wait and find out next time, won't you?" You smirk at him, standing up.

"Next time, huh?" He quirks an eyebrow at you. You realize what you’ve implied, blushing harshly. Eddie rolls his eyes. "Relax, sweetheart. Of course I want to do this again, among other things. It's a date!" He beams at you, and your expression softens. You fail to hold back a yawn, and Eddie follows suit. "It’s gettin’ pretty late. Should we go to bed?" He asks, slipping his boxers back on. He grabs his Hellfire shirt, tossing it to you along with your panties.

"You want me to wear your shirt?" You're surprised he'd offer you something so personal. But you can't help falling for him just a little bit more because of it.

"Of course! Gotta let everyone know you're mine, right?" He bites his lip, nervous about suggesting that you belong to him. Did I overstep and ruin everything?, he wonders when you don’t respond right away.

"Yours, huh? So that makes you mine then, correct?" You can't help teasing him a little, seeing his face burn red is so endearing.

"Yeah. Uh, i-if you want." He stutters over his words, looking down at his hands. He fidgets with his rings, twisting them around his fingers. His knee bounces, signaling his anxiety. You reach down, stilling his leg. You put your hand over his, and use the other to lift his chin up to you with your finger. You stare deep into his eyes, trying to show him how you want this just as much as he does.

"There's no need to be nervous, Eds. I'll happily be yours, I really like you. I might even be falling for you." You kiss him gently on the lips, but only for a moment. "Now, let’s get some rest. Got a big day tomorrow." You give him a caring look, and he kindly returns it, nodding. You put his shirt on over your head, and he smiles wide when he sees you in it. It's a bit big on you, almost long enough to be a dress. But you would look beautiful to him no matter what. You walk over to the bed, pulling up the covers to slip underneath them. Eddie crawls over to join you.

Once you're both under the blanket, Eddie pulls you close to him, spooning you. He peppers light kisses onto the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you. When he notices your breathing going steady in preparation for sleep, he stops kissing you. "Goodnight, princess. Sleep well." He says before closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Eds." You reply, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

To be continued…

#fanfiction #smut #eddie munson #stranger things #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #into the fire #hippiegoth97

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Your father starts to suspect that Leon is involved with the attacks on the hikers, causing you two to get into a heated argument that leads to your father kicking you out. Lucky for you, Leon welcomes you into his home with open arms

Word Count: 7.3k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, period cunnilingus/s3x, somno, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

This part does contain period cunnilingus, s3x and somno. I have marked the beginning and end of this segment with ✧⭒⭒✧ that way you can skip it if that is not your thing

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

“Do you want to press charges, Leon?” Chief Bob asks as he walks back into his office, sitting behind his desk.

“No, it’s fine Chief Dion. It was clearly just a misunderstanding,” Leon replies; both of you are sitting on the bench across from Chief Bob’s desk again, both his arms wrapped around you.

“Alright,” Chief Bob says with a nod, “I had one of the EMTs run him over to Speare Memorial Hospital to get his nose checked out, then he should be fine to be released. Now then, tell me everything leading up to when you found Nate."

Chief Bob pulls out a notepad and both of you explain to him the events leading up to when you found Nate. You recall the two college boys that you had encountered on the trail when… when Leon was kissing you. How they didn’t smell what you smelled is beyond you. Your mind wanders back to that moment at the Basin, Leon’s muscular body pinning you to the fence while he practically devoured you. You can still feel the traces of his hands roaming down your body to settle onto your waist.

And now, he has you wrapped in his embrace as his fingers comb through your hair. You take deep breaths, taking in the smell of his cologne and his leather jacket.

“I want to thank you both for your bravery in finding Nate. I can’t say I blame those two boys you saw for not checking out the smell. I know that must have been a traumatic experience, but the information you provided will aid in the investigation into what attacked and killed him. You’re both free to go.”

“Thank you Chief Dion,” Leon replies, standing up, taking you with him, “let’s get you home, angel.”

Angel. He’s been calling you that ever since he kissed you. You thought him calling you sweetheart made you flustered; angel is on a whole new level. It makes your heart practically pound out of your chest. Back out in the parking lot, Leon opens the passenger’s side door and you climb into the Jeep while Leon walks around, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“My car is still at your house…” you say as you put on your seat belt.

“I know, it’s fine. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. Right now I think home is the best place for you.”

“Thank you, Leon.”

The drive from the police station to your house is about five minutes. In the back of your mind you wonder how Leon knew where you lived without you telling him, but you’re way too exhausted to question it. Leon pulls into your driveway and both of you get out, which puzzles you because you figured he is just dropping you off.

“You’re coming in?” you ask, tilting your head as you both walk up to the front door.

“Yeah, I figured I’d at least apologize for breaking your Dad’s nose.”

You can’t help but let out a soft chuckle as you open the front door, leading Leon inside your house. Your mother, standing in the kitchen, looking out the window over the kitchen sink, looks at you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness you’re ok! When Terry at the police station called, we were worried sick-- where’s your father?”

“He uh…” you begin, but Leon finishes your thought.

“There was a slight misunderstanding between himself and I at the station and we got into a fight. I may have accidentally broken his nose defending myself.”

“Mick attacked you?!” your mother exclaims, clearly mortified, “oh my god Leon I’m so sorry! Please, have a seat at the dining table, let me at least treat you to dinner.”

“Ma’am I promise you it’s fine--”

“You’re better off just letting her feed you, she won’t stop until you do,” you tell Leon with a giggle.

Leon lets out a chuckle, turning his attention back to your mother, “alright. I’d love to join you for dinner.”

“Go ahead and have a seat at the table, Leon. Hopefully Mick comes back and can fire up the grill for some burgers,” your mother says as she takes a bag of frozen french fries out of the fridge.

You and Leon sit at the table next to each other, Leon’s hand rests on top of yours, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. As if on queue, the door to the garage suddenly opens, your father walking in. He appears to have some kind of cast on his nose.

He stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Leon seated at the dining table next to you, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

“Mick!” your mother scolds him as she gets the fries laid out onto a cooking sheet, “get the grill fired up so we can have some burgers. It’s the least you can do for attacking him.”

Mick groans, walking over to a plate where your mother had already made some beef patties. He looks over at Leon, narrowing his eyes at him.

“How do you want your burger, Leon?”

Leon looks over at your father, smirking at him, “as rare as you can make it, please.”

“Jesus… ok…”

Your father grabs the plate, opening a drawer to grab grilling supplies before heading out a sliding glass door to the backyard. Meanwhile, your mother gets the fries into the oven, setting a timer before she takes a seat at the dining table.

“So, Leon, what do you do for a living?” your mother asks, folding her arms in front of her.

“Well… I’m technically retired actually. I can’t go into too much detail because it’s classified but I used to be a kind of government agent,” Leon replies.

“You’re retired at 36? Good for you! You must get a pretty good pension then?”

Leon chuckles, his cheeks turning a touch pink, “you could say that, yes.”

You watch your mother glance where Leon’s hand is resting on yours, looking back to him and smiling, “is it safe to assume that you’re interested in our daughter?”

Leon’s hand immediately moves off yours, “ma’am I meant no--”

“Leon it’s fine, I’m not like Mick. It’s very clear that the two of you like each other. All I ask is that you treat her right.”

“Of course,” Leon replies, putting his hand back onto yours, making you blush a bit.

Your father comes back inside with the cooked burgers, setting the plate down onto the counter, “Leon’s barely cooked one is the one off to the side there.”

Your mother stands up from the table and begins putting the burgers together. Within a few minutes, the timer goes off letting her know the fries are done. She takes the fries out of the oven, plating them with the made up burgers.

She starts by getting Leon’s plate to him, “here you go, sweetie.”

“Thanks ma’am,” Leon replies.

“Oh please, call me Sandi. There’s no need to be formal here.”

Once all the plates are distributed, both your father and mother seat themselves at the table. You take a bite of your burger, looking over at Leon as he bites into his. You notice as he bites into his burger that his canine teeth seem to be really long and sharp. Leon notices you looking at him, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards you in acknowledgement. You shake your head, drawing your attention back to your burger. You’re probably just imagining things from all the stress today.

You all eat in silence, watching your father shoot daggers in Leon’s direction with his eyes occasionally. When the two of you finish dinner, you quietly excuse yourself to your bedroom, Leon following close behind you. Your father begins to protest, but you watch as your mother smacks his shoulder with the back of her hand. You head up the stairs, the heavy footfalls of Leon’s boots following behind you. Reaching the top, you walk up to your bedroom, grasping the handle, hesitating momentarily before opening it.

“Excuse the decor, this room hadn’t been touched since I was in high school. I’m still trying to get all the posters down.”

“No judgment from me, angel.” you hear him reply, your heart immediately fluttering in your chest as you turn the knob to open your bedroom door.

You walk into your bedroom, walking over to your bed and sitting on the side of it. Leon steps into the bedroom as well, closing the door behind him before walking over to the bed, sitting next to you. He turns towards you, his hand coming up to gently grasp the side of your neck, a playful smirk crossing his lips.

“Now then, where was I?”

Before you can even prepare yourself, Leon’s lips seal over yours, his hands grasping at your body as you shift yourself onto your bed even more. Leon wastes no time gently pushing you down onto your bed, caging you with his body as he continues to kiss you. His lips move from your mouth, to your cheek then finally trailing down to your neck. His name escapes your lips in a soft moan as your right hand runs through his hair. You feel his teeth gently graze your neck before he begins sucking love marks into the side of your neck. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of your own pleasure when Leon suddenly stops, staring down at you, his blue eyes so dilated that his eyes almost look black.

“I should probably get going,” Leon whispers, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead before he climbs off of you, standing back up.

“Do you have to…?” you ask, your voice pleading for him to stay as you sit up, once again sitting on the side of your bed.

“I do, I’m sorry angel. I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up, I promise.”

You stand up, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. You feel him wrap his arms around your body, feeling his lips kiss the top of your head. After a few minutes, he lets go and both of you leave the bedroom, heading downstairs. You open the front door for him, both of you stepping out into the night. Leon leans down, giving you one last kiss on the lips before he turns, walking back to his Jeep, climbing inside and starting the engine. You lean against the threshold of the front door, watching Leon drive off into the night, your heart still pounding in your chest.

“How about that guy at the Basin today, huh Jake?”

Jake had been zoning out, staring at the small fire he and his best friend, Brad, had built off of one of the trails leading up to the summit of Mt. Liberty. His attention snaps to Brad, who has a shit eating grin on his face; he matches him with his own.

“Yeah dude, I thought for sure that glare was going to set us on fire. Do you think if we hadn’t said anything that they would have started fucking right there?”

“Oh no doubt,” Brad replies, grabbing a stick from beside him, using it to poke at the small fire, “you could tell she was really into it, too.”

For a few minutes, the two make small talk and crack jokes as they share a pipe filled with marijuana, each of them taking several hits on it. Brad suddenly stands up.

“I gotta take a massive piss, be right back,” Brad declares as he turns and heads into the depths of the woods.

“Watch out for hiker-eating monsters, might take a bite of your dick!” Jake says with a laugh as he takes another hit from the pipe, blowing out a large cloud of smoke from his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up Jake!” Brad calls out to him from within the woods.

Jake snickers, clearly amused with himself as he takes a few more hits off the pipe. He can hear rustling coming from the direction Brad had went, but passes it off to just being Brad until--

“Jesus Christ what the fuck is THAT?!”

“Brad?!” Jake calls out, reaching down to his bag to pull out a hunting knife and a flashlight, turning it on.

Immediately Jake hears Brad screaming, his voice carrying further away from the camp, so Jake makes chase.

“Brad! Where are you?! Are you ok?!” Jake calls out continually as he runs deeper and deeper into the woods.

He suddenly stops in his tracks when he starts to see blood splattered all over the ground, his flashlight slowly making its way to the source. What the flashlight finally settles on is almost incomprehensible. It is a man, but… not. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of dark colored cargo pants with work boots. Dark veins sprawl across the exposed skin, but that’s not the weirdest part.

Four claw-like appendages are coming out of the man's back and a long, scorpion-like tail moves back and forth. The man’s mouth is latched onto his best friend’s neck, clearly sucking the blood out of him as the flashlight settles onto the man’s face; the flashlight can be seen visibly shaking. The man has short blonde hair with piercing red eyes that immediately shift to focus on Jake. The man… no… the creature takes its mouth off his friend, revealing two long, sharp canine teeth, reminiscent of a vampire. Blood drips from the fangs and its mouth as it starts to grin at Jake; it’s tongue licking the blood off its fangs.

“Holy fucking shit…” Jake mutters as he starts to walk backwards away from the creature.

The creature suddenly lunges at Jake, causing Jake to stumble backwards and start running as fast as he can in what he believes is the direction he came from. Jake tries hard not to look back to see if the creature is pursuing him. Unfortunately for him, though, his foot gets caught on a tree root that is sticking out of the ground, his ankle making a loud pop sound as he’s thrown onto the ground. The flashlight and hunting knife slip out of his hands, landing several feet away, landing so that the flashlight is pointing backwards from whence he came.

Jake hisses, turning onto his back before sitting up to check on his ankle; it’s clearly either broken or severely dislocated. Jake can hear footsteps, his gaze shifting up as they approach. He watches as boots appear in the flashlight’s beam, and as the creature stalks closer, he sees that it's standing upright, its back claws flexing and tail swinging back and forth as it gets even closer; soon Jake can see blood has dripped down onto the creature’s chest, the black veins on its skin now appearing darker than they had earlier. The creature’s blood stained mouth is smirking at him.

The last thing Jake remembers is the creature descending upon him, its mouth latching onto his neck as its fangs pierce into his skin. His blood curdling scream cut short when his throat is ripped out.

A couple days pass after you and Leon had found Nate dead, you wake up to get ready to go work at Leon’s house with the worst abdominal cramps. You almost roll out of bed, going into the bathroom after picking out your outfit for the day to find that you had unfortunately started your period and it had completely ruined your underwear. Sighing in frustration, you throw the underwear into the trash in the bathroom, opening up the medicine cabinet to take some Tylenol for the cramps.

After getting yourself cleaned up and dressed, you head downstairs into the kitchen to make yourself some toast for breakfast, clenching your lower stomach in an attempt to ease the pain, praying to every deity that the Tylenol would kick in soon.

“Oh sweetie, you don’t look so good! Are you alright?” you hear your mother ask as she comes into the kitchen.

“Yeah I’m ok, I got my… you know… I just took some Tylenol so that should hopefully kick in soon.”

Your mother walks over to the radio, turning it on before she then walks over to the coffee maker, hitting the button on it so that it would start brewing.

“So… what’s on the agenda today for my favorite remodeling couple?” your mother asks, giving you a playful smile.

You giggle, your cheeks turning red, “we should be finally finishing up the kitchen today. I think he wants to start the living room next.”

“Breaking news, authorities have now reported that two more hikers have gone missing in--”

“Mom, turn up the radio!”

Your mother turns her attention to the radio, turning up the volume.

“--Fish and Game officials have now officially closed all trails in Franconia Notch until the animal responsible can be found and euthanized.”

“Oh my god…”

“Quick let’s turn on Channel 9,” your mother says, grabbing your hand and leading you into the living room where she turns on the TV to the news.

“Good morning, New Hampshire. This just in, Fish and Game have just reported that two more hikers have been reported as missing. 22 year old Brad Shaw and 21 year old Jacob Duprey, both students at Plymouth State University were reported missing by University officials when they did not come back to campus for their classes--”

The picture of the two of them comes up on the TV, your eyes widen as you cover your mouth in shock.

“What is it, sweetie? Do you know them?”

“I didn’t know them, but Leon and I saw them the same day we found Nate dead on the Basin trail…”

“They should have closed the trails long before now… those poor hikers…”

Your father comes in, stopping to watch the news report playing on the TV, “Does anyone else think it’s odd that these attacks started happening shortly after Leon moved into Archie Mason’s place?”

Both you and your mother turn and look at your father; you raise an eyebrow at him, “Dad, you can’t be serious…”

“I am serious! The attacks started happening within a week of him showing up!”

“Dad, I saw Nate. There is no way a person could have done that to him!” you reply, raising your voice as you turn to face your father, approaching him.

“Then what else could it be then, huh?! How else do you explain what’s going on around here? He has to be connected somehow!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to see him!”

“Mick stop--”

“No Sandi, I won’t stop! There is something not right about him, I’m sure of it!”

“Honey now you just sound ridiculous…” your mom replies, stepping between you and your father, putting her hands on his shoulders.

“When he broke my nose… I didn’t like the look in his eyes… it wasn’t right… something isn’t right, god dammit!”

“Dad, come on!” you say, throwing your hands into the air and turning to go back into the kitchen to grab your toast.

“You get back here young lady! We’re not done!” your father roars from the living room, your mother now physically restraining him.

“I need to go to Leon’s house to work and you’re not stopping me,” you say, walking over to the coat rack next to the front door and putting on your denim jacket.

“You walk out that door and you are NOT allowed back, do you hear me?!” your father’s voice booms through the house.

“Mick, what is the matter with you?!” you hear your mother interject.

As much as your father got on your nerves sometimes, the statement hit deep and it hit hard, causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes as you grab your purse. You walk up to the front door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. You blink your eyes shut, a tear running down your cheek as you wrestle with your conflicting emotions. Surely your father wasn’t being serious, right? You push the door open; as you step out you can hear your father shouting after you. You rush over to your car, whipping the door open and getting in just as your father bursts out the front door, his face red in rage as he stomps over, slapping his hands onto the hood of your car as you start it.

You immediately throw the car in reverse, backing out into the street and peeling off, your tires squealing on the pavement as you make the drive to Leon’s; at this point, tears are now streaming down your face. You could only hope that your mother could talk your father down. You get there in record time; it’s a miracle you didn’t run into any cops and get pulled over, however, you reckon they’re probably out looking for the latest hikers to go missing. Parking your car in its usual spot outside of Leon’s house, you go inside, dropping off your jacket and purse before proceeding to the kitchen.

Leon is already hard at work, installing the last of the kitchen cabinets. He hears you come in, he turns to you, giving you his trademark smirk that never fails to give you butterflies.

“Mornin’ angel!” he says, suddenly noticing your eyes are red and puffy, “hey… what’s wrong?”

You waste no time grabbing your paint roller and paint, pouring some into the pan before rolling the paint roller in it, “sorry… I got into a fight with my Dad this morning before coming here.”

“About what?”

You stop just before you begin to roll paint onto the wall, taking a deep breath before you reply, “about you. He thinks you’re somehow involved with the attacks on the hikers.”

Leon scoffs, “that’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what my Mom and I said, but he wasn’t having any of it. He said to me just as I was leaving that if ‘I walked out that door that I wouldn’t be allowed back.’”

Leon shakes his head, groaning in disgust, “I really don’t like how he treats you, angel.”

“I’m just hoping Mom can talk to him, get him to see just how ridiculous he sounded that way I feel better going home tonight.”

“Stay here tonight.”

Your eyes widen as you look over at him, “Leon, I can’t ask that of you.”

“It would make me feel better if you stay here tonight. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Leon, I'll be fine, I promise. My Dad would never hurt me,” you reply, focusing on finishing painting the last kitchen wall.

“You seem to be forgetting that your father tried to strangle me.” Leon said in a ‘as a matter of fact’ kind of tone.

The worst part is, he’s right. Your father had tried to strangle him. Your father has always been quick to anger but you’d never seen him lay a finger on anyone until that day in the police station. Your father was clearly becoming more and more unhinged; especially with this recent allegation that Leon is somehow involved with the hiker attacks.

“Alright… I’ll stay here tonight.”

Immediately you notice Leon’s whole expression light up before he returns his focus on the final kitchen cabinet. The two of you finally finish up the kitchen, it being late afternoon by the time you do so. Both of you work on moving the supplies into the living room, but as you start to pour more paint into the pan Leon stops you.

“Let’s call it a day, angel. We can start the living room tomorrow since you’ll already be here.”

You nod, putting the lid back on the paint, grabbing a nearby hammer to hammer the lid back down. You sense Leon walk up from behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He gently rocks you back and forth before placing a kiss onto your cheek.

“Want me to order us some pizza, angel?”

“That sounds perfect, Leon,” you reply; you can’t help but smile.

He places another kiss on your cheek before walking back into the kitchen, you hear him pick up the phone that’s hanging up on the wall in there and place an order for delivery. About 45 minutes later, the pizza arrives and Leon gets it, paying the delivery driver before coming into the living room with it while you relax on the couch, channel surfing on his TV.

“Go ahead and dig in, I have to check something in the basement really quick, ok?” he says as he sets the pizza box onto the coffee table, giving you a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You watch him go out into the hallway, approaching the padlocked door. He takes his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the padlock and opening the door, listening to him descend the stairs. There’s a part of you that wants to follow him into the basement, just to see what is down there, but you don’t, you remain on the couch as you open up the pizza box, grabbing a slice and biting into it. Some time passes, however, and Leon still hasn’t come back up yet. Before you can decide to go check on him, you hear him coming up the stairs, watching as he walks out, locking the door with the padlock before joining you on the couch.

He positions himself so that he’s behind you, having you seated between his legs as the two of you lay on the couch, eating pizza and watching some sitcom that you landed on as you were channel surfing. Your lower stomach suddenly cramps up, causing you to visibly and audibly wince in pain.

Leon immediately notices, “you ok, angel?”

“Yeah sorry… this is probably too much information but I started my period this morning. The Tylenol I took this morning must be wearing off.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Leon whispers in your ear, his hand snaking its way to your lower stomach, massaging his hand into it as he gives you gentle kisses on the side of your neck.

Despite your cramps, his touch felt incredible and you find yourself turning into putty in his embrace. You’re suddenly startled by the sound of Leon’s phone ringing from the kitchen.

“Something tells me that’s my father, I’ll go answer it.” you say as you get up off the couch.

“You sure, angel? I can get it,” Leon replies as he gets up, following behind you.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” you say, walking into the kitchen, picking up the ringing phone, “hello? Kennedy residence.”

“Of course you’re still at his house…” you hear your father say on the other end, you look over at Leon, giving him a slight nod to let him know your suspicions had been correct.

“Hello to you, too, Dad,” you say, trying to make your irritation clear in your voice.

“You need to come home right now.”

“Really? Because I clearly remember you saying if I went to work this morning that I wouldn’t be welcomed back.”

“Well I’d rather you be here than with him. If you don’t come home, I will call the police.”

“Dad, you can’t call the cops, I’m an adult!”

At this point, Leon must have had enough because he steps up beside you, grabbing the phone from you, “if you call the cops, Mick, I will report you for making a false report. I used to be a cop; you can’t pull the wool over my eyes.”

He used to be a cop? you think to yourself, biting your bottom lip as you picture him in a police uniform.

You can’t understand what your father is saying to him, but you can tell he’s yelling because Leon holds the phone about a half an inch away from his ear, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“Well since you’re so keen on shoving your nose where it doesn’t belong, will you stop yelling at me long enough to explain?”

You watch as Leon brings the phone back to his ear.

“What I’m about to tell you does not get repeated under any circumstances or I will have you arrested. I am a government agent, not a retired one. The branch I work for is called the Division of Security Operations, specializing in dealing with Bio-Organic Weapons, B.O.W.s, and I’ve been sent here to locate and kill a B.O.W. that got loose and is now wreaking havoc on those hiking trails. There. Are you happy now?”

Your eyes widen in shock not only at Leon’s admission, but at the fact there is some kind of weapon… a monster, loose in the forest.

“Yeah I hope you’re fucking sorry,” Leon continues, “however she’s still staying with me. In fact, I might even have her move in with me, if she wants to, of course.”

Leon looks over at you, giving you a playful wink as you digest what he just said. You feel your stomach twist into knots.

“Your days of controlling your daughter are over, you hear me? She and I will have a chat about her moving in and you’re going to accept whatever she decides to do. Take care of yourself, Mick,” Leon finishes as he slams the phone back on the receiver.

The two of you stand by the phone in silence, your mind spinning.

“I know that was probably a lot to take in just now, but unfortunately the same applies to you, if you repeat that to anyone, I’ll have to have you arrested, too,” Leon says as he places his hands on your hips, pulling you gently to him.

You quickly shake your head, looking up into his ocean eyes, “o-of course not! I won’t say a word to anyone, promise!”

“Good girl,” he purrs, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips.

After the two of you break the kiss, you continue, “do you really want me to move in with you? You don’t think that’ll be moving too fast?”

Leon smiles down at you, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life, angel.”

You gather that Leon can feel your hesitation, he wraps his arms around you in a protective hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Stay here for a few nights, then see how you feel, how does that sound?”

“O-Ok… I can do that, Leon.”

Leon is in heaven, or at least as close to heaven as he’ll ever get. After getting his angel to stay with him at least a couple nights, he got her back into the living room and back onto the couch, where he has her between his legs, his arms wrapped around her as the both of them ate the pizza he ordered and mindlessly watched TV.

He was grateful that her father had called, having pulled the government agent story out of nowhere to get Mick off his ass, at least until he could find a way to get him out of the picture. He is clearly protective of his offspring and for Leon, that is a problem; he may have gotten Mick off his ass now, but it was only a matter of time before Mick would be back on it again.

The subtle scent of blood lingers in the air, he smelled it as soon as his angel had come into the house. She didn’t have to tell him she was on her cycle, he already knew. He had to make an impromptu trip into the basement to quench his thirst because of it. As the night wears on, he feels her become totally limp in his embrace as sleep takes her. He takes the remote from her hands, flipping it to the news where they’re reporting on the two missing hikers from Plymouth State University. What would his angel do if she knew one of them was in the basement right at this moment, barely clinging to life to serve as his meal?

It was a good thing he grabbed the other hiker and brought him here as he watches the report that they’re closing all the hiking trails in Franconia Notch. He’d have to find another way to get his meals. He might have to expand his hunting radius but he’d worry about that later. Soft snores from his angel break his thoughts, he looks down at her, giving her a gentle smile. He slowly moves out from under her before picking her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style up to his bedroom. Once in his bedroom, he approaches the bed, gently laying her onto it. She stirs in her sleep, her eyes opening slowly.

“Leon?” her voice barely a whisper as she fights her fatigue.

“I just brought you up to the bedroom, it’s ok,” he replies, running his fingers through her hair, “go ahead and get yourself comfortable, I’ll just be in the bathroom for a minute.”

Going into the bathroom, he turns on the light and shuts the door behind him. Pulling off his shirt, he lets himself relax for a minute; the black veins slowly appear as they sprawl over his skin, his eyes turning red as he stares at himself in the mirror. He’s hopeful that he won’t have to hide his true nature from her for too much longer; once he gives her his gift, he’ll show her that he’s the perfect mate for her.

He inhales deeply, rolling his head; slowly the black veins start to disappear once more and his eyes are back to their brilliant ocean blue. Discarding his pants and boxers, he finds a pair of gray sweatpants, putting them on before opening the bathroom door back up and shutting the bathroom light off. He sees she’s under the covers, her shirt and pants laying in a pile next to the bed. He approaches the opposite side of the bed where she lay, getting himself under the covers with her, wrapping his arms around her as he closes his eyes.

✧⭒⭒✧

However, no matter how much he chases sleep, it never comes. The subtle scent of blood is still driving his hunger wild. Meanwhile, she is sound asleep on her side; he watches as her chest gently rises and falls with each breath she takes. He gingerly tosses the covers off of both of them, admiring her nearly nude form. He fought with himself for a moment, not wanting to feed off her to sate his hunger; then, he has an idea.

He positions himself at the end of the bed, gently rolling her so that she’s on her back. Hooking his fingers onto the hem of her underwear, he slowly pulls them down off her, slipping them off her legs before tossing them onto the floor with the rest of her clothes. He gently parts her legs, taking a moment to admire her cunt; he practically salivates when he sees the telltale string coming out of her. He climbs on top of her, being careful not to wake her as he wraps his index and middle finger around the tampon string, slowly pulling it free. Once it’s out of her, he climbs off her, walking into the bathroom for a moment to discard it before coming back to her, nestling himself between her legs. The smell of her blood is overwhelming now as he brings himself within inches of her hole.

His fangs descend in his mouth, but he doesn’t care, she won't be able to see them in the low light, not like he can see her. He runs his tongue up her slit, his lips then sealing themselves over her clit as he gently sucks on the sensitive bud. He then slips two fingers inside her, curling them upwards inside her to stimulate her g-spot; he hears her moan softly, her hips gently shifting beneath him.

“Wha--” he hears her say as she rouses from her slumber, quickly realizing he is in between her legs, “L-Leon! What are you doing?!”

He unlatches himself from her clit, looking up at her and smiling while he continues to fuck her with his fingers, “shhhhh it’s ok… just let me take care of you. It’ll help your cramps, I promise.”

“But I’m on my-- oh my god…!” she attempts to protest, but is cut off by her own moan as she lays her head back onto her pillow.

He watches with delight as her hips move in time with his fingers digging into her, his pupils dilating as blood begins to seep onto his fingers.

“Doesn’t that feel good, angel?” he purrs as he slowly pulls his fingers out of her, taking a moment to clean his fingers off like a lollipop.

The sudden wave of euphoria hits him like a train; her blood tastes divine, unlike anything he has ever tasted ever since he was given his gift. Looping his arms around her thighs, his mouth dives back between her legs, his tongue forcing its way inside her. He lets out a low growl as her blood flows into his mouth, unable to contain himself as he fucks her with his tongue. Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair, pushing down so that he stays there; clearly she’s enjoying herself, much to his delight.

Her legs violently tremble in his grasp as she edges closer and closer to her release and he doesn’t relent, his nose pressing into her swollen clit as his tongue continues to devour her. With a loud cry, she finally comes on his tongue, a mix of her arousal and her blood flowing freely into his mouth, which he happily swallows. He reluctantly unlatches his mouth from her entrance, blood dripping down his lips and chin and onto the sheets. As much as he wants to lick her blood off his lips, he doesn’t, instead wiping it from his mouth on the back of his forearm before he proceeds to slip off his sweatpants, his erection springing free from its fabric prison.

He strokes himself momentarily before he settles his hips between her legs, pressing the head of his cock against her hole. Before he pushes himself inside her, her hand comes up, pressing against his chest to stop him.

“Do you have protection?” she asks, the nervousness clear in her voice.

“I mean, I have a 9mm in my nightstand…”

She playfully punches his shoulder as she giggles, “that’s not what I mean!”

He lets out a chuckle, clearly amused with himself, “unfortunately I wasn’t expecting you to stay the night, so I didn’t think to buy condoms, angel. We can stop now if you want to.”

Please, don’t say stop.

“Promise you’ll pull out,” she says softly, her arms caressing his biceps as she looks up at him longingly, "I want this… I want you…"

He smiles down at her, relieved, as he brings his hand up to caress her cheek, “I promise.”

She gives him a gentle nod, giving him the ok to continue, shifting his gaze down to where their two bodies meet as he slowly pushes himself inside her. It takes everything in him to take it easy with her, his primal need to breed screaming in his subconscious.

He stops about halfway inside her, looking back up into her eyes, “let me know if it hurts, ok?”

“It’s fine… it actually feels really nice. Keep going,” she replies, he smiles when her cheeks start to turn red; he loves how flustered she gets around him.

He then continues to push himself inside her until he’s balls deep. He can already feel her squeeze around his cock; a miracle that didn’t make him cum on the spot.

“I’m going to start moving now, ready?” he whispers, stroking her cheek again to reassure her.

He watches her nod again and he cages her body beneath him as he begins to thrust into her. He leans down, sealing his lips over hers, moaning into the kiss as her arms wrap around him.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so fucking tight… you’re perfect…” Leon growls, his thrusts becoming faster and more powerful.

“Leon… oh f-fuck…! I’m… oh god…!” she cries out, becoming a moaning mess as he pounds into her.

With each thrust he feels the head of his cock kiss her cervix, driving his instinct to breed her wild. He sits up onto his knees, grabbing her legs and looping his arms around them as he chases his release. His angel cries out, feeling her grab his forearms as she cums on his cock. The feeling of her release nearly pushes him over the edge; he pulls out of her before that happens, giving himself powerful strokes with his hand before ropes of cum spill onto her stomach, marking her as his.

As both of them come down from their high, he stares down at her, admiring how lovely she looks covered in his seed, even though he’d rather have it inside her, leaking out of her hole. Subtle movement in his seed catches his attention; a larva from his gift squirming about. Before she has a chance to notice it, he reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing the box of tissues from it and pulling out a few sheets.

“Such a dirty girl you are, angel,” he coos, cleaning up his cum along with the larvae.

Thankfully, she's too cock drunk to even realize what he just cleaned up, her eyes closed as she takes deep, heavy breaths as her body trembles beneath him from her own orgasm.

He takes a moment to lick her blood from his hand while his angel’s eyes are closed. Standing up from the bed, he leans down and places several kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

“How was that, angel?” he asks, smirking.

He watches her eyes slowly open, looking at him with complete admiration as she continues to take deep breaths, “that was perfect. You were right, it did actually help with the cramps.”

“It’s like I know what I’m talking about,” he replies with a chuckle as he gently coaxes her out of bed by taking hold of one of her hands, “come here, angel, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep, hm?”

The two of them go into the bathroom, Leon making sure to toss the tissue into the toilet and flushing it before the two of you get into the shower to clean up. Once finished, he guides her back into bed, holding her in his protective embrace as they both drift off to sleep.

✧⭒⭒✧

The next morning, the sound of pounding at the front door awakens him, his eyes slowly opening as he lets out a groan. The pounding at the door continues, which causes his angel to stir in her sleep.

“What’s that noise… Leon…?” she asks, her voice slurred from her slumber.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to go check, keep getting rest, angel,” he replies, giving her a kiss on the top of her head as he climbs out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants and putting them back on before heading downstairs to answer the door, “I’m coming, you can stop pounding my door down!”

“Good morning Leon, sorry to bother you,” Chief Dion says as Leon opens the door, “got a few minutes to chat?”

Part 5

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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jflemings · 6 months

Note

would you minds sharing any random jessie relationship headcanons you have? you write about it so well in your fics pls let us into your brain lol

— my oddly specific gf!jessie headcanons

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

warnings: nsfw & saw

a/n: got this ask and kept it in the drafts so i could just keep adding to it when a thought popped into my head :)

if any of my headcanons inspire fics please please please tag me!!! i’d love to see your take on them <3

- took soooooooo long to ask you out because she kept psyching herself out

- spoke with such confidence that it was honestly a shock to you when she told you she was nervous

- talked about you all the time to her friends and family before they ever actually met you

- introduces you to her sister before the rest of her family (mainly bc elysse begged to meet you)

– she has tiktok only so you can send her videos and you’re the only one she follows

– she takes soooo many photos of you

loves taking embarrassing ones just so she can laugh at them later

– sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door

– is an absolute pain in the ass to go furniture shopping w because she reads everything on the label

– early bird

– not super big on pda but insists on holding your hand everywhere you go

– she doesn’t really celebrate her goals but if she knows you’re in the crowd she’ll point to wherever you’re sitting and blow you a kiss

– if you get married she gets your first initial tattooed on her inner left bicep closest to her heart

– easily embarrassed by compliments

– likes to read her book with your head in her lap

– makes the best bacon and eggs, i don’t make the rules

– if you drink coffee you can bet your ass she memorised your order the first time y’all went out for coffee

– super clingy in the mornings

– makes a playlist of songs that reminds her of you/your relationship

– very attentive gift giver, will take note of even the smallest things you say you like for future reference

– if you’re a reader she’s got your tbr in her notes app so that if she sees a book you’ve been meaning to read she can just get it for you

– likes to give and receive flowers

– a rambler, she’ll talk your ear off if she gets talking about something she really enjoys

that includes you, she talks about you to her teammates all the time

– secret avid pet name user

babe, baby, my girl, sunshine, ALL OF THEM

- blanket hog

- the two of you make a pact to learn something new by the end of the year and she chooses to learn how to play the fucking harmonica

- she gets rlly good at it tho

- picks out your outfit for game days

- loves having baths with you

doesn’t get to do it often but when she does she goes all out: bath bomb/bath salts, candles, her kindle. the whole lot

- talks during movies if she doesn’t know what’s going on

“why’d he do that” “jess i don’t know, we’re watching the same movie”

- not a big tv series watcher but will sit with you while you watch it

- loves her documentaries though

- does a really good david attenborough impression

- is ridiculously competitive when it comes to monopoly and twister

- which is funny because she’s shit at twister

- likes to be close to you at all times

if the whole couch is free she’ll still sit next to you, thigh to thigh

- doesn’t like to argue but will if she feels strongly enough about it

- she can honestly be kinda condescending in arguments without even realising it

definitely comes from her role as a leader

- she asks you multiple times through the day what you’re thinking about just because she likes to know what’s going on inside you head

- likes to do normal, everyday things with you like chores. honestly doesn’t even care that she has to vacuum the whole house, she just likes that fact that the two of you are cleaning together

- as clingy as she is she also really likes her alone time and will often take herself to a corner of the house to just mellow out, especially if she’s been around people a lot that day

- she’ll always come and find you with a smile on her face when she’s ready to though

- loves to update you on her day when she’s away. she’s been known to send you photos of anything and everything when she’s with team canada

- likes to get you lil something from every city she visits if she can

- you display all the trinkets she gets you on a shelf

- when you first started dating she’d write you letters as a way to express her emotions because she didn’t feel like she could properly communicate them directly to you

she gives them all to you on your wedding day

- she’s just so so so so in love with you

NSFW

– generally soft during sex unless she’s high off a win, pissed off or been away from you for too long

– is a switch lol

– gets pleasure from you being pleasured, she’d eat you out for hours if you let her because she likes knowing that she can get you off

- also a biiiiiiiiiiiiig fan of using a strap, absolutely loves the way you look when she bottoms out

- is surprisingly vocal in bed

- has a massive praise kink it’s literally insane

- she came untouched once bc she was fucking you w her strap and you were telling her how good she was doing

- likes when you scratch down her back but can’t let you do it often bc of the shared change room

- once went to training with a scratched up back and sam never let her live it down

- isn’t super experienced but she is observant so she figures out what you like really early on

- made it her personal mission to fuck you on every surface of your new place when the two of you moved to portland

- is a big fan of morning sex

- not a big fan of shower sex

- also is a fan of make up sex

- tries to give you as many orgasms as physically possible in one round (four is her record) (she intends to beat it)

- aftercare queen

- is pretty firm with what she does and doesn’t like and isn’t usually one to go out of her comfort zone unless the two of you have discussed it before

- refuses to hit you during sex. she’s just not comfortable with it

- doesn’t really like choking either but she does like having her hand on the base of your neck without applying any pressure

also goes absolutely feral when you do it to her

- definitely prefers to have sex in the comfort of your own home

- the two of you got caught by niamh once because jess was too loud as you ate her out

neither of you could look her in the eye for about a week afterwards and jessie endured so much teasing

- isn’t one to have drunk sex but she does like just having her hands under your bra so she can cup your breasts. she doesn’t know why, it just happens when the two of you are going to bed after a night out

- is the biggest tease in the world

- will rile you up and then pretend she has no idea what she’s doing

- has insane stamina and will go for rounds until she physically can’t

- can get really cocky during sex, especially when she knows you’re about to cum

- if she’s had a really shit day/week she likes to be overstimulated just to get all of her negative emotions out

#pegs answers #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming headcanons #jessie fleming blurb #woso #woso x reader #woso blurb #woso imagine #woso fic #woso headcanons

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nikachansstuff · 3 months

Text

From all the arguments favoring Elucien, the one I have the most trouble understanding is “Elain needs sunshine and Lucien is sunshine.”

Lucien was never once compared to sunshine. I know, the next argument is that he is the heir of the Day Court and Helion was referenced as the sun. But that’s his father, not Lucien. Lucien is always simbolize as flames, lord of fire, fire in his blood, his hair like molten fire and so on. Not once Lucien is described as sun, his inheritance is connected to the spell clever portion of Helion.

You can claim that being son of a character known to be simbolize as sun makes him sunshine too, but I disagree. It doesn’t make sense in my personal interpretation. Simply because SJM is very generous with her figures of speech, and she could include another symbol to Lucien. She gave us lord of fire and fox. Nothing more. To connect inheritance with symbols is a stretch, in my opinion.

The other portion of the argument claiming Elain saying she needs sunshine as foreshadowing also fails to get me on board. The way I see it, Elain was trapped in a murky realm, not able to distinguish between dream and reality. The girl was asking for clarity, for sunlight to release her from that blurry state.

Elain doesn’t need sunshine because she is the sun herself. She is actually one character referenced not once or twice, but multiple times as different phases of the day!

Then Elain's face appeared over Mrs. Laurent's round shoulder. Beautiful-she'd always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn.

"They taste as good as they look." She set down the tray and wiped her flour-coated hands on the apron she wore over her dusty-pink gown. Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine.

The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

Elain is sunshine by her essence. She does not need a source of light, she is the one illuminating everything around her.

Maybe the sunshine Lucien is representing is comprehension? But still, we have Elain saying “He doesn’t know me” with confidence in one of their latest interactions, and that doesn’t seem to change in the current timeline…

I understand the argument about they both needing time to understand their bond. I understand the argument about Elain still grieving her fiancé. But the whole sunshine = foreshadowing one? That one fails to get me on board for Elucien endgame.

For my Elucien mutuals, feel free to give me food for thought. Maybe I understand something wrong and didn’t follow the whole logic. I’m still tagging anti Elucien to not antagonize anyone! If this ends up in your feed, this post is a safe space to share opposing opinions ok? No fights in my house, please.

#acotar #anti elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron

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wholoveseggs · 6 months

Note

Hey,could you do a fic with elijah where she is riding him, but her legs kinda give out, and he needs to take over with daddy and praise kink and maybe a little overstimulation,please 🙏🏻🥺🥺

Pop Quiz - Part Two

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Its been a few weeks since you last saw your professor, and you are feeling insecure about the nature of your relationship. You decide to make a grand gesture to capture his attention. Hopefully it doesn't blow up in your face...

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I finally got around to putting out pop quiz 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡♡

9.5k words (whoops) - Warnings: smut, angst, blowjobs, riding, Klaus being an absolute menace, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, teacher!kink, tinsy bit of roleplay... I even threw in a bit of ancient Greek history...

{Part One}

You were late for class again, and you knew Professor Mikaelson would not be happy about it. You rushed down the hallway and snuck into the classroom, slipping into your seat next to the window.

You could feel his eyes on you, and when you glanced up at the front of the room, his gaze was burning into yours. You shifted in your seat, heat flooding your cheeks, and not just from the way he was looking at you.

The last time you had seen him, he had fucked you so hard you couldn't walk straight for hours afterward.

That was two weeks ago, and you couldn't stop thinking about it.

You couldn't stop thinking about him.

The way his lips felt on yours, the way his cock stretched you, the way his fingers dug into your skin, his low moans echoing in your ears.

"Miss Y/L/N." His deep voice snapped you back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Perhaps you could answer the question I just posed?"

Shit. You hadn't been listening at all.

"Can you repeat the question, sir?"

"Why don't I just repeat the lesson plan from today instead? Since you clearly weren't paying attention." He raised an eyebrow, and you could feel the heat of the room rising.

"I'm sorry, sir," you murmured.

"See me after class, Miss Y/L/N," He said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, and tried to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. Your mind kept drifting back to that night, to the way his hands felt on your body, the way his lips trailed across your skin.

The class seemed to drag on forever, but eventually the other students were packing up their belongings and heading out.

You sat there, staring down at your notes, which were mostly just doodles, waiting for the rest of the class to clear out.

You were trying not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

When the room was finally empty, he stood and locked the door, closing the blinds on the window.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the desk.

You walked over to it and hopped up, your legs dangling off the side.

He moved between them, his hands sliding up your thighs, his eyes locking with yours.

"What am I going to do with you, Miss Y/L/N?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, let's start with you answering my question. What significant event marked the end of the Viking Age in England?"

"The Norman Conquest in 1066."

"Good girl." He praised, his thumbs rubbing circles on the insides of your thighs, his voice making you clench around nothing.

"Tell me, how many times have you touched yourself since the last time I had you spread out on my desk, moaning and begging me for more?" He asked, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

"Too many to count." You breathed, your thighs tightening around his hips, trying to pull him closer.

"Show me," he growled, his hands moving to his belt, unbuckling it and letting it fall open.

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your legs as you watched him pull his cock free from his pants, stroking himself. He pulled up his chair, sitting down in front of you.

"Sir?"

"Show me how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me, sweetheart."

You licked your lips, reaching up under your skirt and pushing your panties aside.

"Good girl," he said, his voice thick with lust.

You rubbed your clit, the pad of your finger pressing into it. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but the way he was looking at you made that nearly impossible.

He continued to stroke his cock, his eyes never leaving yours. You teased yourself, your fingers dipping into your pussy, your wetness coating them. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he watched you, his hand moving faster.

"You look so beautiful, sweetheart," he said, his eyes fixed on yours.

You gasped, slipping two fingers inside yourself.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You moaned, your hips rocking, your pussy clenching around your fingers. You were getting close, and he could tell.

"Come here," he said, his hand dropping to his side.

You removed your fingers and moved forward, dropping to your knees in front of him.

"Yes, sir." You breathed.

He brought the tip of his cock to your lips and you eagerly licked and sucked at the head, your eyes locking with his. You loved seeing the flush on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, his dark eyes hooded.

He slid a hand into your hair, gripping it tightly, pulling you forward. You sucked harder, taking as much of him as you could. He hissed, his fingers pulling your hair.

"You're so good to me, sweetheart," he murmured, his hips thrusting slowly.

You relaxed your jaw and his thrusts became deeper and harder, but not too rough. You moaned around him, your hands resting on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his slacks. He was completely dominating you, and you loved it.

You'd never seen this side of him before, and you were drunk on him. He was filthy, dirty talk falling from his lips, his hand in your hair pulling your face closer to his crotch with each thrust of his hips.

He wasn't the stammering mess he was the first time. He was in control, and you were completely his.

You loved the feel of him in your mouth, the way his hips would jerk whenever he hit the back of your throat, the low growl that came from him as he did.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you took the opportunity to catch your breath. You looked up at him, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his cock glistening with your saliva. He looked almost feral and it was a sight to behold.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," he growled, one of his hands gripping your chin as he dragged his cock across your lips. You stuck your tongue out, licking the underside, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Good girl," he praised, sliding his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him as you moved your tongue along the underside of his cock. He thrust into your mouth over and over, not letting up. He was close and you could feel his legs beginning to tremble.

You met his gaze, letting him see how much you enjoyed doing this, how much it turned you on. That was all it took for him to come undone. He slammed into you, his grip tightening in your hair. You moaned around him, your mouth flooding with his cum.

He slowed his thrusts, his hand loosening in your hair, gently caressing your face as you gave little swallows. His hips stopped moving, but you weren't finished with him yet.

You kept your lips around the head of his cock, lapping at the sensitive tip until you'd licked every last trace of his release away. You released him with a small pop, and looked up at him, hoping you hadn't overstepped.

He was looking at you with nothing short of pure awe, his hand gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nowhere. Just doing what felt good." You blushed.

"Such a natural, such a good girl."

He stood, reaching out to help you up. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him, kissing you. You melted into his kiss, your hands gripping his tie, as his slid down your back to cup your ass.

"I have another class," He sighed, pulling back. "You should get to class, too."

You smoothed your hair and sat back down on his desk, watching as he fastened his pants.

"I missed you," you admitted, a blush creeping across your cheeks. You probably shouldn't have said it, but it was the truth. "I feel like we haven't seen each other in so long."

He smiled, his dimples sending a pang of desire through you. He moved between your thighs, brushing his lips against yours.

"I had business to attend to in New Orleans," He explained, peppering soft kisses along your jaw. "I thought about you constantly."

You blushed, reaching out to tuck his tie back into his vest.

"Will you come by my dorm tonight? My roommates won't be home, and we can continue this."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"I have a department head meeting tonight, but I'll swing by after."

"Okay," you smiled, then you leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I can't wait."

He growled softly, his lips capturing yours, pulling you close.

"Fuck, I have to go," he rasped, his cheeks flushed as he reluctantly pulled away.

You hopped off the desk, and moved over to the door. You opened it, but just before you could exit, he stopped you, pressing his lips against yours once more.

"Sir, someone could see us," you groaned, breaking the kiss, peeking down the hall.

"That is part of the fun, sweetheart." He smiled, giving you a wink before disappearing down the corridor.

You bit back a laugh, running a hand through your hair, trying to appear at least semi presentable before heading down the hallway towards your next class.

The rest of your day flew by in a blur, and by the time you were getting ready to meet your friends for dinner, the sun was starting to set.

You had all agreed to meet at a small pizza place, the one down the street from campus that always smelled like fresh baked bread.

You pulled on a jacket and started to walk over there, smiling and laughing as you spotted your friends standing in front of the building.

You jogged up to them, giving each of them a hug before you ducked into the restaurant.

The place was bustling and it took you a while to get your food, but you managed to find a table in the corner of the dining room.

The wine was flowing and everyone was chatting and laughing, sharing stories about their spring break and complaining about their classes.

"Do any of you have Mr. Mikaelson for Ancient History this semester?" Beth asked, pushing a curl away from her forehead.

"I do!" Caitlin chirped, waving her wine glass around animatedly. "He's kinda hot. I mean, I love you Soph’, don't get me wrong, but damn, that man."

"It's okay Cait, I'll allow it," Sophia snickered, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend's waist. "Maybe he's interested in joining us for a night? What do you think?"

"Hmm. Yeah, I'm in," Caitlin nodded in agreement, and they both looked at you.

"What?" You blinked, raising your brow.

"Don't you have his class? Isn't he single?" Beth asked.

"I do have his class," you laughed. "And I'm not sure, we don't exactly talk about that stuff."

You were suddenly feeling warm, the temperature in the room seemed to shoot up about 20 degrees. You pressed your thighs together, trying not to think about how you were on your knees for him that morning.

"Are you interested in him?" Caitlin teased.

"Uh... I'm not sure, he's..." you blushed, shaking your head, trying to rid yourself of the dirty thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Ooooh y/n has a crush," Beth chided, playfully hitting you with a napkin.

"Maybe," you squeaked, squirming uncomfortably in your seat, you took a long sip of wine, ignoring their giggles. "He is really hot," you admitted, hoping to shift the subject.

"Mhmmm," Caitlin nodded, sipping her wine.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you snagged it, grinning to yourself. You excused yourself from the table, rushing off to the bathroom to answer the text.

Professor M: I'm sorry sweetheart, but I won't be able to make it tonight.

You stared at the text, trying not to let your disappointment get to you. You were a little annoyed he gave no explanation, but maybe something came up, he was busy enough with school.

You wiped the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks and walked back to the table, clutching your cell phone in your hand. You threw on the best fake smile you could manage and tried to focus on your friends. But unfortunately they were still on the subject of Elijah, and they would not shut up about him.

"Y/n, seriously, he's gorgeous, why not go for it?" Caitlin teased, a smile stretching her lips.

"Nope. Not interested," you lied, biting into a piece of crust. "He's my teacher, it would be inappropriate."

You didn't want to admit that you were actually spending time with him. Well, apart from fucking each other senseless, you had only hung out once, so it wasn't exactly a relationship, right?

"It's only a little unethical, how old is he... Like, 26? You're 21, it's not like the age gap is insurmountable. Plus, teachers are just so sexy," Caitlin drunkenly rambled.

"Shut up, Cait," Sophia laughed, playfully nudging her girlfriend. "Do you want me to dress up as one of those naughty school girls? You seem awfully obsessed with this teacher thing."

"That's so hot, please do," Caitlin giggled, nibbling on Sophia's earlobe.

Beth narrowed her eyes at you, her expression morphing into one of concern. She had always been able to read you like a book, and you tried to steer the conversation towards anything other than Elijah.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked quietly, ignoring Caitlin and Sophia, who were practically tongue-fucking each other over the dinner table.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little stressed," you mumbled, tucking your phone into your pocket. "I've been talking to this guy and I don't think he's as invested as I am."

"Aww, what an asshole," she said, pouting.

"He's probably just not that into you," Sophia added, grabbing one of the chunky slices of pizza and waggling it in your direction. "Don't waste your time on men like that,"

"Maybe he's shy?" Beth countered. "What's his name?"

"It's fine, I'm just worried he is losing interest…maybe I should ... I don't know... make a grand gesture?" You stalled, reaching for your wine glass, taking a quick sip.

"Like what?" Beth asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

"I'm not sure yet... Our relationship is very sex heavy," you blushed.

Beth chuckled, refilling your wine glass.

"Why don't you take control then, do something he hasn't done, I'm sure he'd be down for it," she winked.

"Yeah, surprise him! Maybe you two could roleplay or something. That's hot." Sophia added.

The rest of your dinner was spent discussing their own romantic escapades, and you couldn't help but feel a little envious that none of them had to juggle a very complicated, at best, situation with a professor.

But they had sparked an idea in your mind, one that you didn't dare share with any of them, one that involved Elijah and yourself.

Once you got back to your room, you began rifling through a pile of clothes, looking for the perfect outfit for your idea. After tossing about twenty options on your bed, you decided on a white button down shirt and an extremely short plaid skirt, with knee-high socks and Mary Janes.

You took some scissors to the shirt, cutting off the sleeves and neckline, turning it into a sexy crop top with only a single button doing the job of keeping you decent.

You curled your hair into huge ringlets and even added a pencil to the side of your head in a very Breakfast Club-esque fashion.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, hoping it would work, looking like the perfect naughty school girl.

You grabbed a large trench coat from your closet, tying its sash tightly around you. Just as you were about to leave you decided to take off your panties. If everything worked out you wouldn't be needing them.

The walk to his loft didn't take long, you were in front of his door faster than you could process it. You quickly adjusted your curls and knocked, trying your best to be patient. It was only then did you realize how stupid this was, he might not even be home, he canceled on you, what if he didn't want to see you? What if you crossed a line? But it was too late to back out, someone was now opening the door.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as Elijah's tired brown eyes found yours. He was wearing just a pair of navy blue sweatpants, his hair messy. You noticed immediately that his glasses were a little askew, perched on the bridge of his nose, he looked like he was sleeping and you felt guilty for bothering him.

"Hi," he choked out. He looked you up and down, clearly taken by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." You bit your lip and gave him a meek smile. "I wanted to see you."

He looked over his shoulder and then stepped out onto the hallway, his hands went to your waist, moving you out of view of his doorway.

He seemed anxious and nervous, his eyes blown wide behind his glasses, and he quickly captured your lips, then pulled away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry, but you can't be here. You shouldn't have come," he said, letting out a sigh, pressing his forehead against yours.

"O..Okay." You huffed, feeling more stupid by the second. You took a deep breath, forcing the tears back. He was definitely seeing someone else, probably in his loft, someone better, less complicated. The thought of him touching another woman like he'd touched you made you sick.

"Elijah! Who are you hiding out here?" Said a man's voice from inside the loft, laughing.

You felt a swell of anxiety rising in your chest, and Elijah looked pained. He gave you a sympathetic look and then turned to face the man.

"Niklaus, this young lady is one of my students. She just had questions about an assignment," he said to the man, who appeared in the doorway.

He was beautiful, blonde curls and brilliant blue eyes, angular cheekbones and a sharp jawline. But he gave off an odd aura that you couldn't quite describe, there was something wild and untamed about him.

"Well come on in and have a drink with us, tell me all about how bad of a teacher my brother is," the man, Niklaus, teased, giving Elijah a playful shove.

"That's okay, I don't want to intrude. Thanks, though. I should probab-" you were in the middle of excusing yourself when you were cut off by Niklaus.

"Come now love, don't be shy. I never get to meet Elijah's students," Niklaus grinned, his eyes darting mischievously between you and Elijah. "And call me Klaus,"

You blushed and awkwardly shrugged, then turned and walked into the loft, Elijah behind you.

"Can I get you a drink, darling?" Klaus offered, pointing towards the well-stocked bar in the corner of the loft, his eyes focused on the pencil in your hair.

You nodded, panic rising in your chest. What the fuck were you doing? You were about to have a drink with his family and you were dressed like a slutty school girl under your coat. This was not going as planned.

"I'll take a scotch, thanks," you managed, glancing over at Elijah, who gave you a sweet, yet subtle wink.

You sat down awkwardly on the sofa, pulling on the edges of your coat, making sure it didn't expose your stockings.

Elijah sat down next to you, placing a warm hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving it away. He was trying to be sweet and reassuring, he thought you were just nervous around his brother. Little did he know that the real source of your anxiety was what was underneath your coat.

You accepted the scotch from Klaus and took a large sip, the familiar burning sensation in your throat was calming. He sat down on a chair across from you, not so subtly checking you out.

You weren't sure what to do, Elijah was staring at you expectantly.

"So you're in my brother's class? How are his classes going?" Klaus asked, looking like he was trying to conceal a smile.

"Um. Yeah, it's going well," you answered, the heat in the room increasing.

"What's your major?" He questioned, leaning forward.

"Psychology," you replied, biting your lip.

He chuckled, shaking his head, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Cute. You want to study minds then?"

"Something like that, yes," you mumbled, staring at your scotch glass, tracing the rim with your index finger. Your other hand holding the front of your coat closed, afraid it might fall open.

"So you don't really need to learn much about ancient history for that, huh? Why even bother taking the class?" He prodded.

"It's a requirement to fulfill some general education credits and I'm in need of those, so," you offered, awkwardly tapping the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, silently praying for a change in subject.

"Hmm... Well, Miss Psychology, tell me something about myself," he teased, eyes narrowed and alight with mischief.

"You want a diagnosis based on? What exactly?" You asked, glancing over at Elijah who was watching his brother curiously.

"What is your first impression of me," he grinned, looking at Elijah and wiggling his eyebrows.

"My first impression is that you're playing a game," you smiled coyly, relaxing a little, letting the alcohol calm you.

"What else?" He smirked, crossing his leg over the other.

"You enjoy teasing others, perhaps even humiliating them, you have a strong desire to stand out, even if it means tearing others down," you said confidently. You could've kept going, but you wanted to see what he would say.

He gave Elijah a wide smile, clapping his hands, seemingly impressed.

"That was spot on, love, you do know your shit," he laughed.

"Elijah, did you know your student was such a clever little thing," Niklaus taunted, his eyes raking up and down your exposed legs. "I bet your boyfriend goes crazy for that mouth."

You felt your cheeks turn crimson, blood rising to your face like flood waters rushing down a valley. Klaus was openly leering at you now, with no shame.

"I.. I'm not dating anyone," you muttered, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck.

Elijah cleared his throat, a chuckle threatening to spill past his lips, he placed a possessive hand on your thigh, moving his thumb in soothing circles. Klaus' eyes flickered to where his hand had landed, his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk.

"How do you feel about older men? With accents?" He teased, cocking his head slightly.

"Niklaus, stop bothering her," Elijah scolded.

"Me? I'm not doing anything," he feigned innocence, holding up his hands in surrender, making a show of sprawling himself on the chair. "You know me, Elijah, when I see something beautiful I want it for myself,"

"Niklaus," Elijah repeated with a groan.

You were blushing and uncomfortable, but their sparring was cute, they clearly loved each other.

Klaus smiled at you and raised an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?" he asked curiously.

You shrugged, sipping your scotch.

"I'm dating, but it's just casual. School's kind of a priority." You replied, avoiding Elijah's gaze, knowing damn well that you two were a contradiction to what you just said.

Klaus snorted, and your eyes landed on Elijah's, who was pouting slightly. You bit your lip to keep from smirking.

"Hm... Maybe you'll let me take you out sometime," Klaus suggested.

"Klaus... She's not interested," Elijah interrupted, his pout deepening.

You were beginning to sweat from the coat, you needed to change the subject, you were flustered and excited and terrified, all at once. Klaus noticed how red you had gotten.

"Why are you still wearing your coat? Aren't you warm? It's hot as hell in here," he observed, his blue eyes fixed on you, curious.

"Oh..." You blushed, taking a quick look over at Elijah, your anxiety multiplying tenfold. "I'm actually a little cold," you lied, your face burning hot.

Niklaus' eyes moved from the pencil in your hair downward, his gaze lingering on your legs for a moment, then his face broke out into a grin.

"How interesting," he sang, quickly switching his eyes back up to your face. "Would you like to borrow one of Elijah's sweaters?" He offered, clearly onto you.

You wanted to die on the spot. This was ridiculous, why were you here? What were you doing?

"No it's okay, truly." You mumbled, trying to think of an excuse to get the hell out of there.

"No please, allow me to fetch one," he nodded, but he didn't make a move to go find one, he was waiting for you to remove your coat.

"It's okay. I should go actually, it's late, I don't want to impose-"

"Don't be silly," he scoffed. "Here, let's trade," he offered, a cheeky gleam in his eyes. He removed his hoodie, leaving him just in a tight white henley.

"It's fine. I'm going." You stood up, but as you did the sash of your coat unfastened, causing it to gape open, exposing your entire outfit to him.

Klaus burst out laughing, looking from you to Elijah and then back to you, making no attempt to hide his obvious enjoyment.

"Very, very interesting," he sniggered, raising an eyebrow at you, his lips curled up in a way that bordered on sinister.

Elijah wasn't helping, just sitting there, open mouthed, gawking at you like a teenager.

You wanted to dissolve into thin air, the confidence you had walked here with completely gone. A rush of shame washing over you. You held the coat shut, trying desperately to keep yourself modest.

"Well brother, it looks like you finally took my advice and seduced a student. How's she in bed? I bet she loves learning from the professor, eh?"

Elijah was now giving his brother a scathing glare. You were utterly mortified and no words were coming out of your mouth, you wanted to say something to justify it, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Now, don't look so upset. I see nothing wrong with this," he grinned, winking at you, and then turning his attention back to his brother. "I always suspected you had the ability to have some fun, deep down,"

"You should go," Elijah said to you, his tone stern, his expression oddly disappointed. You didn't realize until that moment that he was pissed.

"Have you gone mad?" Klaus chuckled. "She is utterly sinful, I would spend hours between those thighs if I were you,”

Your cheeks were so hot now that it was painful, Elijah's intense stare not helping matters. You turned and practically ran to the door, hating yourself for this stupid idea.

"Don't leave so soon love," Klaus called out to you, laughing when he heard Elijah mumble 'fuck off' to him.

When you exited the loft you wanted to cry, hot tears welling up in your eyes, you were so stupid. What were you thinking? A mixture of desperation and lust had overcome you. You had completely humiliated yourself in front of not only Elijah, but his brother too.

"Y/n, wait."

You turned to see Elijah standing just outside the doorway, looking a little guilty, though the corner of his lips were threatening to rise into a smile.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, looking disheveled and impossibly sexy with his ruffled hair.

"It's fine. I have to go." You said, heading towards the elevator as fast as you could.

You tried pushing the down button, but he came up behind you, pressing himself against you, his head dipped into the curve of your neck, kissing gently.

"You look incredible. I want you right here, bent over, that skirt hitched up around your waist," he whispered.

"Maybe next time, Professor." You said, harsher than you meant. You felt disgusted with yourself and him. You shoved him off and got on the elevator, without a single glance back, not allowing his intense gaze to halt your departure.

You cried all the way home, cursing yourself for being so shamelessly naïve. The entire time you walked back to your dorm the only thing you could think about was the way Klaus looked at you. It made you feel sick and tainted, made you feel like everything Elijah had ever done to you was a charade, it was all purely transactional. You probably came off as desperate and pathetic. There was no way a guy like him was truly interested in you. You were just a twisted fantasy to him, and tonight you played into it. You didn't know how you were going to face him on Monday.

The weekend came and went faster than you hoped, dragging yourself to class on Monday was grueling. Seeing Elijah after your humiliation on Friday evening would be the most mortifying thing in the world.

You barely slept and left for class early, hoping the walk would help clear your head, but even the fresh spring air couldn't ease the pain of how stupid you'd been. Elijah had probably laughed about it with his brother over the weekend. You were a joke to them both.

What hurt the most was that you truly cared for him, you adored him. He was your dream man. He was smart and passionate, handsome, charismatic and insanely sexual. He made you feel wanted in a way that no one had ever made you feel before. He made you feel beautiful and he challenged you intellectually.

When you were with him, everything felt perfect. Until the consequences of your feelings for him began to outweigh the logical side of your brain.

The sound of a car horn pulled you from your thoughts, you looked around for the source, and saw a fancy sports car pull up next to you.

"Get in, love,"

It was Klaus, casually leaning across the passenger's side, his sharp features arranged into a maliciously charming smile.

"I have to get to class," you said, staring straight ahead, picking up your pace.

"No you don't. Class doesn't start for another 40 minutes," he noted. "I couldn't possibly allow my brothers star pupil to walk across campus when I have this fine automobile at my disposal. My mother, rest her soul, would turn over in her grave."

You sighed, biting back a smirk, and decided you didn't have any energy to argue. You let him open the passenger's side door and got in.

"Stunning," he whispered, his lips twitching upwards, winking at you before closing the door and then rushing over to the driver's side. "Did I tell you, you looked ravishing in that outfit?" He smiled, clicking on his seatbelt and then backing out of the parking lot.

"Thank you," you mumbled, holding onto your backpack tightly, hoping that this car ride wouldn't take long.

"You didn't strike me as the kind of girl who goes to other people's apartments wearing... a getup like that," he said conversationally, driving faster than necessary with one hand on the wheel, the other running through his hair.

"I didn't expect anyone else to be there, truthfully," you admitted, staring out the window.

"My apologies for ruining your evening," he stated dryly.

"You didn't ruin it. I did that on my own, quite spectacularly," you noted, chuckling bitterly.

"How so? Worried you won't pass his class now?" He teased, pulling over just outside of the building.

You sighed, averting your eyes. "No, I'm not worried about passing. Thank you." You muttered.

Klaus stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing in contemplation.

"My brother doesn't get out much, he's a workaholic dedicated to his students, usually more concerned about their future rather than his own. That being said, he hasn't had many relationships." He paused, glancing over at you with an amused smirk. "He's so very traditional and clean cut. Old fashioned, even. Though, he might not be so wholesome underneath that prim and proper persona," he grinned.

"Klaus-"

"He is a passionate person, and I don't want to see him get hurt," he said quietly, the lighthearted expression suddenly replaced by a warning. "I care for him, probably more than I should,"

You swallowed the lump that was rapidly growing in your throat.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked curiously, anxiety coiling in your belly.

"Are you fucking him for the grades? Or are you fucking him because you like him?" He challenged.

"I like him," you admitted, your face burning with shame.

"You like him, or you like fucking him? Because if the latter is the case then I will be more than happy to take my brother's place," he smirked.

"I like him," you repeated, emphasizing the ‘him’ and narrowing your eyes.

"Do you sleep with any of your other professors for good grades?"

"Oh fuck off," you said, and opened the car door, grabbing your things before climbing out.

"Come on, we're practically family now," he laughed. "After last Friday,"

"Goodbye, Klaus." You told him firmly.

"One last thing, love, before I go..."

"What?" You spat, turning back to him, the last thing you wanted was this dude running his mouth. He seemed to love the sound of his own voice.

"I really meant what I said before. Elijah is a good man, and he doesn't need his heart broken,"

"Neither do I," you muttered, slamming the door shut and walking away as fast as you could.

You hid in the back of the classroom, burying your face in your notebook, listening to the class file in. Mr. Mikaelson was ten minutes late, which was very unlike him.

"My apologies class, I had to take a cab today. My car was borrowed without my permission,”

You looked up to see him adjusting his tie, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses askew. He looked a little annoyed and stressed.

"Today we will be discussing the role of women in Greek society, specifically the Spartans and Athenians. Miss Y/L/N, I don't have a TA today, can you come help me with the presentation?" He asked, his eyes flickering over to yours.

"Of course," you replied, getting up and making your way to the front.

"Everyone, please get settled. This is very important information and should be used for your essays," he warned.

He motioned for you to sit at his desk, pointing to his laptop, opening the projector for the screen.

"Just click here when I tell you," he instructed, his face so close to yours that you could smell his cologne. You could sense that he was a little on edge, and that made you nervous.

You could feel him watching you intently, so much so that your hands were shaking as you moved the mouse. He moved away to begin the lecture, but his eyes were always fixed on you, even when he wasn't speaking directly to you.

The lecture passed agonizingly slow, it felt like hours instead of a few brief moments. You could barely concentrate, the only thing on your mind was Klaus' words echoing in your head.

"An important difference between the Spartans and the Athenians is the role that women played in society, specifically their role in politics. Now, the Spartan woman was not allowed to take part in politics, they were only permitted to raise the children, while the men served in the military..."

You followed along on screen, reading the sides, occasionally sneaking a look over at him. He was so captivating, so confident and knowledgeable. You had fallen hard for him, there was no denying it.

You noticed something else on his screen. An email notification from the dean titled: Request to Transfer.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

"Now, in contrast, Athenian women had the freedom to learn, they were given the right to divorce, and they were allowed to serve as priestesses, which was a very esteemed position. Women were respected, not treated like property. It's a very interesting contrast, and one that is often overlooked."

You opened the email, reading it over quickly.

To Mr. Mikaelson, I've received your request to transfer to the University of Cambridge in England. This is an exciting opportunity, and I understand why you have chosen to accept. It is unfortunate, however, that we will be losing you. I will discuss this matter with the board, and be putting in my recommendation for a new instructor. I will also contact Cambridge as a reference for you. We are truly sorry to see you leave. Sincerely, Dean Williams.

You were frozen, unable to move. He was leaving.

"Thank you, miss Y/L/N, you can return to your seat,"

You blinked, looking up at him, his eyes were fixed on you, a look of concern and hesitation. But he didn't say anything, and continued his lecture.

It was a blur. The whole thing. You didn't remember packing up your things, or walking out of the room.

"Y/n, wait," his voice called out from behind you. But you just kept walking, the tears were threatening to fall, and the last thing you needed was him seeing you cry.

You skipped the rest of your classes, and walked to your dorm, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket, the phone vibrating incessantly. It was him. You knew it was him, but you couldn't speak to him.

Beth was hanging out in your room, laying on your bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, babe, you're back early," she greeted you.

You nodded, sniffling, dropping your backpack on the ground and then going to lay down beside her.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Talk to me." She nudged you.

"I think I've fallen for a very unavailable man." You whispered, your voice breaking.

"How unavailable?"

"Like, leaving the country unavailable,"

"Oh," she said softly, reaching over and pulling you into her chest. "Is this the guy you were telling us about on Friday? The one you were going to do a grand gesture for?"

"Yeah, I went to his apartment, I was dressed in a way that would make a street hooker blush, and his brother was there. It was humiliating."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm embarrassed, Beth. I'm humiliated. I was just a joke to him, I mean, how can a guy like him, who is older, and successful, and has his shit together, really want a girl like me?" The tears were really starting to flow now.

"Stop. Do not do that to yourself," she chastised.

"And on top of that, I'm a fucking cliché! Fucking a professor, thinking I'm special. Thinking I was more than just some stupid kid with a crush." You said, suddenly realizing you let slip the identity of the man in question.

"Wait, you're talking about... One of our professors?!" Beth asked, her mouth hanging open.

"No," you lied, getting up out of the bed, wiping away the tears.

"Who is it?"

"Doesn't matter. He's leaving, probably going to get tenure at some big university overseas. He's never coming back," you whispered, hating the way your voice sounded so small.

"Oh. My. God, who is it!!! Tell me!!" Beth was practically begging now, but you just shook your head.

"If this information gets out it could ruin his career, please, just forget I said anything,"

She nodded, but her eyes were narrowed, "Is it Mr. Salvatore? I've heard he sleeps around with the girls here. Some even say he likes it rough," she winked, and you had to laugh.

"Definitely not, I think his wife has enough of his dick," you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Does he know about your... Feelings? Why doesn't he like you back?" She pressed, brushing your hair back.

You considered lying, but after your night of embarrassment and idiocy, you decided you had nothing else to lose.

"I think he does, but this is complicated. It's highly inappropriate and he's leaving. Which is probably for the best. Our time together can only ever be temporary," you said sadly, getting up and going to the bathroom to freshen up.

"If you love him, you should tell him, whether he's staying or not. Sometimes temporary is what's necessary to feel deeply, and that feeling should be worth the pain of his inevitable goodbye," she stated knowingly.

You walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. She was always the friend that gave you the best advice, even if you didn't want to hear it.

"You are right, I'm going to go talk to him," you said determinedly.

"Can you pleaaasseee tell me who?" She begged as you got dressed, pulling on a skirt and some thigh high socks.

"Fine, but you can't tell a soul, and I'm borrowing your boots," you muttered, bending down to grab them.

"Okay, Jesus, it's like pulling teeth!" She exclaimed.

"It's Mr. Mikaelson," you admitted, putting the boots on and blushing, straightening out the tiny skirt and fumbling with the buttons on your cardigan. "Elijah,"

Beth let out a squeal. "Elijaahhh," she said dreamily, mocking the sound of your voice when you said his name.

"Shut up!" You replied, blushing like an idiot.

"He's sooooo hot," Beth crooned, lifting her arm and pretending to fan herself. "How did it happen?!? Is he..." she looked around the room dramatically, before leaning over and whispering, "Is he a good lay?"

You smacked her with a pillow, making her burst into a fit of laughter. "You are the fucking worst, I knew I shouldn't have told you,"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry, but please tell me!"

You chuckled and bit your lip, reminiscing on all the things he'd done to you. "The first time it happened was in his office and I... made the first move," you admitted, smiling when you saw the look of shock on her face.

"Professor Mikaelson?"

You nodded.

"Mildmannered, broody, sexy as fuck, Mikaelson?"

"The one and only," you agreed, hugging her. "Please don't tell anyone,"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she whispered, before shoving you out the door, which resulted in you tumbling onto the hallway floor. "Don't come back until you guys have made up and made a mess of his office!! Love you babes,"

You flipped her off, laughing and adjusting your stockings and shoes, the last thing you needed was running into another professor with your ass literally out.

You sent him a quick text, hoping he was still at school. He didn't reply, which made your stomach lurch uncomfortably. This felt almost like a replay of your disastrous encounter Friday night. But this time it was going to be different, this time you were determined to talk to him and clear the air.

The school was quiet, classes were long over and everyone had left, so when you rounded the corner to Elijah's office you sighed with relief, seeing that his door was ajar, a light flickering under the frame.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you and leaning up against it, staring at him. He didn't say anything, so you spoke up.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mean what?" He replied, leaning back in his chair.

"The email,"

He sat in silence, his eyes lingering on yours, and you quickly looked away. "I didn't want you to find out that way, I was going to tell you soon."

"That you're leaving?" You whispered, but somehow the words got lodged in your throat, your tongue refusing to cooperate.

He nodded, leaning back in his chair and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, sighing loudly, almost as though he was in pain.

"I didn't even know you applied," you said hoarsely.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think I'd be accepted. But that job is a chance of a lifetime. I can't pass this up." His tone was even, but you could see the pain in his eyes. You felt nauseous. He was really leaving you, this was really happening.

"You must be excited," you said, cursing the way your voice shook. The lump in your throat threatening to burst.

"It's my dream job," he admitted quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

"That's great," you felt like the world was collapsing around you, everything was crashing in on itself, suffocating you.

"Come here," he said softly.

You shook your head. "I'm fine right here."

He gave you a sad look, and you held back a sniffle, the emotion bubbling up in you, but you couldn't let it out. He wasn't yours to begin with.

"This was a mistake wasn't it?" You said sadly, remembering your conversation with Klaus, wanting to sob, bury your face in a pillow, and sleep for the rest of the year.

"Come here," he said again, this time more assertively, gesturing with his finger, beckoning you to come to him.

You bit your lip and walked over to him, your hands and knees weak, tears threatening to fall. You stood next to his desk and before you could sit down in the chair, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, so that you were straddling him.

"I love you," he murmured, taking you by surprise, cradling the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"What?"

"You heard me," he insisted, kissing your forehead, pulling you closer so that you were flush against his chest, close enough to hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm soothing you.

You sighed and shook your head, this wasn't real. You would wake up at any moment and find out this was all a horrible dream.

"I'm sorry for what happened on Friday. I... didn't handle it well," he admitted. "My brother humiliated you, and I let it happen. I am truly sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you murmured, curling into his shoulder, shutting your eyes, trying to hold onto him for as long as possible.

"It does matter, you were making an effort, putting yourself out there and the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt. And when you left I could tell you were distraught," his voice was soothing, his hands gripping your thighs, tracing gentle circles on your skin.

"I was being a horny idiot, I kind of deserved it," you snarked.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating with amusement. "You were embarrassed. My brother likes to… push people."

"Remind me never to meet your parents then," you muttered, still refusing to open your eyes.

"The rest of my family is just as bad," he admitted, moving your legs so that they were wrapped around his waist, his large hands gripping your ass. "Are you going to open your eyes for me, my sweet girl?"

You opened them slowly, tentatively. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his warm breath, and see all the stubble on his jaw.

"Hi," you whispered shyly, biting your lip, meeting his molten brown stare, the pools of chocolate almost hypnotizing.

"I love you," he repeated, never breaking eye contact, pulling your hand up to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss.

"Y-You can't say things like that," you stammered, your heart melting at the sound of his declaration.

"Why not? It's true," he challenged you, a smirk playing at his lips, his dimples even more pronounced.

"Because you're leaving, and I... like you a lot," you said hesitantly, hating that you were being such a coward about it.

"So come with me," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on your thigh. "Let me take you with me."

"Cambridge is... It's your dream job, I couldn't possibly-"

"Please come with me," he said passionately, intertwining his fingers with yours. "There are lots of universities in England you can transfer to... just not Cambridge, please," he chuckled.

"I don't exactly have the money to move countries right now," you lamented, kissing his knuckles, studying the way your hands looked against his, hoping you could memorize every detail of his, in case it was the last time you'd be able to touch him.

"I'll take care of all that, love. Just please say yes," he pleaded, kissing your neck, and lifting up your cardigan, stroking the bare skin on your waist.

"O-Okay," you said timidly, gasping when you felt him lift up your tank top, his fingers skillfully removing it, tugging at your bra, making your nipples peak in excitement.

"I want an enthusiastic yes, or not at all," he ordered, kissing down your chest, hovering over your breasts, licking at the soft tissue, his warm mouth suckling the tip of your nipple, while his hand played with the other one, rolling and pinching.

You had no doubts that you would follow him to the ends of the Earth if he asked. "Yes, yes, Elijah, yes, I'll go with you," you gasped, as he nipped at your breast, his teeth pulling at the tender flesh, sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, reaching down and unbuttoning your skirt, almost tearing it off in his rush to get you naked.

"I love these," he said softly, his fingers grazing along your thigh highs. "If Klaus didn't ruin our Friday, what exactly was your plan in that little outfit?" He wondered aloud, grinning, and you found yourself blushing despite the whole situation.

"I... wanted us to roleplay," you muttered, "B-But if you don't want to, it's fine! We don't have to. It was dumb,"

"Shh," he soothed, nuzzling your neck. "Tell me, what were you planning?"

You gulped, not expecting him to get on board so easily. "Well, I was going to pretend to be an innocent school girl and, um, you'd be my very strict professor," you admitted, completely ashamed. It sounded even worse out loud.

He let out a genuine laugh, his dimples more prominent and the twinkle in his eye entrancing. "So just a more extreme version of what we've already done in my classroom?"

You nodded and bit your lip.

"Very well, repeat after me, darling: Yes, Professor Mikaelson," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave lower, setting your soul on fire.

He looked so different right now. His demeanor changed from the sweet man who professed his love for you to someone powerful. Dominant. Hot.

"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," You almost squealed, letting out a yelp when he slapped your ass hard.

"Undress me," he instructed, sitting back against the chair, spreading his legs wider, making himself comfortable.

"Oh, okay, yeah, yessir," you mumbled, you were clumsy and uncoordinated, desperate to remove his clothes.

He was wearing suspenders today, and you playfully pulled on them, a smirk spreading across his face as you did so. You unbuttoned his shirt slowly, pulling it off, momentarily pausing when you saw how tense and wound up he was, how much he wanted you.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, running his hands through your hair, tugging slightly, and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Keep going, darling."

You nodded, and undid his pants, his erection springing up. You stroked him a few times, before sliding the pants off and straddling him once again, grinding against him, loving the way he hissed in response.

You positioned your legs, ready to sink down onto him, but he stopped you, his hand gripping your waist tightly.

"What's my name?" He growled, his jaw clenched.

"Elijah,"

"Not what I'm looking for," he tutted, spanking you again, the sting making you whimper.

"Daddy," you murmured, and he hummed in approval, gripping your waist and guiding you down onto his cock, his shaft stretching you open.

"Now ride my cock, sweetheart," he ordered, and you started moving, up and down, grinding into him, your hips bucking forward. Pressing yourself against him, feeling the delicious friction of his pelvis against your clit.

He let out a soft moan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and biting, leaving tiny bruises all over you, marking you as his.

"Good girl, use my cock, baby, come on," he groaned, his breath hot and ragged.

You whimpered and picked up the pace, riding him harder, faster, chasing the delicious pleasure. Your eyes locked with his, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Your thighs burned and you could feel the sweat trickle down the back of your neck, and yet you never felt better, the feeling of him inside of you was heavenly.

You braced your hands on his shoulders, trying to find leverage, his fingers digging into your ass, and his tongue slipping into your mouth.

The kiss was hot, and messy, and desperate, a complete contradiction of the slow and sensual movements of his hips, the way his cock slid in and out of you, the lewd squelching sounds of your bodies colliding filling the air.

"Are you getting tired?" He teased, breaking the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip.

"No," you denied, panting heavily, but he noticed the slight tremble of your legs, and the beads of sweat rolling down your face.

He stopped moving his hips, letting you take control, smirking at you.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He demanded, raising his eyebrow at you.

You blushed, and slowly started riding him, trying not to whine. Your thighs burned and you were exhausted, but you couldn't stop. He wouldn't let you.

You bounced up and down on his cock, and he smacked your ass, the stinging sensation making you hiss.

"Come on, my love, you're not doing a very good job, are you?" He chastised you, his voice low, and teasing, and taunting.

"S-Sorry, daddy," you mumbled, your legs started to shake, your muscles hitting the point of no return.

He didn't answer, and kept spanking you, watching you try to keep a rhythm. Your legs suddenly gave out and you fell onto his chest, burying your face in his shoulder.

He chuckled and moved his arms underneath your legs, lifting you up, and slamming into you. You cried out in surprise, and moaned, clinging onto his neck for support.

"Tired, are we?" He teased, his mouth next to your ear, his lips trailing down your neck, and biting hard, making you wince. "I've got you,"

He kept fucking into you, his hips snapping back and forth, pounding into you, the chair creaking beneath him. He began bouncing you up and down his shaft, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"Language, Miss Y/L/N," he growled, and you let out a loud yelp when he smacked your ass.

"Sorry, Professor," you apologized, your climax creeping up on you.

Your eyes met his, and you saw a flash of desire, his jaw clenching, the vein in his forehead protruding.

"Elijah, Elijah," you whimpered, grinding into him, desperately chasing your orgasm,moaning and gasping when he kissed you again, his lips warm and soft against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, swallowing your whines and whimpers.

"Cum for me," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, his hands cupping your ass, kneading the flesh.

You did just that, a few more thrusts and you came undone, screaming his name, clutching onto him. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body stiffening as he filled you with his cum.

You stayed seated on him, not wanting to be separated. Wanting to live in this moment forever, his glistening skin, warm and inviting, and yours pressed against his. Him inside of you, the warm connection between you two.

He grinned lazily at you and swept away the hair plastered against your forehead.

"Professor Mikaelson, that was..." You began in a teasing tone, but trailed off when you realized you didn't know what to say. It felt like it would be impossible to fully encapsulate the experience with words.

"I love you too," you said breathlessly, finally wrapping your head around his declaration.

"You don't have to say it back," he murmured, "I know it's all a bit sudden-"

You cut him off with a desperate kiss. "I love you," you repeated, the words becoming easier. "I love you, and I'll come to England with you, if you'll have me."

He smiled, resting his forehead against yours, cupping your face in his hands. "Sweet girl, I wouldn't have it any other way."

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