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aias-fxtns · 11 hours ago

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Forward lads! Forward!, Tommy closed his eyes, face contorting as he battled against the echoing orders that had followed him home to English soil. Battled with the shrieking hiss of the teapot muffling the sound of his aunt's voice, when another suddenly snapped him out of the sweaty panic rising on the nape of his neck.

How long would he keep this up?, your gaze darted to each freckle, to the crystal specks in his eyes catching the morning sun as your heart ached for him to talk to you. Ached to see a glimpse of the man who kissed you goodbye four years ago.

It getting worse than last time. Here we, might as well book for a therapy session after this one. LMAO.

Both are suffering from the pain caused by the war but both experienced different kinds of war. The one was literal and other wasn't. I hope they will find their peace and each other again wherein both are healed. They deserve it, they deserve to be free from the constant horror on their minds.

For unlike the men that had returned screaming of the horrors of war, Tommy had returned silent. A silence she feared not even you could release him from to let the screams that so desperately needed to be heard, free.

Awe, wow. This is peak cinema.

"Why would they wana be me, eh? I don't even wana be me" Tommy's grumbling response quickly shrouded the moment as he snapped his scanning eyes away from the smiles and nods of respect sent his way.

"Old men make war, so young men can die. And I've seen many kids die. They have no place playing soldier, love" his sentiments for his superiors, for the echoing words he shared with Sean had you digging your heels into the ground as you pulled your hand from his.

"They know nothing of war" he swevered through the streets of people with you in tow. His agitation for the growing bustle that came with the morning rush, felt through his tightening grip on your hand.

"Pretty please?" a boyish grin appeared on the corners of his lips, causing you to quickly surrender to its charm with a nod of your head as you left your worries behind for a sense of the same normalcy he craved.

Ahhh, genuine smiling and grinning Tommy top tier moments.

And they live happily ever after, the end. Yeah, let's end it here now, aye....

"Well, we can't be doing that. I need you in one piece" you rested your hand on his chest with a gentle tap, eyes beaming up at him as his fingers swept over the curves of your hips.

I scream everytime I caught them having fluff moments it like treasure hunting at this point😭. It's very rare.

"Fuck..." you slumped back against the rattling walls, head thudding against the papered concrete in frustration.

Why the heck did just my head played one of Adele's song in my head as I continue reading this chapter, especially on this part.... it's concerning😭😭😭

"Tommy please, wake up!" you began to sob in a panic as you watched the colour drain from his face, his chest rise with heavy labored breaths. " Polly, help!"

"Thomas!" the mothering boom of Polly's voice rattled the walls as she threw open the door to see him looming over you with a gun pointed to your head.

No words, just this gif.

Lips falling silent, Tommy turned his back to your trembling body as his heart sank to the back of his chest, hardening with a one worded order that threatened to change the course of your relationship, shutting you out and throwing you into the arms of another.

"Leave."

Here we go! Ahhhh, I can't. Not me trying to gaslight myself that the next chapter isn't angstier than this😭. Let's just ignore this part, yeah....

Sweet Dreams, Darling (Part Six)

Summary: As Tommy's hold on the torment in his mind begins to slip further from his control, Sean relays the unsettling events he witnessed the previous night. But when his sly move to put a wedge between you and Tommy catches your soldiers eye, you are left to deal with not only his growing paranoia but a harrowing night that'll leave you scared for your life in the arms of the man who fought to keep you safe.

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, PTSD, hallucinations, depictions of war, depictions of death, suicidal thoughts.

Word Count: 4K

Authors Note: The last scene of this chapter will include a dream sequence that's highlighted in bold and italics so you can differentiate between what's part of the nightmare and what's not. Happy reading!

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" Don't say it, mum" Tommy's eyes sheepishly past those of his mother in the framed picture hanging on the landing wall with a heavy sigh of embarrassment as he beat the morning's rising sun, and made his way down the wooden stairs before the house woke to a new day.

Hands brushing through the length of his hair, he sat at the dining table with eyes absently staring at the chipped wood. Waiting with grinding teeth for the first sound of noise as the previous night's hazy events, cleared for its accompanying shame to hurl a barrage of questions at his tired mind. Was he as lost as Danny? As far gone as him?

"Tea?" Polly's voice and creaky steps saved him from the face-slapping reality of how quickly, how easily, he had fallen for his fellow soldiers chanting orders.

" I see" her brow arched at the empty glass of whiskey sat between his hands and the unenthusiastic grunt of a response sent her way as she sauntered to the copper tea pot before she too, reached for something stronger to see her through the day.

With all forms of conversation seemingly off the table, Polly settled herself into the small armchair by the fire. The days' news grasped between her fingers with an observant eye over her nephew and the battle of wills with himself he was losing against.

For just as the first morning rays of sun had begun to appear through the netted curtains of Watery Lane, so had Tommy's heightened senses, still as sharp as his last day of battle. A blood-pumping alertness that had his clenched fists straining against his rattling fingers as his eyes snapped to each flicker of noise.

" We took over a hundred pounds in winnings last month" Polly curiously watched over the printed paper in her hand for a response as Tommy's face flinched away from the shrill of a bicycle's ringing bell, pedaling past their front door. A snapping glance away from each crisp turn of the pages between her fingers. His eyes honing in on the steaming kettle, bubbling its way to its whistling finale.

" No, two hundred..." her voice petered out as she lowered the journal to her lap, watching the information that would in any other circumstance, garner her nephews immediate attention within seconds as a plan to double their intake for the next month simultaneously formulated in his mind.

Eyes glaring at the harmless threat in front of him, Tommy watched the small kettle rumble against the hob of the iron cooker as his tunneling vision blurred out every object, every buzzing noise around him with readiness for the whistling command that would send him over into enemy lines.

" Ready?" you appeared with a smile at the bottom of the stairs, adjusting the pin in your hat as Tommy abruptly launched from his seat with heavy strides towards the blowing kettle, throwing it into the sink beside him.

" Tommy...?" your eyes widened as you watched his shoulders hunch over, fists clench against the tin basin with hissing teeth at the burn blistering his palm.

Frightened eyes snapping to Polly, you slowly took an apprehensive step forward when she came to stand between you and your injured soldier with a shake of her head.

Hand clutching yours, her hazel eyes deepened with dread at the premonitions she had foreseen as they settled upon her lost nephew, stood with his back to you, looking down at his trembling hand and the searing pain radiating under his reddening skin.

Clearing the knotted embarrassment from his throat, Tommy pulled his weighted coat around his shoulders. Blistering palm catching the edges of its padded lapels before darting out to his side for you to take.

"Y/N?" his voice broke through the silence as he stepped from foot to foot. Coated back to you with an unwillingness to come face to face with you and his aunt after his slipping mind had you witnessing the harrowing aftermath the war had on him.

" Please..." his voice croaked with desperation to hide the shame he felt, the urgency he had to forget the uncontrollable whispers he shared with his brothers in arms.

As his splayed fingers ushered you forward, you steadied your trembling lip, brushed back the frightened tears pooling in your eyes as you mindfully reached for his hand and the oozing burn surfacing on his palm.

Without another word, Tommy intertwined his fingers with yours in a tight grasp as he stayed unresponsive to the scorching pain searing his skin. Stubbornly keeping up the facade of a man sound of mind as he pulled you with him to the front door with an unmoving face.

With the sound of the brassy lock clicking shut, Polly lowered herself to perch on the arm of the upholstered chair as the forbading words she had once spoken taunted her with a reality far worse.

Shit.

Out onto the bustling streets of Small Heath, and away from the terraced house that weighed heavy with gloom since the three brothers return, you walked with hurried steps alongside Tommy down the streets of his childhood town. An outing suggested by him, made in the hopes of not only escaping the pressure of what needed to be addressed, but to decompress back into civilian life with the only thing he needed next to him. His peace, his reassuring comfort. You.

Hand grasped tightly within his, an internal wince for the injury he was adamant on neglecting had your stomach turn with worry as your eyes drifted up to his unwavering stare at the cobbled street ahead.

" Welcome home, Mister" a young boy stood to attention with a salute. Stick rifle perched on his shoulder as his dimpled-cheeked, and muddy-kneed gang of friends looked on in awe.

" They want to be like you" you turned into his side, hand resting on his chest with pride as you ushered his attention with a nod of your head to the beaming eyes of children watching a hero in their mist.

"Why would they wana be me, eh? I don't even wana be me" Tommy's grumbling response quickly shrouded the moment as he snapped his scanning eyes away from the smiles and nods of respect sent his way.

"Tommy, don't say such things" your brow furrowed with disappointment at the qualities you saw in him, he had begun to loathe.

" They know nothing of war" he swevered through the streets of people with you in tow. His agitation for the growing bustle that came with the morning rush, felt through his tightening grip on your hand.

" They're Finn's age, Tommy. Kids. They're just kids" you winced, feeling the heat of his injury radiating against your hand as he marched you along the street at a quickened pace.

" Old men make war, so young men can die. And I've seen many kids die. They have no place playing soldier, love" his sentiments for his superiors, for the echoing words he shared with Sean had you digging your heels into the ground as you pulled your hand from his.

" Why would you say that?" your eyes bubbled with anger as Tommy hissed with a darting glance down at the burn to his hand hitting the cool January air.

" What's wrong, Tommy? This morning..." you grabbed his wrist, turning it for him to see the flakey skin scorched by his sudden outburst.

"...last night" your voice quietened as you gently cupped your palm over his, eyes drifting up to see his darting blues searching for something to say that would ward you off from digging any further.

"I'm just...I'm fucking tired, Y/N. Tired of everyone on my back, staring at me like I'm some bloody circus act, alright?" his snapping words came with instant regret, when you released his hand from yours and a lone tear fell to your cheek.

" Are they not allowed to be proud of you, Tommy? Am I not allow..." you held back your feelings of rejection, giving in to the notion that you were the cause of his sour mood for a second day running after being met with nothing but silence from him.

"Just, forget it" your eyes cast down in disappointment as you turned with a heavy sigh to leave him in the peace you believed you were hindering.

" Shit" he huffed under his breath as he brushed his fingers down his furrowed brow before spinning on his heel to the maze of alleyways that would see him back onto the main street and directly in your path.

" Hey!" he appeared from the bricked gulley of potholes with darting feet and steadying hands in front of you. " I didn't..."

" I'm going home, Tommy. So I'm no longer on your...back" you quickly interrupted, hurt feelings made clear as you wiggled yourself free of his hold.

"Fuck sake" he mumbled, tightening jaw and regretful eyes watching you walk down the cobbled street before he jogged back into the row of alleyways to catch up with you.

" Come on, love. Don't do this to me, eh?" he reappeared directly in front of your stuttering heels with persistence to make up for his blundering statement once again.

"Y/N, look at me " he blocked each of your dodging steps as his hands came up to your cheeks, lifting your face to meet the heavy guilt in his.

"I didn't mean you, darling. Never you" his voice softened as he brushed the whispers of hair from your reddened face, wetted with tears.

" Leave me alone, Tommy" you felt the past twenty-four hours of rejection come to a head as you turned your face from his pruning fingers, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

" Hey, come on" he kept you in place, battling against your swatting fingers with a heavy sigh.

" I wanted to spend the day with you. Just you and me, eh?" His hands fell to his side in surrender, dipping his head down to catch your eyes as you remained unconvinced with folded arms.

"We'll do anything you want. Shops, a walk down by the cut. Anything just to feel..." he stopped himself from saying how he really felt, from what he desperately needed from you. Normality.

"Please?" his hand brushed down your arm as you looked up through your lashes with doe eyes at the man that could talk you into anything if given the chance.

"Fine" you looked up through hooded eyes with a shy smile at the playfulness you had missed, the familiarity that had your heart flutter against your chest as he settled his heavy hand on the curve of your back.

" There she is. My girl" Tommy quietly mouthed, pulling you into his chest as his heart swelled at the smile that he, not Ada, nor Polly or anyone else, had coaxed from you. A smile made just for him.

After a stroll into town, and a pop into the local shops for a basket full of life's essentials, you and Tommy headed home in high spirits. Unaware of the following footsteps of a stray lurking nearby.

" That best not be for me, love" Tommy mumbled through the cigarette perched between his lips as his eyes shot down to the silver-canned staple every soldier had begrudgingly lived off for the past four years in the small basket perched on your arm.

" I thought you might be missing it" you brow furrowed suspiciously at the tinned Spam nestled within the many packets of biscuits that Tommy's sweet tooth made sure they saw their way into your woven basket without your knowledge.

"Open me up, and there'll be cans of the fucking stuff" he chuckled, sliding his hand over your waist with a stroking tickle as his eyes creased with a smile at the delightful giggles he'd wooed from you.

" Well, we can't be doing that. I need you in one piece" you rested your hand on his chest with a gentle tap, eyes beaming up at him as his fingers swept over the curves of your hips.

" Do you now?" his gaze darkened with mischievousness as his hand dipped with a smirk to cup your bum.

" Tommy..." you swatted him away as your eyes darted in a panic for any onlookers that may have witnessed his roaming hands trying to cop a feel.

" Tom!" Charlie, friend to the family and adopted uncle to all the Shelby children, appeared around the corner across the bustling road with a wave of his hand.

"Keep those naughty thoughts for when we get back home, eh? I won't be a minute" he whispered into your ear with a quick pinch to your backside before darting through the oncoming traffic for the street across the road.

" Your naughty thoughts" you corrected him with a wave of your finger as he shot you a cheeky wink over his shoulder.

Head turning to the shop window beside you, your fingers came up to your smiling lips as Tommy's returned playfulness left you both with sparks of excitement to pick up from your disastrous attempt to reconnect the previous night, when a whistle snapped you out of your daydreams.

" Lover boys back then. What's left of him that is" Sean appeared, stood with his back against a truck of goods with muddy boots unlaced around his ankles. His chosen spot of approach, hidden from the street of people on the opposite side of the bustling road. Or more importantly, hidden from said lover boy.

"What do you want, Sean?" you mumbled under your breath as you turned to see Tommy shooting you a smile from over the traffic before returning to the list of demands he'd bestowed upon his grunting uncle.

"Won't be long until he snaps too, sweetheart. These brave soldiers are dropping like flies. One, by, one. Don't be telling me you ain't seen it" he sniffed as he settled his hands into his trouser pockets, kicking a pebble across the cobbled street to the bricked building in front of him.

"Not my, Tommy!" you spat back, stepping a foot forward with arms folded in defense as your reddening cheeks betrayed you with the worry you had for the state of your returning soldiers mind.

"Really?" he smirked with enjoyment at your blushing cheeks and the lie he had unearthed as Tommys eyes looked over the steady stream of cars to see you in conversation with someone hidden from his sight.

" Saw him last night, Y/N. Falling about in the middle of the street, shouting like a fucking mad man. He's got a screw loose, darling" he tapped the side of his head, creasing eyes watching the information he'd relayed sink in.

As your eyes rimmed red with the severity of Tommy's slipping hold on his inner thoughts, he caught sight of your retreating feet from the small truck through the bustle of the road separating you.

" Y/N!" his concerns for your wellbeing and sudden change in cheery demeanour had him seeing Charlie off with a nod of his head before he swerved through the traffic to get back to you.

" You know where I am" Sean quickly turned on his heel, confident that if things fell apart you'd return to him as a last resort and uphold your end of the unspoken deal made near a decade ago.

" You alright? Who was that, eh?" Tommy jogged up to you, cupping your elbow as his squinting eyes darted down the street through the lines of people.

" Can we go?" your eyes cautiously drifted up to his, searching for the madness Sean had seen the previous night, for the flickers of unpredictability you had put down to fatigue as Tommy nodded his head with a furrowed brow.

" Here, give it to me" he took the basket from your arm, head snapping over his shoulder to see none other than Sean turning into an alleyway with a smirk glaring back at him. A teasing grin that had Tommy's paranoia plummeting to the bottom of his stomach with a gut-wrenching fear that kept every fighting soldier up at night with worry across the channel in France. Betrayal.

Back in the warmth of your shared home, you unloaded the shopping onto the large mahogany table as Tommy began to circle around you with a nagging need for answers as he shrugged off his coat.

" Hungry?" you giggled with two packets of his biscuit of choice in each hand as an orange spark of a match caught your eye.

With only a shake of his head for an answer, you turned to the cupboard draws to tidy away the pile of groceries as Tommy watched you from across the table, jaw tethering with suspicion as he thumbed over the cigarette perched between his fingers.

" Couldn't sit there and do nothing?" his paranoia finally got the better of him after the many stories of betrayal told to him about his fellow soldiers sweethearts back home in England, began to pick at his memory.

" Hm?" you hummed, tiptoeing to reach the small cabinet of silverware for a place to stash the months' worth of biscuits brought by him. Unaware of the distrust that had already embedded itself into his tired mind.

" That's what you said in France. That you couldn't just sit back in England and do nothing. No?" the turn in his voice had you slowly settle your feet down onto the wooden floorboards as you caught his piercing stare in the silver platter in front of you.

" That's what I said" you lifted your chin in agreement, turning to face him with fidgety hands brushing down the front of your dress as your eyes flickered to and from his unwavering glare.

" Had nobody here to keep you company?" he worked his way around his unspoken accusations as it became clear to you that he'd caught sight of Sean. The mere glimpse of him, enough to provoke his slipping paranoia.

" Well, I had your Aunt and Ad..."

"Always fucking running. What were you running from this time, eh?" he interrupted, unconvinced by the answer that had grated at his mind ever since the day you left the trenches of France. Unconvinced of the story you had told him that spring day in 1914 down by the canal when he quizzed you about your reasons for returning to Birmingham.

"You running from something, Y/N? Someone?" he began to stalk forward, coming to stand in front of you as your hands clutched the kitchen worktop behind you at his frightening approach.

" What are you trying to say, Tommy?" you looked up at his searching eyes, blinking through the fatigue that had him questioning your loyalty towards him.

" Nothing" his lips pursed together, weighted breath lifting from his lungs as he snapped his head away to make space for the reasoning slowly pushing through his foggy thoughts.

So tired, so fucking tired, he pinched his brow as a thumping headache rattled against his skull.

" You...you must rest, Tommy. Sleep" you watched his broad shoulders hunch over the table as his back rose with a heavy sigh.

" Tommy?" you stepped forward, gently resting your hand on his broad frame, only for your gentle approach to quickly slip from him as he turned for the stairs.

"Where you going?" your rimmed eyes followed his heavy steps up the creaky stairs, head craning around the wall waiting on a response. "Tommy?"

" Following fucking orders" he mumbled under his breath from the top of the landing before the door to his bedroom slammed shut.

"Fuck..." you slumped back against the rattling walls, head thudding against the papered concrete in frustration.

Was he right to think you had betrayed him?, you blamed yourself for your decision to withhold the pushing factor that had you fleeing into the eye of the storm. Blamed yourself for the secrets you kept from him to safeguard his heart.

But a betrayal nonetheless, you ignored your reasoning behind your actions as you slid down to the wooden floorboards in tears, guilting yourself into believing that when trying to save your own back, you went behind his.

Yes. A betrayal, indeed. But not one of the heart that Tommy's paranoia would have him believe. But one from a place of care, in hopes of saving him from another crushing weight of worry that would weigh heavy on his mind. A mind that had returned needing to be nursed back together. One that was silently screaming for help. One you would see the depths of darkness it had been plunged into that very night when all those residing on Watery Lane drifted into a peaceful slumber. All but one, that was.

"Steady lads, steady" Tommy held his rifle tightly against his chest, eyes piercing through the heavy film of smog in front of him as his lieutenant walked along the muddy path with calls for the rows of men, stood behind the lines of ladders perched up against the banks of the trench, to keep calm.

"Let it be known that any man that attempts to flee will be shot for their cowardness" the high-ranking captain's command to stand fast echoed through the bitter winter's air as Tommy's icey breath drew from his lungs into a cloud of fog.

" Anything out there, Tom?" his fellow soldier whispered below as Tommy's creaking boots slowly stepped up the wooden railing to see a shadowy form slowly appear.

Fingers clutching tightly around the handle of his rifle, Tommy maneuvered his weapon over the muddy bank when his eyes suddenly widened in horror.

" Tommy..." your voice drifted to him, turning head searching for him as you walked barefoot through the frosty mud. Ends of your nightie embedded with ash and dirt trailing behind you.

" Y/N..." Tommy began to stir in his sleep as you lay beside him under the warmth of the padded duvet with your hands tucked close to your chest.

"Tommy, come home. Come back to me, Tommy" your voice sang across the empty field for him to reunite with you as he desperately blinked the vision of you from his straining eyes.

"Y/N, get down!" he shouted for you to take cover, startled by the gliding wings of a screeching hawk flying through the still air when the lieutenant in command pulled his reaching body from lunging over before the whistle sounded.

" 'ave you lost your fucking mind, son?! Not until my orders, understood?! he warned him by the scruff of his collar as Tommy's head darted over the bank to see an empty field, with only your voice calling his name.

"Tommy, come home" your whispers traveled across the barren land like a shiver down his back.

"Please, darling. Leave...please, leave" he slammed his eyes shut, chanting silently in prayer for your searching voice to stop, for his mind to stop the torment.

" Please..." you woke to the sound of Tommy incoherently mumbling beside you, eyes flicking behind his lids as he lay deep in sleep.

"Tommy, wake up" you turned, propping yourself onto bent elbows as you watched his face contort below you.

Eyes darting through the fog, Tommy heard the shouting orders from the enemies line preparing to push forward, break through the parting clouds as the sight of you stood vulnerable in the middle of the empty field hopelessly searching for him reappeared.

"Y/N..."

" I said stand down, soldier!" the lieutenant ordered, pulling his gun from its holster as he watched Tommy's booted heel scramble up the last step before running over into no man's land.

Helmet thrown from his head as he raced towards you, Tommy's eyes blurred with tears, face reddened with exertion when the whistle for the British army to follow echoed through the skies.

"Y/N!" he screamed your name as a peppering of bullets hit the ground, the sound of four hundred mens charging feet shook the earth below him.

" Y/N..." Tommy tossed his head from side to side as you pulled the sheets from him to see his straining body drenched in sweat.

" I'm here Tommy, wake up" you brushed his tousled hair from his eyes as a desperation arose in you to release him from his nightmares.

"I'm here, Tommy" locks of hair cascaded around your turning face as you reached your hand out for him to take when the tips of your fingers fell from each other's as a spray of bullets shot through your back. Staining your slip crimson with blood as his name left your lips, and you fell into his chest. "Tommy..."

"No, no, NO!" He fell to the floor, cradling your limp body in his arms as a silent scream, void of life, of a heart shattering into a thousand pieces stole the air from his lungs, until his eyes fell back to the heavens and a primal roar erupted from his chest into the still air.

" Tommy please, wake up!" you began to sob in a panic as you watched the colour drain from his face, his chest rise with heavy labored breaths. " Polly, help!"

Brushing his fallen tears from your pailing cheeks, Tommy rocked your lifeless body in his arms as he calmly reached for his gun, pointing the barrel under the soft flesh of his chin with eyes squeezed shut when the enemy charged through the parting fog.

Manic face contorting with fury, Tommy scrambled to his feet as the unstoppable fight within him resurfaced, driving him forward to the approaching enemy and the lone soldier he had sought out.

Rifle pointed at Tommy's chest, the young soldier's shaky fingers slipped from the trigger as Tommy threw him to the ground in a hand-to-hand fight that saw them battling in the mud as they both strained to reach for the weapon, slowly sinking underneath the trampled earth.

" Tommy, wake up!" you screamed, shaking his arms against the spring mattress when you suddenly felt yourself being thrown on to your back, the cold barrel of Tommy's revolver pushed to your temple with darkened eyes lifelessly looking through you.

" Tommy...Tomm..." your lungs battled for air against his heavy hand pushed into the bony flesh of your bruising chest as your strained attempts to throw him off, fought against his finger inching over the trigger.

" Thomas!" the mothering boom of Polly's voice rattled the walls as she threw open the door to see him looming over you with a gun pointed to your head.

"Pol...?" Tommy suddenly snapped himself out of the clutches of terror behind his eyes as he turned to see his aunt standing by the door.

" Put the gun down, Tommy" Polly commanded as she slowly approached, pointing to the revolver in his hand as Tommy eyes drifted underneath him to see your trembling body shaking with tears streaming you cheeks.

"Y/N..." his breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in horror at the gun pointed to your head as his hand went limp, letting the revolver slip from his fingers onto the cushion beside you.

Pulling yourself off the padded duvet with scrambling legs, you threw yourself into Polly's arms with terrified sobs.

" Darling please..." Tommy begged with reddened eyes as he reached for your trembling body, quickly recoiling to the end of the bed when you flinched away from his attempts to comfort you.

Blinking eyes drifting to the loaded gun nestled within the sheets of your bed, Tommy swallowed back the bile of fear rising in his throat as he scrambled to reassure you that things wouldn't have taken a deadly turn.

" Y/N I...I would have woken up. Darling, I would have never..." he stood to his feet, hand motioning to and from the metal weapon on your cushion, when his guarantees of control surrendered to the harrowing truth in his aunt's eyes staring back him.

"Leave"

*I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter in the comments below 💚*

[Next part] (coming soon!)

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@meadowshelby @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @novashelby @tiedyedghoulette

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ask-outside-stars · 3 days ago

Note

I have so many questions!

1. William, what are your favorite movies and/or TV shows to watch with Ford?

2. Have you considered checking out Epic: The Musical?

3. What is your favorite thing to do in bed with Ford? (Ford can answer this too of he wants)

4. When was the moment you realized you had caught feeling for Ford? (Again, Ford can answer too if he wants)

5. What is your favorite food?

6. What is your favorite book?

7. What are some things you look forward to doing once your able to move around again?

8. What do you think about when you look at the moon and stars?

9. Have you ever considered becoming a therapist, or was Bill Cipher more than enough?

10. Do you think you’ll return to Dipper & Mabel’s house for Thanksgiving, or will you skip this year and opt for a Friends-giving with Soos’ family and Stanley (or some other friends that I’m forgetting)?

Ford sets down the paper filled with questions in front of Will, who rubs his hands excitedly like he's about to dig into a rich chocolate cake.

Will: "Oh boy! These are all great questions! Let's see here..."

Will: "Fordsy and I really like watching documentaries and sci-fi movies together. When we watch sci-fi, I always ask him to point out the inaccuracies and we both take turns telling stories about our times through the multiverse."

Ford chuckles.

Ford: "Half the time we don't even remember what the movie was about."

Will: "Question two... oh! I've heard of it! Mabel introduced me to a few of the songs, and I've been guilty of belting out quite a few of them in the shower. Or while cleaning. Or when I think I'm alone. Or when I'm working."

Ford: "He's saying he likes it."

Ford: "Let's see, question three..."

Will: "Other than the obvious, does sleeping count?"

Ford hides a laugh in his hand as Will grins cheekily at him. Will's face then falls a little at question four and he takes on a thoughtful appearance.

Will: "Hm. First life or second? In my first life, when I was Bill, I realized I loved him after he tried to shut the portal down. I didn't know that's what I felt for him at the time and I handled it... poorly. In my second and current life, I realized that what I felt for Ford went beyond just simple attraction after a few dates. He just felt so familiar to me."

Ford takes his hand.

Ford: "For me, I fell for you at first sight when you were Bill. And, well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the same case again with you as Will. Although, I suppose 'love' is a generous word, but I certainly felt intrigued by you immediately. Love came naturally afterwards."

Will: "You sap~"

Will pulls Ford into a kiss, who laughs against Will's mouth and reminds him that he still has some questions to answer.

Will: "Favorite food, huh? Easy! Spaghetti! Or any kind of Mexican food. Abuelita's been teaching me some of her recipes, and Soos has been a great taste-tester."

Will: "And my favorite book? The one I wrote, duh! Where is it anyway?"

Ford: "I... well, I can't quite recall. I think first I tried throwing it into the bottomless pit, then setting it on fire..."

Will gasps dramatically and looks offended.

Will: "You bastard! I worked hard on that!"

Ford: "O- oh look! Another question for you!"

Will glares at Ford then answers the next one.

Will: "My mobility gets stronger every day. I'm especially looking forward to our wedding dance."

Ford: "Just please don't push yourself too hard. You know how I worry."

Will: "To address number eight, I feel a sort of melancholy, if I'm being honest. I used to be able to hold the stars in my hand, and explore the vast reaches of the endless sky. I once saw beyond the furthest star and flew to the greatest heights... but not anymore. I miss it sometimes."

Ford takes his hand in a comforting gesture and reads question nine for Will.

Will: "You know, that's actually a great idea! I'd have to go back to school for that though, wouldn't I? To become a licensed therapist and all."

Ford shrugs.

Ford: "I'm sure Stanley could whip up a fake license. But if you do want to go through official channels, you'd have my support."

Will sighs dreamily and Ford decides to answer the next question for him.

Ford: "Will isn't strong enough to make the journey all the way to California, so we'll be hosting Thanksgiving here in Gravity Falls. Sherman's already agreed to attend, so I'm sure he'll be able to drag Lexi and Herschel out here as well. It would be nice for them to meet our Gravity Falls family, after all."

#gravity falls #outside stars #bill cipher #stanford pines #billford

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thats-cantorintuitive · 6 months ago

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small update

ok so um I got my number theory paper today, and the TA had cut marks for me because i left the answer at 66^2 and not 4356 (fermat's little theorem) 😔 I even wrote the full proof

my friend told me I should mail the TA about this, I got 14/20 and should be getting 17or18/20 😔

scores aside, number theory is so much fun, so much fun. the only good thing here is that I know the concepts well, and I fully knew the paper (still fucked it up, because I'm so frickin slow while writing and time). and it hurts worse because there's not enough proof that validates my knowledge. which in turn makes me question if i actually do have any.

I am, in general, a person who does well in concepts but screws up the exams (70% of the time) and I'm trying, I'm trying to get myself out of this "exam paniK" that I often spiral into, just minutes before the exam. I hope I change and grow; I hope, I hope.

#im so sorry for this meltdown once again #so sorry #and for the paper - many people got 20 #it was actually a very easy paper and yes 20 was doable #even i could've gotten a 20 had i not screwed up the way i did #and i feel so bad to even say “had i not screwed up...” the excuse sounds horrible to my ears #well what is done is done #i can only try better next time #this course might just end up being the easiest to get an A #let's hope that I don't fuck up this one too #after seeing my paper i just returned it and came back #and my friend was like “ok. why did u not ask them why you've lost so much when the concepts are all right there on your paper?”#and i was like “um so should i ask them?” she went “YES.”#but by the time i went back to the hall the TAs had left so i have to mail mine now #and im very worried that she wouldn't change the current grading #last time i missed an A in math by 1/2 marks and i don't want the same thing to happen this time 😔😔#oh god ONE good thing can help me right now please #ru's trying #JUST 1 good thing #just give me ONE #i was so out of sorts today i slept for ~5 hours during the day and missed my calc class #i deliberately missed it though bc i wasn't feeling up to mark #i regret not going but my brain simply said no we're not there atm so maybe it was for the better #once again im so so SO sorry for the meltdowns lately #it's been bad rains and cloudy days in my head for a while now #i hope for the sun soon

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

#ONE CABIN 🏚️#ONE BAND #ONE DREAM #ONE DIRECTION #IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN HAHAHAHA #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

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theonottsbxtch · 5 months ago

Text

MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81

an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request

wc: 2.5k

Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.

"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.

In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.

Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.

“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.

She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.

As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.

He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.

Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.

Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.

It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.

That number didn’t look right.

Surely it was missing a decimal.

Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.

Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"

She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"

Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…

"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.

She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."

He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."

"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."

He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.

"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.

"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."

Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.

He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.

She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.

He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”

She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”

He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”

She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”

She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”

“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”

She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”

“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”

She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.

“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.

He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”

“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.

“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”

“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.

“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”

He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”

She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”

Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.

“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”

“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”

She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”

She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”

Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.

He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”

He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”

“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”

She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”

He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.

He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”

“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”

She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”

“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”

Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.

the end.

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kazusys · 7 months ago

Text

— hugging scenarios.

genshin men in different scenarios revolving around hugging. (❕) a/n: will maybe do a pt. 2. suggest (male) characters! :]

characters included: kazuha, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer, tighnari, cyno, kaeya, and diluc.

kazuha nuzzles his head in your neck as you run your fingers through his un-ponytailed hair, your back facing him as you focus mainly on what you’re reading.

he’s gripping you tightly, thinking up reasons of how he’d be able to explain throwing your book with your notes inside across the room solely to steal your attention away from working so much. he means the best— really!

as much as it is tempting, kazuha wouldn’t dare make you upset at him for ruining your papers. instead, he’ll patiently wait and continue softly humming and kissing your neck until you finish. he’d wait for as long as you wish, if it only meant you’d eventually hold him in your arms at the end.

he hears you sigh a few minutes later. “ah… i think that should be it.”

he watches in anticipation as you put your research on the nightstand and turn to face him, a soft smile on your face as you apologize. “sorry, love.”

kazuha simply shakes his head as he brings you in closer, kissing your lips in earnest.

“xiao?” you call out, a little bit of a stutter coming out at the end. it was absolutely freezing out here. it was a good thing you brought a jacket, but even then.

you felt a breeze behind you as you turned to face the beloved adepti materializing out of nowhere.

the smile you wore quickly changed as you panicked seeing what he was wearing. reaching for your coat buttons, you cut off whatever he was about to say with, “are you crazy?! you’ll die of hypothermia wearing that in this weather! oh my gosh, xiao—”

“it’s really—” he tries to make a sentence again, only to be shut off by you wrapping your piece of clothing around his shoulders, directing his arms to go through the sleeves.

although he was used to this sort of cold weather, he appreciated the thought. but the odd warm fuzzy feelings that usually overtook his chest whenever you did something kind for him didn’t fully spread this time around, seeing that your sleeveless top and thin enough pants barely sheltered you at all from the snow starting to come down.

it was his turn to reprimand you as he sighed, “you’re calling me crazy, and yet you’re the one wearing a sleeveless shirt in the middle of one of our coldest periods. what were you thinking?”

despite him looking annoyed, he came towards you and swiftly picked you up bridal style, earning a small yelp as you were swept off your feet (literally) and teleported over to wangshu inn.

you quickly got over the initial shock, a smile returning to your lips. “y’know, that’s technically qualified as kidnapping.”

“shut up.” he responded, although with no malicious hint in his voice. he made sure to kiss you afterwards though, just for some extra warming up.

scaramouche hates you, he swears. he hates you (affectionately), he hates you (lovingly), he hates you (with absolutely no hate behind his words).

but, let’s be honest, he really doesn’t.

he loves you so badly it hurts. it hurts to think that one day, you might leave him like everyone else has. even after everything, even after he got rid of his name scaramouche, sometimes those seeds of doubt still manage to plague him, even though you’ve been with him through it all. damn his stupid past.

but, oh. the way those seeds get crushed under the weight of his non-existent heart expanding as you hug him tightly, your arms squeezing him unlike a thing but a human.

he holds back his tears as he lets himself be held by you, his own arms holding you just as tight as he leaves a kiss, albeit shaky, on your jaw.

when you rub his back comfortingly, he lets the smallest tear run down his porcelain face before burying his head into your collarbone, letting the rest fall as he recites his feelings; true and sincere.

vulnerable is a word you’d describe him as in this moment. though he’ll never admit that this scene happened afterwards, you know that he knows that whenever he’s in need of some love and affection, you’ll be there for him.

he loves you so, so much; mean words be damned.

tighnari, always so caring and hardworking. but it wouldn’t kill him to take a break once in a while, no?

“i swear, i will go into the forest and get one of those mushrooms that you’ve been so cautious around and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop working right now,” you threaten, even if from your ears it sounds empty.

he sighs in return, knowing that you wouldn’t go to sleep until he joined you. especially since he’s been skipping out these past few days. he got up a bit too quickly, wincing at the way his head spun when doing so. “fine, fine. archons, my head hurts…”

“that’s what happens,” you shrug, taking his hands and walking to the bed. he sits with you, blinking the heaviness of his eyes away as you suddenly hug him.

tighnari exhales at the feeling, he should really thank you for saving him from his continuous workloads…

you scratch behind his ears, watching his tail twitch before swishing lowly back and forth. he embraces you back, his eyes coming to a pleasant close. he really needs the sleep.

before he does get the rest; though, he mutters to you a quiet, “thank you, love you s‘much.”

and finally, he drifts off, you in his arms. what more could he ask for?

what a stoic guy that cyno is. and with the absolute worst jokes leaving his mouth, it’s a wonder that the two personalities living in his body are residing in the same person.

he’s telling you jokes as you’re cuddling with him, you mindlessly running your hands through his hair and commenting on his words as he tells them and explains if you don’t get it.

oh, and you’re doing a try not to laugh challenge. did i mention that cyno’s jokes are like, collectively the worst?

he has one goal in mind: tell a good enough joke to hear you laugh and claim victory.

he likes hearing you genuinely laugh. he likes the sound. he likes the swell of pride whenever you laugh because of him.

so as he dishes out one of his newer bests and awaits your judgement, he’s happily surprised hearing a small noise from you before turning into a full chuckle.

he doesn’t think he’s ever had the urge to hug you as tightly as he has now (okay okay, this is a lie. it’s on par with when he confessed and you agreed and the other times you’ve laughed at his jokes).

“cyno— you’re gonna break my ribs!…”

“this is my reward.”

“kaeya… go get some rest. you’re too drunk to be up right now.”

“i don’t wanna. i want to stay with you,” he says, emphasizing it by hugging you tighter. he’s behind you, his form practically towering over yours as you try to keep your composure.

he must’ve really drunk a lot tonight.

you sigh. “i'll be there soon, okay? i just have to finish—”

“you can do whatever—” he hiccups, “—it is tomorrow.”

you sigh again. first you had to pick him up from the tavern, already interrupting what you had planned tonight. now this.

however, you know it’s not really a complaint.

you’re glad he’s honest when drunk. you just can’t stop that warm feeling in your chest knowing that he genuinely wants you to himself.

well, might as well give him what he wants.

diluc can feel your hands around him as he’s busy scrubbing glasses, already having refused you four times in wanting to help him. not because he thinks you’re incapable of not breaking anything— just the opposite, actually— but he doesn’t want you to work because of him.

especially with all the work you’ve already had today. on second thought, you may break a glass from dozing off for a moment from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting. he thinks it’s better for you to rest as he’s doing his job.

he’s not moving much, thankfully. the tavern’s already closed, and it’s just you and him in there. he’s thinking about all the different ways he could carry you home in your half asleep state.

last cup done. finally, he can close up and go home with you and sleep soundly with you in his arms… yeah, that sounds good.

he turns slowly to face you, making your head raise to meet his eyes. you smile, albeit tiredly— but not failing to bring one of his own to diluc’s face nonetheless.

he kisses your lips softly. “let’s go home now.”

©️kazusys — 1/9/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

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lolitalovess · 28 days ago

Text

rockstar vi touching herself to playboy model reader ♡

warnings: this is kind of part 2 to my first one, masturbation, fingering, brief mention of alcohol, vi is a loser, rec from anon, this is absolute ass and very short i'm sorry, i wrote this while sitting in the waiting room at the eye doctor, that's it i think.

｡･ﾟ･♡･ﾟ･｡ vi can't stop thinking about when she had the fortune association of meeting you. you're burned into her head like a branding, the image of how you looked that night, how you talked and carried yourself- she misses the taste of you when you were in that bathroom stall with her and holyfuckyou'renotreturninghercalls.

a brand new playboy magazine with you plasterered on the front cover had just come out and of course she bought it like a horny teenage boy as soon as she heard about it after playing a show. the famous rockstar herself wasn't even amusing the thought of what it'd look like if her fanbase saw her buying a porn magazine the same hour it came out. she just needed you.

she layed on her old leather couch the moment she got back to her apartment, limbs sprawled over it with empty bottles of alcohol on the coffee table in front of it. she was mindlessly flipping through the thin pages of the magazine, eyes boring into each image and deciding if it was worthy or not with the only true thought running through her head was seeing you.

her moans are mixed with the sound of nightime in la when she sees you after another flip of a page- the distant sounds of police sirens and cars honking and people walking on the cold streets the moment she flips a page and brings her free hand to quickly unzip her jeans and rub lazy circles on her clit.

you're on your knees, your bare ass in the air with your elbows propping you up, your only prop is your hair and the cherry red telephone you're holding to your ear.

she sees your familiar eyes on paper looking into hers like they did when the gleam of the blue lighting radiated down on the two of you when she met you in the same club she's been going back to every night ever since you haven't been returning her calls.

it's like you're taunting her, like you asked to hold a telephone and to look into the camera lense because you just knew that she'd see this, like you knew that she'd be touching herself to you.

she threw her head back on the armrest of the old leather while her eyes focused on your tits that were barely visible, instinctively spreading her legs apart almost as if you were there between them. she moans and her hole clenches around nothing at the thought, and all she can do is slip her fingers inside her and pump them as quick as possible.

the familiar sound of her pussy squelching and her moans filled her ears with her eyes focused on you, and they never had any plans of leaving whatsoever. she wants you to fuck her backstage before and after every show, to watch your tits bounce and hands grip at her biceps to stabilise yourself.

her back arched off her couch and her eyes roll to the back of her head at the thought, her heart shaped lips open in a moan when she pumps her fingers faster and her cum stains the inside of her jeans. she fucks herself through it, pretending it's you who's doing so. she's had sex with you before, right? she's not creepy for pretending you're fucking her when she looks at naked pictures of you.

later, she's walking through her apartment to reticently reach for the phone to call you for what felt like the most repeated thing she's done this week.

she hears the phone beep before it stops, her heart skipping like a loser at the realisation that you've answered.

"hi." she says over the phone, her voice sounding more sad than she'd ever like. "you haven't been answering my calls."

"i know, i'm sorry i ditched you. going to cancun for work." you explained.

"without me?"

"you can't come. it's for my work."

"i'll see you there. my and my buddies will find you." she spoke, and she knows you know who she is now. she knows you know that you're stuck with her.

#vi #vi arcane #violet arcane #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #arcane #violet x reader #arcane vi x you #vi arcane x reader #piltover's finest #♡

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oceantornadoo · 1 month ago

Text

ch13 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: allusions to torture. reader has some ptsd. SMUT.

also i did not edit this srry

masterlist | next

“Again.”

Johnny sighs to his right, but Simon ignores it, too concerned with the man in the chair in front of him. “Say it again.” The man in the chair (Richard, 34, nephew of a Price uncle, twice-removed or some bullshit) spits out a glob of blood on the floor before clearing his throat. “The night the weapons were stolen I was at home with my wife. We watched a new episode of one of those trashy American shows, The Bachelor, that dropped that night. I was off-shift. Came in at 6am because of the Mrs. Price emergency.” Simon’s eyebrow twitches under his mask. Three days after getting his sister back and this is what sniffs out the rat? An American show Johnny loves to pirate? He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Johnny catches his eye and he can’t fault the man for the grin on his face. When Simon turns back to Richard, red in the face, he’s pretty sure the man’s figured it out. “The Bachelor drops Mondays.”

Richard sputters, twitching. “We were catchin’ up from the week before.” Simon shakes his head, glancing at the papers on the table to his left. “You had off every other night that week and only got to it by Sunday? Tellin’ me the wife keeps up with the drop schedule but waited six days?” He walks closer to Richard, gloved hands gripping the man’s jaw tightly. He presses his fingers into the bruise near his mouth, pressing hard until he breaks.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m in debt, man, 50,000 Euros. No one knows so when I lost to the guy at that shithole of a bar and he offered me a job, I couldn’t say no! He said it was just a few documents, wouldn’t hurt anyone…” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Before Simon can grab a tool from the wall, Johnny clears his throat. “Let me, sir. Gaz called. You’re needed at base.” That could only mean one thing. Simon nods, swallowing thickly as he leaves the room to the sound of screams.

It’s a half hour drive back to the Castle, but it feels like eons. Simon changes his gloves and mask with the limo partition up, even swapping his sweatshirt out for your benefit. The smell of blood fades when the fabric is removed, bundled into a trash bag he leaves in the car. When Simon double checks his phone, his hands are shaking. Another oddity of the week, too miniscule to dwell on.

It’s been three days since he last saw you, cuddled up in Price’s arms like an injured stray. For all Simon has tried to protect you from, the insults of childhood and your shared shitty father, it worries him to think you got hurt despite his greatest efforts. There’s no doubt that you’re a strong woman, but he’s not sure what Shepherd did to you and no matter what, there’s only so much a person can take. The guilt that’s been following him since the marriage is heavy like a chain, weighing down his every motion. Did he marry you off too early? Was Price the wrong pick? Thoughts swirl like a snowstorm in his head, only stopping when the car pulls up to the Castle.

It’s the perfect home he would have picked for you, given the chance. Sophisticated wealth, nothing flashy or too pretentious. Gaz mentioned that you redecorated, and he can see parts of you in the artwork, in the new chairs meant for casual conversation instead of just functionality. You’ve turned the base into a home and the guilt creeps up again thinking of how you might have never returned to it.

“Mr. Riley.” The door guards nod at Simon as he walks through. He feels out of place in his hoodie, used to his lax uniform in Manchester. Price styles himself more as a businessman than Simon ever has. He hides the scars with gloves and a mask but he doesn’t delude himself into thinking of himself as a professional. He’s more like the head of a wolf pack, barking and snarling at anyone who gets too close. Nothing like Price and he’s glad for it. You deserve someone who can give you a semblance of a normal life, pretending like he’s going to work at an office instead of meeting illicit weapons dealers on the edge of town.

Gaz is waiting for him in the foyer, immaculate in a deep blue button-up. It’s the first time he’s seen the man shaved, a testament to the bonds that you forged with Price men that were tested in the past week. “Ghost.” Gaz nods, leading him through the Castle. “How is she?” Gaz walks slower than usual, seeming to need more time before bringing Simon upstairs. “She’s…recovering. Been talking with a trauma therapist the Captain trusts.” Simon nods. He can’t imagine what they put you through, why John ordered him to find a new set of clothes when they found you. Everything he learns is a strike against Phil, whenever Simon finds him. John promised him retribution.

“How is she physically? They hurt her?” Gaz stops in front of the stairs, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “She’s skittish. Can’t approach ‘er from behind, got t’ give ‘er plenty of warnin’. I only saw her last night when she came down for some food, ‘s the first time she’s been out of the room. The Captain’s given me a temporary title while he’s taking care of ‘er.” It’s not temporary. Simon can sense it, leadership senses setting off alarms. Loyalty, initiative, intelligence - Gaz has it all. A fine replacement if he’s ever seen one. Too bad Johnny hates him.

Simon nods, ready to see his sister. Before he can step up the stairs, Gaz clears his throat. “If you can, sir, convince her to drink some water? Last night, all she could do was look at the glass.” Christ. What did they do to you?

When Simon climbs up the stairs, you’re lounging in the sitting room, swathed in clothes too big for you. The couch you’re on is out of place, tugged from its original spot so the back is now against the wall. Tactical. He ensures his steps are loud so you sit up with a smile instead of a shudder. “Si!” You grin and his heart stops at the fact you still have the ability to. They didn’t take everything. “Hey, love. Can I hug ya?” You nod, setting your book down with your arms reaching up. “I missed you.” You murmur as he hugs you. The angle is awkward as he towers over you but he doesn’t particularly care, sitting down next to you while keeping you in his arms.

“How ya doin’, kid?” He asks when you release him. Simon slips off his medical mask into his pocket. On closer look, you’re wearing John’s clothes, the name of some obscure London footie team emboldened on the chest. He can hear the man’s voice come from behind the closed bedroom door, likely on a phone call. “I’m okay. John got me a therapist and she’s really helping. She specializes in kidnapping victims and immediate solutions and…yeah. Isn’t that a bit weird, saying I’ve been kidnapped?” On second look, you don’t look your best. There’s circles on your eyes and faded bruises on your jaw, like someone grabbed it and forced it open. Instead of answering, Simon brushes the soft skin of your neck until he can find your pulse. You don’t jolt like he expected you to, instead curling into the feeling of his familiar touch.

“I knew somethin’ was wrong ‘fore Gaz called. Had this dream of you screamin’ my name, askin’ for my help from somewhere far. When I woke, I just knew. Ready to tear the world apart f’ you, kiddo. You’re still my little sister to protect.” A tear escapes your eye. He brushes it away, then squeezes your cheek like a grandmother would before pulling back. “I’m still lookin’ f’r others who were involved. They’ll get what’s coming for ‘em.” You nod, catching his hand before he pulls back completely. “Thank you for that, Si, but also, I just- just need you here, you know? I think your presence here will do a lot more for me than being an avenging angel.” He gets it, he does, but he didn’t get to kill Shepherd. He was John’s but Phil is Simon’s and no matter what, he will be found. “Think there’s a way f’r us to split it?” It. His time. Your wants, his needs.

You squeeze his hand and nod. “I think so.” You croak out. Simon can sense the need for levity, so he starts telling you about how Johnny almost got himself blown up a few weeks ago when dealing with a Chinese chemical supplier. Simon’s not usually the joker between you two but he channels the infectious energy of his husband, in pursuit of making you laugh. You finally giggle when he mimics the windblown look on Johnny’s face, even putting in the effort to mimic his mohawk with his hands. It’s goofy and reminiscent of your childhood, the ghost of Tommy making a rare appearance in the corner of the room. Your kidnapping has sent Simon off the edge and out of character, desperate to do anything to repair what has been broken.

The bedroom door creaks open and John’s heavy footsteps follow. “Hi, sweetheart.” John approaches the couch head on, kissing your forehead before nodding at Simon. “Simon.” He nods back, not feeling the need to put his mask back on. “John.” “What is this?” Your eyes flick between the two of them, brows furrowed. Simon looks at John, who shrugs. “What’re ya talkin about?” You frown at Simon’s words, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Since when is there a bromance? What did I miss?” John sighs, dragging a hand down his face. Simon reaches out to ruffle your hairdo, smiling when you screech and bat his hand away. “‘S called mutual respect, sweetheart. Not sure what a bromance is.” You mock John’s sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ll be wearing friendship bracelets by the end of this year if you keep going on this trajectory.” The men lock eyes with twin glances of horror.

“On that note, you good if I pop in downstairs, sweetheart? Gaz needed help on something.” A look of understanding passes between you two, a look Simon has felt time and time again with his husband. It’s like a punch to the gut in the softest way possible. “All good, I’ll be here with Simon.” John nods, kissing your forehead before taking a few steps back towards the staircase. Before he can leave, Simon clears his throat. “John, you have any condos or safehouses in the area you aren’t usin’?” John’s eyes flicker with a different kind of understanding. “Enough space for two, I gather?” Simon nods, ignoring how you’re kicking his shin. “For a month or two, at least.” You kick him harder and he shoves your foot away in a playful push. “I’ll see what I can do.” John responds, nodding before heading down the stairs.

“You’re stayin’?” When he turns to look at you, your lip is quivering. He sighs in faux exhaustion before tugging your legs on top of his. “‘Course I’m stayin’. Can’t let my baby sister fight alone.” You shyly wipe your eyes before meeting his own. “What about the business in Manchester?” He shrugs, acting like he didn’t spend hours on the phone with his best men last night. “It’s what I’ve got men for. Plus, you can show me ‘round.” Instead of squealing or jumping him, you give him a small smile. It feels older and mellow, something he hates. “Thanks, Si.” He squeezes your foot. He wants to bring up the water drinking, but you seem a little fragile right now. He’s got time now, something he won’t miscount. “‘S what I’m here for. Now tell me the rest ‘f y’r redecoratin’ plans. That entryway could use some work.” You grin and he’s reminded of the toothy five-year old, playing hide and seek in the Riley house of horrors. A survivor, through and through.

Every day passes faster than the last. You find out your therapist, Marie, is actually Dr. Marie Laswell, Kate’s wife. She promises you that despite their marriage, everything you share is confidential and stays between you. It’s hard work, recounting everything that happened in your daily meetings. John is there, kissing your forehead and cuddling you after nightmares, like the perfect gentleman. As the adrenaline drains and you find yourself living again, you crave more than that.

You want to go back to your last fight. You know it could be self-sabotage, but in the confines of the Castle, it’s like nothing can harm you. John only has guards you know working. Terrance stops by once or twice, telling you he got promoted. Simon visits whenever he can. Your reunion with Johnny is heartfelt and strong. Gaz feels like a son now, protective and firm about your security. All of these facts coalesce into a suit of armor, knowing that as long as you don’t leave the building, you are safe.

Marie tells you it’s not the healthiest mindset. You remind her progress is progress. She sighs in a way that reminds you of her wife.

The one-month anniversary of your kidnapping creeps up on you, haunting the corners of your mind. There’s an ache deep in your heart to return to normal, no matter what he said about finding a new one. You want so badly to change without looking over your shoulder. On rainy days, there’s a phantom ache in the side of your arm that Phil sunk a syringe into. He’s still in the wind, a fact that agitates Simon more and more. Small wins happen too. There are days you don’t need John at home, content with phone calls throughout the day and a long dinner at night. You’ve gone on two (2!) walks by yourself, passing through the park across from the Castle as guards trail behind you and at the corners of the park. You’ve progressed to Gatorade and flavored carbonated water but still jump at unknown touches. Except, of course, John’s.

Every night runs like clockwork. You shower, John standing outside the door like a protective hound. Then you slip on a robe and let him in, brushing your teeth and finishing your routine together. He leaves to ‘check something’ and always returns with a new non-water liquid he wants you to try, like a new Gatorade or flavor of tea. In the time he’s gone, you change. You’ve graduated from speed-changing to taking your time, rubbing lotion on your body before slipping on pajamas. When John comes back, you cuddle and talk, and then lights out.

The same damn routine. Every. Night. You feel like a nun.

The anniversary passes without little fanfare. John takes the day off, unusual but part of the new normal. Gaz is left in charge again, a fact he’s getting more used to. When you wake in the morning, something else new happens.

Morning light warms your eyelids. John’s arm is a comfortable weight around your waist, his forearm hair rubbing the patch of your stomach exposed by your raised shirt. Something pulses low in your belly. When he turns to pull you closer into him, your stomach flutters. His face tucked into your neck, the weight of him searing as his body is half-slung over yours. It’s a welcome change from how you usually find yourself on top of him, like he’s pinning you to reality. A body scan reveals wetness between your thighs and a keenness between your lips.

When you cant your hips slightly, chasing that fluttering feeling, his cock twitches in his sweats where it’s against the outside of your thigh. You tilt them higher, fighting against the weight of him, and smile when his cock twitches again. “Go t’sleep.” He groans, rough and sleepy into your ear. Instead of listening, you push your thigh outwards to the heavy weight of him.

“Watch what y’r doin’, pet.” Pet is new. Unlocking a new nickname sends a thrill down your spine. You ignore the connotations behind it. “John…” You whisper, injecting an extra breath of air into your speech. He pulls his head up, hair mussed and eyes blurry. He’s beautiful.

He props himself up on his forearm, giving your own arm freedom to move. You do so, sliding it from his neck to his torso, snaking down to follow his happy trail. “What d’ya think y’r doin’?” You run your fingers through his trimmed body hair, only dipping slightly into the elastic of his boxers. “I want to feel you.” You blink at him with wide eyes. He pulls his core backwards, letting your hand drop on the mattress. “Y’r not ready.” You frown, scooting back into your pillows so you can properly meet his eyes. “I think I get to decide that, John.” He closes his eyes, sighing. “I was readin’ an article and-” You huff, pulling back further until you’re sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“This is the problem we have, John. You trust external sources more than me.” If he was a weaker man, he’d look whiplashed. Unfortunately, you got a husband prepared for anything, a man who can argue at the drop of a hat. “I’m jus’ sayin’, sweetheart, maybe we wait. I don’t want t’ hurt ya.” You scoff, pulling your knees to your chest. “Can you trust when I say you won’t hurt me? That I can handle myself and know my limits?” He’s silent for a second too long.

You launch yourself out of the bed, heading for the bathroom. He’s faster than you, weak from weeks of lethargy, beating you to the punch to stand in front of the door instead of tugging you back into him. “Stop.” You place a hand on his chest, intent to push him away, but all he does is cover it with his own. “Can you jus’ wait for a second?” That’s when you take a second look at your husband. How he’s panting like he’s out of breath, even if you know he goes for runs every day. His pupils are blown and feral, a predator in the wild. You stand for a bit, letting your palm track how his breaths go in and out of his chest.

“Deep breaths for me, baby.” How nostalgic it feels, the roles reversed as this time it’s you talking him off a ledge. His breathing calms after a minute, eyes going tame as he squeezes the life out of your hand. When he’s calmed, he speaks. “The last time you ran from me after an argument, you were taken from me.” Your heart breaks a little at the weakness he lets you see. Your hand slides up into his beard, brushing over the rough strands as you look in his eyes. “I wasn’t running, John. I just needed some space.” He shakes his head in disagreement. “Ya don’t know what it felt like, seein’ you step into tha’ car an’ gettin’ a call hours later that you were gone.” You nod, biting your lip.

“You’re right, John. I don’t know. And you don’t know how my brain works. You don’t know how harsh grips trigger me but yours never have.” Understanding brews in his eyes, cloudy like a cup of coffee. He pulls you in closer by the waist, lining you up until your pelvises meet. “I get it, sweetheart. I trust you.” You exhale a breath at his words.

“I didn’t take ya on tha’ trip months ago because I was meetin’ a new supplier an’ I didn’t trust him. You know firsthand now how dangerous my world is. I know you’ve lived this life, but London is more cutthroat than Manchester could ever be. ‘M not sorry f’r smotherin’ ya, because at least y’r safe. ‘S my number one concern in this world.” It’s terrible, how you don’t care that he’s admitted that he smothers you. How all you care about is how he knew what you were referencing, even if it was from months ago.

“How do I know you want me for me?” Another concern of yours from your fight before the kidnapping. He shrugs, giving you a wry smile. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

You drag him into the bathroom, jumping onto the counter and pulling him between your legs. You practically maul his face, kissing him with unrestrained want. His admission flipped a switch in you, a longing that’s been asleep for a while. It wakes up when he pulls you closer to his pelvis, your clothed cunt rubbing against the outline of his cock. You’re still wet from earlier, your folds sticking to airy fabric.

“Didn’t want it like this.” He breathes behind your ear. John sucks a soft patch of skin there, licking at the sweat from your sleep before trailing down your neck. “Wanted t’ eat ya out f’r an hour ‘fore even pullin’ my cock out.” You run a hand down his rigid back muscles, pulling at the fabric until he lets you tug it off. John laves his tongue at your neck, alternating between sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. His hands grip your hard, thumbs inching closer and closer to your core. You’re wearing shorts without underwear, a perfect combination that he soon discovers. “What else?” You moan, leaning your head back until it hits the mirror behind you. It’s perfect, knowing there’s nothing but a wall behind your back. It calms the worried part of your brain, letting you fully focus on the moment.

“Then I’d let ya suck my cock, get it nice an’ warm in tha’ mouth of yours. Let you rub y’r cunt against me.” You whine at the image, nails digging into his back as he continues making out with your neck. Finally, he tugs your sleep shirt off, trailing downwards to suck at your tits. He squeezes one while sucking the other, pulling hard enough to make it hurt. There’s no part of him you can reach, the angle of it awkward and wrong. The solution is to trail your free hand up your thigh, passing his hands to push the fabric of your shorts aside and thumb at your clit. “Wha’s this, hm?” He murmurs, switching to your other tit. “Wanna be ready f’ you, John.” The wetness seeping from your cunt makes it easy to slip a finger in, stretching yourself in preparation for your husband. He’s letting you set the rhythm in a way he usually doesn’t, and you love him for it, something you don’t think too hard about.

“Let me?” He asks and you nod immediately. He replaces your hand with his own, sliding two thick fingers into your hole. You clench immediately at the intrusion, more out of tension than fear. John stops, glancing up at you from where he’s leaning down. “Need me to stop?” You shake your head, moving your hips forward so his fingers slide in deeper. “It’s just been a while.” John is still stopped, searching your face for something. “I trust you, John. I need you to say it back or this won’t work.” His eyes don’t leave your face, nodding slowly. “I trust you with my life, baby. An’ I trust ya with yours. You gonna let me stretch you out?” Instead of answering, you start to grind slowly, fucking yourself on his fingers. His gaze drops down, watching your cunt squeeze him tight.

“How’d I get so lucky, hm? Perfect wife, dropped right into my lap.” John makes you work for it, angling his thumb so your clit hits it with every grind. It’s the most work your body has done in months and you love it, love the burn in your muscles as you command them to work. “This is goin’ t’ be a lot shorter than I wanted it t’ be, pet. Can’t focus when y’r mewlin’ f’r my cock like this.” You whine at his words. John pulls his fingers out, a string of slick trailing after them. He rubs them against your chest, pointed nipples scraping against your own wetness. The friction makes you delirious and needy in his arms. “John, I need you.” He hums, that same hand pushing down his sweats to reveal his cock, thick and heavy in his hand. He gives it a pump and you watch him spread your slick around it, mixing with his precum to make it even smoother.

“Last chance, baby.” John lines his cock up with your cunt. He rubs it up and down, catching on your clit every other time. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me, John.” His name on your lips is punctuated with a gasp as he pushes into you. You let out a string of curses at the intrusion. No matter how many times John has given you his fingers, the blunt width of his cock is so much more. It’s been over a year since you’ve fucked someone, and it’s never been like this. It’s never been dark blue eyes filled with trust and care, flicking down every so often to watch his cock go in and out. It’s never been dangling over the precipice of an orgasm so fast, the speed of it hitting you like a lightning strike. He fucks you through it, his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down at where you’re joined. You watch your tits and stomach bounce at his movements and you watch as he hungers for it.

John’s a talker. This you’ve known, but it’s never been like this.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well. Fuckin’ made f’r it.”

“Y’r cunny’s so tight, baby. This all for me?”“So desperate for it, pet.”

“Such a good girl for daddy. C’mon, say it.”

It makes you clench and mewl and claw at his back. He tries to kiss you but all you can do is let your mouth fall open and pant against him. Your first orgasm left you weak-willed, eager to follow his instructions. You nod your assent to every word, sweat dripping into your eyes. The second orgasm builds slow in your core. It burns with every thrust, every brush of your clit that John’s thumb makes. You lean your head back so it hits the mirror, suddenly realizing that your actions echo each other in the mirror behind John.

Your mouth is open. Sweat makes your skin glisten. You settle your weight on your hands and arch your back, a glimpse of your tits visible in the glass. It means you look almost whorish but it doesn’t matter because it’s for your husband, whose muscled back ripples with every thrust. That’s the image that sends you over the edge, whining John’s name as you fall off the edge.

“Where, baby?” John meets your eyes with a burning question. You look down at the creamy ring around his cock, the slight of it sending another hazy spark to your core. “Inside.” This time John’s the one cursing, dropping his forehead to your collarbone as he watches himself come inside his wife. Finally, with his soft cock still inside you, John slows to a stuttering stop.

“Oh fuck.” John looks up at your panicked words with a matching expression. “Somethin’ hurt?” Your mouth opens, then closes. “What? No. I just remembered I stopped taking my birth control because of what happened. I haven’t been on it in over a month. And Plan-B’s really mess up my cycle.” John laughs. Your husband laughs, with his forehead on your collarbone and his cock inside you, pushing his cum in further. “This is not funny, John!” He shakes his head before meeting your eyes. “I got a vasectomy.” You blink. “What do you mean, you got a vasectomy?” He drags a hand down his face. Instead of answering, John eases out of the tight hold of your cunt. He fishes for a washcloth somewhere near, running warm water over it before swiping at your inner thighs. “When we had tha’ conversation about Gaz. Didn’t want it to happen after tha’ an’ not be prepared.” You squint in confusion. “I timed it with your period.” You bark out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He looks up at you with worry etched into his face, like he’s done something wrong. All you do is smile and pull him in, kissing his nose like he’s adorable. “I hate you.” You say, laughing. “You love me.” He murmurs against your skin. You don’t refute it, shutting him up with a kiss.

Phil watches and waits.

Her husband keeps leaving her alone. Phil’s camera screens flicker, shots of her through windows and from the park. The brother is closing in but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s so close to completing his mission. He must watch and wait.

one. chapter. left.

i barely edited this so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

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melloollem · 8 months ago

Text

Secrets in the family|| Bruce Wayne × Batmom reader × Batboys

Summary:Your children start an interrogation after noticing that you were hiding papers from them.

Warning: Comfort, silly story, Platonic relationship with the batboys.

(Dc masterlist)

"Aren't you old enough to leave home? What are you still doing here?" The shout from your youngest son caused your attention to wander for a moment from the papers in front of you, but not enough to stop you writing frantically.

"I lived here long before they knew you existed" Tim's reply was heard from an even closer distance, a sign that you would soon see them entering the kitchen, you began to collect the papers hoping that the heated discussion would be enough for them not to notice you.

"Yeah, you lived in my house as a favor, tell me something I don't know" Damian walked in front of Tim, being the first to enter the room. You tried to move slowly in retreat, deciding to head for the dining room, where you'd have a bit of silence.

"I didn't live on favor, I was adopted, they wanted me, you know what I mean?" Tim's cheeky reply came out quickly, taking Damian by surprise.

"Mom, did you hear that?" They both turned their heads in your direction, hindering your escape plan. Damian looked at you anxiously, waiting for you to scold his brother and Tim looked at you scared, like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Timothy, that's not something you say to your brother, say you're sorry" You said the sentence so quickly that it didn't even sound like a complaint, walking out of the room.

You heard a cynical laugh from Tim behind you followed by a "She doesn't care", drawing a tired sigh from you. "It's not that, I just don't have time for you acting like five-year-olds. Damian, my son, Tim doesn't live here as a favor, he's as much my son as you and Tim, darling, don't say those things to your brother, Damian was as wanted by me as you or any of your brothers. Boys, I'm busy" You made the whole speech without slowing down, heading towards the dining room. The sound of footsteps behind you made it certain that the boys were following you. You let out a tense sigh, anticipating the questioning session.

"What are you doing that's more important than us?" Damian asked in an authoritative tone unaccustomed to you involving yourself so little in their quarrel.

"What are those papers?" Tim asked from beside her, much quicker to catch up than Damian and his short frame. "Nothing important." "If it's nothing important, why did you say you were busy?" Timothy retorted quickly.

"Okay, go back to discussing it in another room and enough of this interrogation," you said at the end of your walk, ready to return to your previous activity, dropping the papers on the table. "Tell us what these papers are," Damian said, standing next to Tim in front of you.

"Are those the divorce papers?" Dick said with a humorous tone of voice, as he joined you in the room, leaving everyone confused by his sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here?" Damian was quick to ask. With all eyes glued to your eldest son, you saw the perfect opportunity to slip discreetly out of the dining room.

"I'm here to finalize some reports with - where are you going?" Dick said, drawing all attention back to you, a grunt of frustration escaping your lips, but you were determined to finish your notes, turning your back on your children, determined to find somewhere minimally quiet in the house.

"Are those Drake's and Todd's adoption papers? Are you going to burn them?" Damian asked, receiving a shove from Tim and a low laugh from Dick in response. The boys' pursuit hadn't stopped, only gained more momentum now that their eldest son was also part of it.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked, she was heading in the opposite direction to you, possibly to the training room, based on her clothes.

"We're chasing Mom to find out what she's hiding" replied Damian "Cool" said Cassandra, joining the group. "Mom?" "Yes, dear" Now you were climbing the stairs, heading towards the second floor of the house, you already knew where you could finish your notes in peace, away from the children's questions.

"Give me the papers, please" You let out a small laugh at the girl's request "No, but you were very polite to ask, congratulations" Even without success, Cassandra gave a small smile in response to the compliment.

"Bye, kids" You smiled as you found the door you were looking for. Before the door was completely closed, you could hear your children sigh in frustration that the chase was over, you thanked Bruce for making the office a forbidden place, now you understood the reason for this rule.

"What are you doing?" Bruce's sudden voice didn't scare you, you were used to your husband's sudden appearances. "Running away from the children," you said, sitting down in the chair opposite Bruce's desk.

You started distributing your papers on the table in an organized way so that they wouldn't get mixed up with your husband's documents and for the first time since you entered the room he looked up from the documents he was reviewing.

"What's this?" He asked, picking up one of the papers on the table. "They're really your children," Bruce ignored his comment. "Letters? For what reason?" "Yeah, I'm planning to run away and leave you with the kids" Your joke was met by a serious look from Bruce. "You're not as funny as you think" Bruce said. "Sorry, should I leave the jokes with-?" "Don't even finish that one".

"Why letters?" Bruce said, looking at you like he was being interrogated. "Why not? They're just letters, no big deal." You knew that your anxious rambling had given you away, this was not only one of the best detectives in the world, but also your husband.

"You don't want to tell me?" He was being understanding, but you knew he'd rather know. You took a deep breath before saying, "I'm just afraid of the future." "And does writing letters help?"

"I hope it helps them in the future" Bruce frowned at your answer. "Has something happened, dear?" He asked worriedly. Noticing your husband's fear, you grabbed his hand that was resting on the table "No, not at all" Your tone came out as sweet as possible "I just... I want them to have something to fall back on in the future, that's all, nothing bad has happened, it's just-" Your speech was cut off by a few knocks on the door, followed by the entrance of Alfred the butler.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, the children want to see you, Mrs. Wayne" you thanked the butler for the announcement and turned towards your husband again "I have to go, I'll need a good excuse for them to stop asking questions" You got up and left the room, mentally preparing yourself for the bombardment of questions.

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niwaart · 3 months ago

Text

Doctor! Male! Reader X Batfam ( part1, part2, part3, part4..)

----------------------------------------------------

Part 2

When Damian finds out he has a brother... a half-brother... and that his brother is older than him, he feels threatened. Why is he threatened? For two reasons. The first is that his position as Robin might be stolen, and the second is that his father will pay more attention to his older brother... and he's not proud to call him his brother. So the day after Bruce visits the hospital where Y/N works, Damian decides to observe and test his new brother. Is he strong? Is he smart? How many villains has he fought? Does he have a sad past? That's what Damian will discover.

In the evening before midnight, Y/N was roaming the hospital corridors, making sure the kids returned to his office where he was sleeping. Since Gotham never sleeps, that means a lot of emergencies, a lot of injured people, and a lot of busy doctors. So the best solution for Y/N is to sleep in his office instead of going to his apartment and returning to the hospital in case of an emergency. So when Y/N opened the door to his office, he let out a cry of fear when he saw little Robin searching through his things with papers scattered everywhere. Y/N looked at Robin who didn’t care about Y/N’s presence and continued searching. Y/N remained silent for a moment trying to understand what was going on. “You… Robin?”

"Yes... you are doctor Y/N Wayne?" Robin said when he sat on the Y/N seat after giving up from find anything except the lollipops.

Y/n looked at little Robin in confusion "How I can help you, little Robin?"

"Don't call me little! I'm not a little!" Y/N had a wry smile on his face After seeing little Robin's reaction.

"Oh?... then... tiny Robin?" Damian's face turned red with anger.

"I'm not a tiny!!" Y/N burst out laughing as he pointed his finger up and down at Damian.

Damian's dignity as Robin was at stake from Y/N's laughing so he jumped out of the chair trying to grab Y/N who ran away into the empty hallways with little Robin chasing after him.

"And I thought the Robins can fly!" Y/N said as he continued to run away from little Robin until he reached the back garden of the hospital.

Y/N is used to running away, after all he is a doctor who took care of Gotham's homeless children. But the person he's running from isn't just any ordinary kid in Gotham, it's Batman's son Robin. Damian jumps over Y/N and Y/N falls face down on the ground.

"I got you! You won't escape me! Now take back what you said!" Little Robin said as he put his weight on top of the helpless Y/N beneath him.

Y/N grabbed his poor nose and said in a written voice "I've said a lot in my life, so I don't know what I'm supposed to take back."

"You definitely know! Take back everything you said about me! Now!" Little Robin said impatiently. While Y/N smiled broadly.

"Okay, okay, I will take my words back.... Robin isn't strong... happy?" Y/N moved his head slightly to see Little Robin's expression and smiled in satisfaction when he saw Little Robin's teeth chattering in anger, but he was surprised when Robin got up from above him and walked away from him.

"You are not worth my precious time." Little Robin said surprisingly calmly.

Y/N laughed as he got up from the ground and cleaned his clothes from the fall in the garden. "aww, i pull my words back, Robins is so cute."

Robin turned to Y/N angrily but eventually sighed and walked back into the hospital to Y/N's office. Y/N happily followed him, "So, little Robin, tell me why you were in my office earlier? Am I a criminal? Could it be that I'm a sleepwalker? Oh my god that's creepy."

Damian mumbled incomprehensible words in Arabic in annoyance as Y/N chattered over his head. When they arrived at Y/N's office, Y/N sat in his chair tiredly, the chase between him and Damian was fun but tiring.

" I came here because I want to know about you, how strong you are and what your weakness is..." Y/N looked at little Robin in surprise. About him? His strength? His weakness? What?

"Ahh... I don't understand what do you mean, little Robin, but here all I can give is that." Y/N handed little Robin a strawberry lollipop. Damian looked at the lollipop in disbelief, Really? Is he a child to Y/N?

"I don't want it.." Damian looked at Y/N angrily. “I want you to tell me about yourself! What is your use in life! Prove yourself!”

"huh?... well, I'm a doctor?.. is that satisfying you?" Damian almost screamed in frustration as he felt his mind tear apart with anger and resignation. As he tried to calm himself down, Y/N unwrapped the lollipop and placed it in Robin's little mouth who was surprised by the gesture. But he gave in and kept it in his mouth. "you are annoying."

"I know that" Y/N winked at Damian In enjoyment. "I like your company, little Robin, but you have to go home now. It's the middle of the night and I want to sleep."

Little Robin looked at Y/N for a few moments before turning and walking to the window to leave. "I will back. And I will find about you.." With these words, little Robin disappeared as Y/N laid his head on his desk to sleep with a smile on his face.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"So, Robin? What did you find?" Bruce said in a hoarse voice from exhaustion as he searched the bat's computer for a new case.

"Nothing interesting, he is boring, just a doctor... annoying doctor.." Damian groaned as he remembered the nickname Y/N had given him... Little Robin.

Bruce looked at his son with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know you liked lollipops.." before Bruce could continue Damian ran inside the manor. Bruce sighed and then turned his focus back to the computer in front of him. "Kids are weird... but do I look old?"

----------------------------------------------------

That was funny 🤣🤣 we are at the beginning of making Damian a real yandere!

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madschiavelique · 3 months ago

Note

Could I request smut headcanons for astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, and wyll being teased by his female s/o that he came in his pants/underwear please?

omg im so sorry this took so long but arcane has a grip on me that is just SO tight. also, i'm sorry but i couldn't think of a way to make this prompt work for kar'niss, thus he won't be present in this sorryyy

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : astarion, gale, halsin, raphael, haarlep, rolan, wyll

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : smut, reader being a dom if you squint for some of the men in this, teasing, reader being a teasing shit, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2,2k (~ 300 words per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ astarion :

After a long day in camp, Astarion was on duty sewing up the few clothes that had been torn during the day. It was a relaxing activity that he didn't see as an inconvenience when it came to the tasks everyone had in the camp.

It was his turn on guard duty, his elven assets obviously allowing him to be awake for longer. And, as luck would have it, you were sharing this shift.

Sitting by the campfire for better light, he was concentrating on drawing and sticking his needle continuously.

"What a tear it was," you confirmed, coming to sit just behind him and lacing your hands around his waist.

He chuckled softly, the sensation of your warmth against him quite different from that of the flames facing him. "Should my mind wonder, I think you get your clothes torn on purpose." He said, his face turning away from his task to meet your eyes, a flash of mischief crossing them.

"Really?" You smiled, your eyes lowering gradually to his lips as one of your hands moved slowly down his stomach to brush against his crotch. "I think you'd prefer me with no clothes at all."

His eyes were half-closed, a sigh of relief expelled from his lungs as your fingers slipped past the thickness of his trousers to press against him.

"Do you like it when you see my clothes torn apart?" you whispered against the back of his neck as you placed a kiss on it, your hot breath sending shivers down the vampire's spine.

His head fell back against your shoulder, moans rising from his throat as the feel of your breasts, barely covered by your shirt, pressed against his back. The pleasure was building fast, the feel of your lips against his skin, your divine fingers pumping his length to perfection, and your words pushing him towards ecstasy.

"Would you want to tear them yourself?" you questioned as your wrist increased the pace, your teeth grazing his skin for a moment before you bit down gently.

It almost took his breath away, the knot of pleasure bursting as you gently kissed his skin in encouragement.

You pulled your hand out of his trousers, watching the spectacle in the firelight with a satisfied smile. His eyes returned to yours, and you could be sure that your shirt was going to be ripped to shreds in the next few seconds.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gale :

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose, trying as best he could to integrate the complex workings of a new spell he wanted to learn.

"You look tense," you remarked as you sat down beside him, placing your hand on his thigh in an attempt of reassuring him.

"Somehow these engravings are giving me quite a hard time," he replied, giving you a frustrated little smile as his eyes returned to the paper.

"Maybe..." Your hand slid to his crotch, his eyes drifting slowly from the parchment to yours. "You need to relax a bit to learn it better?"

His nose brushed yours gently, his lips grazing yours and inhaling heavily as your hands moved past the waistband of his trousers and onto his warm skin.

His lips sought yours relentlessly, but you always found a way to turn away and smile against his cheek when he twitched at your meticulous and delicious movements.

"Why don't you try and read it for me?" you purred.

He tried to return to his parchment, but your hand against him simply made him press his forehead against the spell lines as you brought him to climax.

With a gasp, he regained his composure and you kissed his jaw.

"Can you focus better on it now?" you suggested slyly.

How could he concentrate on anything after what you'd just put him through? He chuckled, almost throwing his parchment away as he grabbed your chin.

"My dear, I think it's time for me to practice some different spells on you."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ halsin :

halsin was, as usual when he was staying at camp and the others had gone elsewhere for one reason or another, sitting by his tent carving a new wooden duck that he couldn't wait to add to his collection

You rested your head on his thigh, watching him as he gave you a gentle look, refocusing on his task.

What could be disturbing his serenity, his concentration and his control? When even was the last time you'd seen halsin flustered?

You placed your hand tentatively on his second thigh, letting your thumb caress his bulging muscle beneath the fabric of his trousers. He glanced at you for a moment, continuing his task more gently already, his attention gradually drifting to you as your finger ventured to his crotch, caressing it.

He inhaled harshly, his hands tightening on the knife and the piece of wood as his breath caught, his eyes now completely on you.

"My heart?" he asked, his breath catching as your hand cupped his cock.

"Just keep going," you said simply, not taking your eyes off him as your hand continued its little game.

You felt him harden under the caress of your fingers as, in your semi-innocence, he continued his task with some difficulty.

On several occasions, he smiled, a low laugh of air rising from his chest as your fingers touched a particularly sensitive spot or you stopped your movements to his surprise, saying, "If you don't continue carving, I will stop."

However, as time progressed, he forgot all about his sculpture, your fingers a delight on him as you picked up the pace until he relaxed completely with a few spasms under your hands, ruining his trousers.

Breathing hard, he watched you, cheek still resting on his thigh as you indicated as if nothing had happened "the next sculpture you make should be of me."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael :

It had been hours already since Raphael had been sitting at his desk, and boredom mixed with envy had led you to him.

It didn't take you long to settle into his lap, embracing him and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Do you miss me that much, my pearl?" he asked, a dark chuckle echoing in his chest.

"You've been doing this paperwork for hours already," you mumbled, your eyes facing the corner of his jaw.

"Be a bit more patient," he assured you as he continued reading yet another sheet. "It won't take me long."

But you had been patient enough already. Still, you sighed, simply resting your cheek on his shoulder.

Maybe there was a way for you to get him out of this boring situation with something more enticing.

You rolled your hips, a low hum coming from his throat. You repeated the movement, feeling his breath heavier already.

"You're up to something," he murmured, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips brushed your ear.

"Am I?" you questioned without waiting for an answer, your hips rolling against his as you felt him harden beneath you.

"You're being a distraction." His breath became heavier as his hands left the papers to rest on your hips.

"I'm your favourite distraction." you whispered in his ear, smiling playfully as you nibbled his lobe.

His hips reacted of their own accord, grinding against you as you kept up an ever-accelerating rhythm. His breath quickened as he whispered your name, your lips kissing and biting his neck until, with a groan, he came.

He rested his forehead on your shoulder, smiling against your skin as you straightened, leaving him with a stain in his trousers and looking surprised.

"Now you know the fun that you're missing." you say, moving away from the desk before he catches up with you, placing you on your shoulder and carrying you to the nearest bed.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep :

catching haarlep off guard in terms of teasing is no easy feat, so you'd offered him a challenge.

"you want to make me cum without touching me, little dove?" he sneered, the idea probably seeming ridiculous and insane to him, but above all: impossible.

But you weren't going to be deterred, advancing towards him in the most beautiful lingerie you owned - his favourite. his eyes, burning with desire, roamed over your body as though they were starving.

"you truly think this is impossible for me to achieve this?" you asked, coming to sit right on top of him without your thighs touching his hips or any part of your skin coming into contact with him.

"you're making me reconsider my own words," Haarlep remarked, his eyes at the same level as your breasts.

you lowered yourself towards him, your hand barely brushing his already hard length as your lips parted near his ears, whispering words that would shock any paladin.

of their own accord, his hips began to move, finding friction against the fabric of his black underwear as your hand continued to move just above him, the distance driving him mad.

The friction intensified, his movements becoming more erratic and repetitive as your words lifted him beyond the clouds of hell.

"Come for me, Haarlep," you whispered as his breath hitched. "Come for me."

He came as if on command, his hips jerking against nothing as you laughed close to his ear before kissing him, pulling back to admire the sight of his half-closed eyelids.

He smiled, his canine teeth glistening in the light as he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you under him onto the bed, "I think it's my turn to achieve the impossible."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan :

Rolan, eternally busy in the library, was sincerely starting to make you wait.

You sat next to him, waiting tirelessly as he turned another page. There was no fun in sight for any of you if he continued like that for long.

You rested your head on your hand, watching him for a moment as an idea popped into your head.

"Read for me," you said, as he turned to you in surprise.

"You want me to read this to you?" he repeated, pointing to a book that seemed immeasurably boring.

"Mhm," you simply hummed, shrugging your shoulders as your hand came to rest on his thigh and you moved closer to him, pretending to be interested.

He cleared his throat, the simple sensation of your hand on his thigh making him all a-twit as he began his technical reading.

Gradually, though, your hand moved closer to his crotch, caressing his thigh with your thumb as you felt his voice tremble at times and his jaw tense.

When you placed your hand down on him, however, he couldn't help but let out a moan, turning to you.

"What are you-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Just keep reading," you said simply, a flash of slyness still in your eyes.

He breathed in, understanding your little game as he returned to his reading with some difficulty and you resumed your slow, precise movements.

Sometimes you felt his hips twitch, or enjoyed his sentences punctuated by sighs and moans as he stopped reading, unable to concentrate as you urged him to continue unless you'd stop.

"I'm..." his breath quickened, your hands doing the same as he couldn't even put two coherent words together under your touch.

"Mhm?" you hummed, your movements as precise and fast as ever.

"Fuck," he swore as he clamped his hand over his mouth and his hips bucked against your hand, the warm sensation of his release pressing against your palm.

You watched the result of your work, Rolan huffing and puffing and his head thrown back, covering the blush darkening his cheeks.

"You're never going to get me out of this library alive," he sighed, hiding his eyes as you laughed softly.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ wyll :

He was spending such a tremendous time making sure his sword was clean and efficient that you wondered if you'd end up envying rapiers and other sabres.

You came up behind him and wrapped your hands around his waist.

"You've sharpened it enough," you breathed, resting your chin on his shoulder as your own reflection watched you in his blade.

He raised it in front of him, straight into the sunlight. "What's a blade of frontier without a proper sword?"

He laid the blade on his knee again, running his file over the metal with precision, much to your frustration. He could have put that determination into something else, like you for example.

You sighed, your hands wandering mischievously to his groin. "Maybe the blade himself needs to loosen up a bit..."

A dull moan spread through his chest, vibrating against your own as you cupped him through his pants.

You massaged him gently, caressing him as his concentration on his sword weakened and he hardened.

"Do you prefer your sword to me?" you asked as you reached past the edge of his trousers and ran your hand down his shorts, a hiss escaping his lips as your hand came in contact with his skin.

His hips bucked messily against your palm, his breath getting heavier and heavier.

You pressed your mouth to his ear, whispering "Can your sword make you come like I do?"

Without further ado, he came against your hand with a long moan of pleasure, his head falling on your shoulder as he breathed softly, turning his head to look at you.

But you stood up, leaving him like that.

"Who will you choose tonight?" you said playfully, "your sword, or me?"

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 gale #gale x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #bg3 raphael #raphael x reader #bg3 haarlep #haarlep x reader #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #bg3 wyll #wyll x reader #bg3 smut

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moonyspupp · 7 months ago

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You just don’t listen do you?

Severus snape X f!Reader smut

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My first fanfic on here!

CW: teacher student relationship (reader is of age!) breeding, minor name calling, SMUT

⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ . ┊✩ ⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ . ┊✩ ⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ .

While your many years at hogwarts went by very quickly, it feels like only yesterday you first stepped foot onto the grounds. Even though you had to stay an extra year due to poor marks, you loved hogwarts the same nevertheless. With all the laughter and excitement you shared with your classmates and friends these years, your mind was always occupied with the thoughts of your potions teacher;

Severus Snape

You weren’t sure what about him caught your eye, all you knew was that you wanted him, badly. None of your friends knew about your secret desire or you could even say , the hots for your teacher, how could you ever confess to that? But as your final year at the school comes near, there’s a dreadful realization that once you’re graduate, that’s it for your little dream when it came to him. As you daydream about graduation day and the fact you’ll leave everything in this school behind very soon, sooner than you realize. You’re suddenly brought out of your trance as Professor Snape smacks the back of your chair with his book.

⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ . ┊✩ ⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ . ┊✩ ⋆┊ ┊ . ┊ .

"Daydreaming again, Miss (L/N)?" he asks, his voice heavy with irritation.

My eyes snap open, the force of the smack bringing me back to reality. I look up to see Professor Snape looming over my desk, his lips curled into a sneer. I shake awake at his words; now fully processing it. “Oh shit..” I mutter . The class now quiet now as no one dared to say a word; the only sounds that could be heard were the bubbling cauldrons

“I-im sorry sir, im just a bit tired today” I say stuttering from embarrassment

“Well obviously you’ve been tired for the past three weeks , obvious by looking at your marks” Snape says harshly giving my seat another quick smack. I nearly jump in my seat , not daring to meet his gaze, I slightly tremble not knowing what to say next; what he would say next . “See me after class miss (L/N), at this rate I’ll be surprised to see you graduate this school” he says nearly snarling “I would hate to have you again as a student.” The class is still dead silent, as if everyone’s waiting for something to happen. “Yes sir” I say muttering trying my best not to make it so obvious I was beyond embarrassed at the confrontation about my marks. Snape eyes me up and down before returning back to the front of the class, his dark robes trailing near his feet as he walked briskly. For the rest of the class period, i try my best to focus on the lecture, but i can't shake the feeling of the embarrassment I faced earlier. Every time you glance at Snape, i can feel his gaze on me, like a hawk watching its prey. I thought to myself, “I knew I wanted his attention but this is NOT what I meant..” I tap my foot against the cobblestone floor nervously, keeping my eyes down either at my shoes or my empty notes.

As the class comes to an end, the students pack up their things and start to leave. My friends give me a look of nervousness, I knew I had to stay back but the fact it was going to be just me and him alone in the classroom was so terrifying but somehow it wasn’t in a scary way. Snape's voice rings out, stopping me in your tracks as i attempted to leave the classroom before he could see.

"Not you, Miss (L/N). Don’t forget you’ll be staying behind today."

I let out an annoyed groan before I turn around and face him, the realization that the only two people in this now empty classroom were you and him.

Your potion teacher, the one teacher you had the hots for

I feel my face slightly flush at the thought. The room was quietly; the only sound my nervous breaths in the still air. Snape stands at his desk, idly straightening some papers, his dark eyes never leaving you. I feel his eyes almost burning into me, even though i didn’t look up once after we were alone, i could just feel it. I take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row.

"You've been struggling in my class for quite some time," he says, his voice low and stern. "Why do you think that is?"

“I’m just a bit scared that I’ll graduate soon sir.” I let out a nervous laugh, I tap my foot on the floor once again but this time even faster. Snape's eyes narrow slightly and he stops straightening the papers, his full attention now on me.

"Is that so?" he says, his voice neutral. "You think that's a valid excuse for your poor performance in my class?" Snape stands up and walks around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent classroom. He stands directly over me, his body just a few inches away from mine. I'm not one to tolerate excuses, Miss (L/N). I expect excellence from all my students, and you haven't been living up to those expectations.” He snarls

I shake at his words, he’s never scolded me in such a way like this other than today, sure he’s called me out in class for sleeping or missing notes, but never this way, never this close. I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear and somehow, desire as well. For a few seconds longer I let my thoughts dwell until I bring myself to answer, “I apologize sir it’s just-“

He cuts me off slamming both his hands on the desk, the sound nearly echoing in the room. “I don’t want to hear any of your excuses” he groans, his facial expression changing to one that’s obviously more irritated. “I’ve heard it all before, you think I’ve never had a student who couldn’t care less about my class Miss (L/N)? You wouldn’t be the first he hisses” He says his eyes fixing on me.

“But sir that’s not it I swear to Merlin, I’ve just been distrac-“ I say frantically trying to prove to Snape wrong. Snape's hand reaches out quick and grips my chin, gripping it tightly and forcing me to look into his eyes. His eyes burn into mine as his face was mere inches away.

"You've been distracted?” he asks sarcastically , his voice a low growl. "It's a wonder how you manage to pass your other classes;if you even are at this point, with so much going on in that pretty little head of yours. Tell me, exactly what is causing this... distraction?” I tremble at let out a whimper as I feel his grip tightening on his face, He forces my chin up even higher to try to get an answer out of me. I see Snape’s lips curl into a slight smirk, my breathing became more unsteady by the second , as I feel my desire and arousal growing.

“Nothing sir” I say looking scared

Snape backs me up to his desk. “You must think I’m stupid little girl, do you really think I was born yesterday?

I see the way you look at me in class, this entire year, don’t try to deny it now miss (L/N), look at the way you’re quivering under my touch.” He says his voice trailing off and grip still steady on my neck. My breathing hitches at his words “fuck he’s right” I thought to myself. I feel my brows furrowing and my face becoming hotter by the second. I stir slightly at his grip needing more, more of his touch, I accidentally let out a soft moan. Snape nearly flinches at the sudden sound.

Your moan sent a shiver down Snape’s spine. He can feel your body responding to his presence, the combination of fear and desire making both of your heads spin. He eventually releases my chin and moves even closer to me, his body now pressed against mine. His hand shaking around my waist with a grip that was almost painful and apparent with desire.

"I know what you want little girl," he whispers in my ear, his voice low and seductive. "And I have just the way to get you to admit it." My arms wrap around his neck to bring him closer. Merlin you just had to feel more of him..

He nips at my earlobe, his teeth biting at my skin. The feeling goes straight to your core, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes my lips. I feel my legs shaking around his waist. I breathe heavy in his ear, my face turning even more red at the realization that he hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m acting this way.

Snape lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Hush" he says, his hand moving to grip your hip. "No sounds until I tell you, if you want to misbehave in my class then you’ll have to work for your pleasure. Bad girls don’t get rewarded."

“Yes sir” I say shaking

He shifts himself so I can wrap around him better, I can feel his hard length lining up with my core. I grip his robes tightly as I feel it throb under his pants, the desires I’ve had are slowly becoming a reality, I have a hard time accepting that and my brain feels as it’s nearly melting at this point. I hear him groan as the readjusted position seems to have an effect on him too. I lightly squeeze my legs together and push myself further down onto his hardness just to be a bit of a tease to him.

I feel his grip on my hips tighten , his nails digging into the flesh of my thigh. His hand comes back up to grip my chin once more, “you minx” he hisses before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was possessive and rough, I moan as I feel him hold me tighter against him. His tongue slips into my mouth, it feels demanding, dominating even, I give into the feeling and let myself be devoured in that moment. It nearly feels like forever until I pull away from the kiss slightly to meet his gaze, breathing heavily with a moan in between each breath.

With my swollen parted lips and my eyes slightly heavy with lust “Professor” I say huffing with desire “Ravage me.” His eyes widen at your words, a hungry grin spreading across his face. "You don't know what you're asking for, Miss (L/N). Are you sure you can handle it?"

“Please!” I say nearly whining, my heads thrown back and my legs are shaking now more than ever. I feel the desire pooling in my core making it impossible to speak properly, all my words come out in almost a babble, but deep in my head I know I’ve entered dangerous territory, but you can't help yourself. You want this, you want him.

Snape smirks, his grip on you tightening. "Very well," he says, his voice a dangerous growl. "I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."

I can barely prepared what happens next until I feel him spin me around and pins me against his desk. His body pressed against mine even harder than before, his hands roaming over my body, his lips finding my neck once again.

"You asked for this," his voice a low growl. "And I'll give it to you, all of it.”

I moan loudly at the sudden feeling , my backside now exposed to him, I feel my legs slightly kick and twitch in anticipation.

Snape runs two fingers up and down my soaked panties then pulls them to the side, my body shakes slightly at the pleasure, I subconsciously let my moans out. I feel a tight grip on my hair then my head being pulled back, I hear him whisper; voice dripping like sweet dark desire. “I thought I made myself clear when I said to hush?”

“m so sorry sir! ” I say with slight tears welling up in my eyes. He brings his face closer to my bare neck and I feel his lips biting on my exposed skin. I cover my mouth with one of my hands to muffle any potential moans that could come next. I shut my eyes and let my body accept the feeling.

“Such a greedy thing” he whispers in my ear as his grip on me tightens. I can only whimper in response“So bold of you to tell me to ravage you. You don't even know what you're asking for." His whisper turning a primal growl. I moan into my hand once more nodding feverishly, my body responding to his every touch and every word. His hand moves back down to my ruined panties, his grip tight and possessive on me. "But I'm going to give it to you, darling," he hisses. "And you're going to take whatever I give you, aren't you?"

“Yes professor!” I cry out, my hips moving against his hands greedily. I feel my heart racing, my head is spinning, and I can barely think straight. I hear him laugh, his hand continue down its path down your body. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, his breath hot on your ear.

"I thought so,” he whispers. “You’re trembling so much dear, you want this more than you'd like to admit, don't you?"

“Yes sir” I say burying my face into my arms shyly. My body still violently shaking with pleasure and embarrassment. I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling followed by the sound of fabric hitting the floor, he slips off my ruined panties as well. I nearly wince at the feeling of Snape rubbing the swollen head of his cock up and down my leaking slit. I moan loudly at the feeling and feel a sharp slap come down onto my behind. I arch my back at the sudden pain and shriek.

“You just never listen do you Miss(L/N)?”

“Please professor I can’t take it anymore” I say tears running down my face now. “Im begging you please” I could no longer create coherent thoughts and all the words that came out of my mouth became nothing but babbling.

Snape chuckles “Then let it all out then dear.”

I feel him push past my fold, sheathing his entire length into my tight insides. I let out almost a scream at the feeling of pleasure. “Professor!” I say crying out , I throw my head down even lower, not being able to keep it up any longer. He leans over my back and moans, “fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like your body was made for me to claim” He groans. He was now balls deep in me, I shake at the feeling of being stretched out so much and by the man I wanted so badly. He kissed and bites my shoulders and back wildly as he pounded me hard and primal into his desk. I felt my back arch as he gripped my hips tight and thrusted even harder. “You’re so perfect..” I heard him mutter under his breath as he moaned. “more please sir I can take it” I say babbling , gripping onto the edge of the desk for dear life. Snape happily obliges, I feel my insides nearly split open as he continues his rough pounding. Hearing his guttural moans sends me over the edge.

His grip comes up to my throat , the gasp that came out my mouth sounded strangled yet full of pleasure. I feel another sharp slap come down my ass. “Fuck!” I scream out

My potions teacher was ravaging my pussy, using my body.

My eyes begin to roll back into my skull as I let him do as he pleased with my body. I felt my desires begging to turn primal, “Professor breed m’ please” I said barely holding onto my composure. A dribble of drool began to seep its way out of the corner of my mouth as I huffed. Snape come undone by my pleas and need to be bred.

I hear his breathing hitch into gasps, I feel him trembling as he continued to pound behind me as I heard him speak “ you’re sure love? You want to take that chance? You’re willing to let me breed you? Without any protection?”

Though I couldn’t see behind me I still felt a smile creep onto Snapes face. “Yes please breed me professor let m’ have your children! I cried out” , whining at the need to be filled to the brim with his cum, to carry and become round with his children. All the thoughts and pleasure overstimulated me to the point where the only thing I could do was moan,whimper, and drool.

Snape fucks me even harder , the desk below me starts to creak and thump against the floor. I moan loudly at his brutal rough thrusts. “Gonna fill you up so full with my cum darling” “gonna be so fucking pretty with your belly full with my children, you’d want that wouldn’t you slut?” He asks , “yes please don’t stop” I babble not being able to lift my head up to speak properly. “

he groans at my fucked state, “gonna cum “ he mutters. I feel his grip on my hips becoming tighter, his nails digging into my behind, his thrusts became more and more sloppy by the second, “m’ too sir “ I say muttering; my brain nearly fried at that point. The volume of our moans combined eventually spilt us both over the edge. I feel Snape feel my warm cunt up full with his hot potent seed. Afterwards I felt him lean over my back for quite a while , obviously tired from that entire ordeal, maybe even a hint of hesitation when it came to pulling out played a part in that.

Eventually he did, drops of his seed dripped onto the floor under us, the withdrawal made me whimper at the loss of what made me feel full. Snape and I take another moment to collect our composure. He sets me upright on his desk and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

“Gorgeous girl..” he mutters , I smile at his words , “I’ve always wanted to do that” I say shyly

“I know” Snape says buckling his pants again.

I give him a pout at the fact he didn’t play along, “can I stay with you for tonight sir?” He rolled his eyes and nodded. I slip my underwear back on and readjust my skirt and top, I grab onto his arm, “don’t pretend like you don’t like me sir, I know you’ll miss me once I graduate” I say still giving him a pout.

He gives me an irritated look but I could sense a slight bit of affection through it

“I’ll still be seeing you after you’re graduated.”

I give him a sweet smile now holding onto his hand as he led me through the corridors to his quarters..

#severus snape x reader #severus snape #severus snape smut #harry potter #severus x reader #severus x y/n #severus x you #severus snape x y/n #severus smut #snape smut #harry potter smut

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barefoot-joker · 1 year ago

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Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2105

Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside.

Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”

“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”

“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”

“Perfectly.”

“Well have fun, little lady!”

“Will do, thank you!”

I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”

As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”

I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”

Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”

The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.

After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”

He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”

I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”

I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”

I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”

We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”

“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”

“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”

“Hold on one second.”

I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”

“Me neither. Can I see him?”

“Of course!”

I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”

“Red!”

I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“No, your fucking snake bit me!”

I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”

We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.

Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”

“W-who are you?”

A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”

“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”

I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”

His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”

His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”

My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”

A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”

“Going?”

“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”

My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”

“No please-”

“In we go!”

He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”

He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”

The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”

“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”

His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”

He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”

He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”

My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”

“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”

“What do you mean rulers?”

“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!”

He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”

He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.

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troublesh00terfaery · 4 months ago

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BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT! [THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION] | Pinned Navigation | Chapter one of CREDENCE | [Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader] Synopsis: In the heart of Sumeru, thrives the peaceful and unique kingdom to which governed by the monarchy. A young prince experiences a strange succession of dreams to which a mysterious woman comforts him. Wouldn't it be delightful to make this dreams into a reality? Words: 5.4k (NOT BETA READ)

Tags: AFAB! Reader, slight teasing, Prince! Alhaitham x Goddess Reader. Pronouns for AFAB reader are she/her. Alhaitham slightly obsessed with you. Alhaitham raging thoughts about you (look at what you did to this poor man!) So far, this will be main tags, more will be added on the following chapters. A/N: OKAY, I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO UPDATE FOR MONTHS. I know I should've posted this around August but I was so busy and experienced writers block so I went to travel and did girly stuff just to get back on track so I sincerely apologize for the very late upload. I'm currently working on the third part since I planned on making this having four chapters. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this and upcoming chapters! - xoxo Circe𝜗𝜚 [Credits to this beautiful artist for the Alhaitham fanart, this was one of my inspos for this work!]

TAGLIST: @ayumneedsleep @zetianzz @surfacecigarettes @flwerie @yxnnu (If you want to be tagged for the upcoming chapters, comment to do so!)

This was rather unexpected, you thought to yourself. He was different and that bothered you. Was he not satisfied to see the literal woman of his dreams come to life? The thought itself made you furrow your brows as you tagged along him and his pet.

Upon reaching his study, the motif itself was very much like the monarchy and himself. Cabinets filled with scrolls and another separate cabinet that are yet to be filled with scrolls of whatever he is working on. His study was open and wide, the heart of his study was his huge table decorated with weighing scales and papers piled up and two papyrus papers were scattered open in the middle that somehow looked like a map that is yet to be filled up.

"Have a seat," Alhaitham spoke, instructing Jihad to sit down to which the feline responded with a chuff before settling himself down and yawning.

You stood there by the door that was just closed and watched him unfold in his usual setting. I guess Alhaitham would call this his own man cave. He gazed at you and heaved a sigh. "I meant you, of course. Have a seat, don't mind Jihad."

In return, you only replied with a small nod and found a seat just beside the cabinets. You decided not to sit and to stand and observe the scrolls piled up. Your eyes are busy with the tags and labels of each scroll. Alhaitham on the other hand kept sitting by his table and crossed his arms.

The probing has begun, he asked numerous questions to which you replied. He didn't ask where you came from, he was objective, thus only questioning matters regarding the further regions of the sands. From hidden mausoleums to locations to mark, he continued to seek the pursuit of knowledge for the expansion project. It was quite strange, here you thought that he would be asking you rather personal questions. It did bother you but of course, it would not let you falter.

"Your highness..." one of his servants came inside after knocking. "...it is dinner. The young lady is invited to eat as well, said your father."

Alhaitham replied with a nod before the servant left. He then gazed back at you before he stood up and spoke.

"You heard him."

Oh the knock of this guy. You thought.

Dinner was quite fine, the sorts of foods that would satisfy one's appetite. Alhaitham exchanged a few words with his father and his father to you. At some point, the question directed towards you was answered by Alhaitham.

"Please eat, I will answer my father's questions." He whispered to which you only replied with a slow nod as you took a spoonful of the desert.

The following days were the same, this time it was different. You were actually helping him out with the mapping. You could see how delicate and neat he works with the maps. Not only that, he was detail oriented as well. Asking you questions about what was within that small area or what notable features did it possess. He was indeed more than just a prince with a face, he possessed an aristocratic and wise quality.

It was because during mapping sessions, guards and scribes would randomly enter his study chambers and update him with the ongoing plans and treaties that he, of course, would indulge himself and the queries.

"If you'll excuse me, I will return in a short while." He left his markers and tools used for outlining the maps scattered at the table. You replied with a small nod and watched him leave the chambers whilst talking to one of the scribes.

This day, the mapping was almost finished but he was summoned by his father. Leaving you alone in his chamber. It was afternoon and the chamber was filled with rays of the sun that beamed, highlighting small spaces within his study. Come to think of it, no matter how busy this man is, his study was undeniably neat. Not a single scroll was misplaced nor scattered around the floor. You would expect that this man had no time to organize yet his room differs from your expectations.

His study was a wide room with an open space in the middle with a long and rectangle shaped table. Beside it was a red sofa filled with plush pillows on each end. You took the liking of comfortably sitting and observing the space he usually works on a daily basis. A whiff of the incense laced your nose, inhaling the comforting scent. A little while later, Jihad entered the study with a big yawn as he slowly walked towards the sofa.

He was a big feline but such a baby when his prince was near him, demanding for rubs. As you stayed in the palace for quite some time, Jihad has grown fond of you. He would greet you with his successions of chuff or nudge his head against your knees, a cue to pet him to which you spoil him. Surprisingly, Jihad took the big pillow he usually sleeps in by dragging it with his teeth and placing it near your feet and comfortably laying himself for a short nap.

"You know what, Jihad..." you spoke, stretching your arms and back before you took one of the pillows and patted each side. "...a nap doesn't sound bad after all."

And just like that, you lie down and slumber visits you. On the other hand, Alhaitham was discussing with his father. The usual one, expedition and mapping. Not until his father mentioned how you were.

"What do you mean?" Alhaitham asked, not looking at his father as his eyes were too fixated from the pieces of figures in his father's embossed maps.

"Do you even know her name?" The king paused from placing a few more pieces.

"That's rather a strange query, your grace." He took one of the pieces, a triangular shaped piece, and placed it near two smaller pieces with the identical shape.

Of course, he didn't know your name. It didn't cross his mind to know or ask what was your name. Not that it didn't curious him, he simply just didn't feel it. Now the thought of what your name was, he recalled addressing you as 'hey' or 'woman' a couple of days ago. Strange and certainly infuriating.

"Do you know her name then, father?"

"My, of course, son."

"Good for you."

The king only sighed at his rather indifferent attitude. Truth be told, he was genuinely curious about you. Everything about you was a mystery that is yet to be revealed. In an outward perspective, he did not care. To which you and probably the king, finds strange.

He was quite aware of how you and his woman of dreams looked alike and how similar your voices were. On top of that, the little fluid and elegant manners you had as you carried yourself in helping the young prince further expanded his curiosity. He found you rather strange but in his mind, you and that woman of dreams of his were different and he rejected the idea that it was you personified.

"She's quite a pretty woman herself, don't you think?"

"Hm, she is, I suppose?"

The talk about you went on for hours, only for Alhaitham to reply in such a stingy way. After a few more talks, the prince decided to go back to his study to check the scrolls.

It was the same routine everyday, to the point that it seemed like a loop that never ended. At this point, your plan seemed like a written reminder that you somehow never did.

"The expedition begins in two days, I suggest you get your best sleep since we're heading to the sands." Alhaitham spoke, without looking at you, afterall, he was a busy man with a scroll on his right hand and a pen on his other hand.

"I'm coming?" You stopped petting the feline.

"I will accompany you with a few of my chosen travelers and men."

"Oh..."

"Your ladies have also prepared your tent and things, do you wish to bring anything else?"

"Uh...I-I suppose I'll be thinking about it."

"Hm, tell me what you'll be bringing so I will get them to prepare it. Understood?"

"Yes," you replied, looking at him as Jihad nudged his head gently against your cheeks and chuffled. "Thank you."

Come to think of it, your world revolved a bit of eating savory meals, having to experience luxurious baths almost everyday, a free stroll around the extravagant palace, watch people do stuff for you, dressed up with the finest silk offered by the palace, and of course, having a premium closeness to the prince by being his aid. Suitable just for a goddess like you. But alas, do they even try to know what you truly are? Does HE know or even try to know you? Shame that you will never know.

It was no doubt that the prince had a charming face and a mysterious personality that entices a few faces from different kingdoms. Princesses and high ranking courtesans seemingly throwing themselves to the young prince's feet, offering themselves to him as an act.of devotion. To which of course, he politely declines. These ministrations and how he reacts to it somehow made you curious over the past few days that you couldn't help but want to ask. However, you decided to ask a different and a more serious query.

"Alhai- I mean, your highness, is it okay if I ask something?"

The young prince stopped what he was doing and slowly turned and tilted his head, enough for you to see the side of his face.

"Call me 'Alhaitham', we're in my chambers." He spoke. "I'd like you to call me by my name, so refrain from addressing me formally."

"Why so?"

"Is that what you're initially asking then?"

"No."

"Hm, then I'll only answer you if you do as I say." A small smile formed on his lips.

Truth be told, Alhaitham wasn't fond of questions. It was like a meticulous task for him and it tired him out. However, there are such exemptions to these matters especially when it comes to you. Of course, he could only think of it as a way to return his favour because you had assisted him for almost a month on his ongoing expedition. Think of it as him being a gentleman.

You slowly nodded with his instructions and slowly said his name. It was new, you were so used to calling him with his honorary titles, but the prince himself granted you permissions to casually call him his name. Oh, what a beautiful name, you thought to yourself.

"Alhaitham."

"Hm? What is it?" He slowly shifted his body, dropped his pen and scroll to his table, and faced his body to you. Now he was welcomed with this... rather innocent view of yours. You were sitting by his carpet while his dear feline rested its big head on your lap. Your sincere eyes meeting his hawk-like gaze, plump lips, and such beauty.

Alhaitham wouldn't deny it but your beauty would be considered as the realm's delight. Such beauty you behold, he wonders what kind of alchemy create such ethereal beauty like you. And then he realized something, your beauty alone had a choke hold on him and he realized it late.

"I have come to notice that you have suitors, women coming from different regions." You started slow but with an obvious topic to which you already prepared the rejection of answering your curious query. "Why do you not entertain them?"

You asked, seemingly patting the head of Jihad yet you never really looked at him.

Alhaitham paused for a moment, and pondered, what the real answer is to that question. Was it an academic curiosity that urged him to convince his father to explore the desert that genuinely kept the young prince in a hectic place? Perhaps the idea that marriage was far from his perspective as of the moment, considering he never was in a position to rush matters that revolved around tying bonds with anyone? Does he even see himself falling for someone? Of course, but when will he start to do so? Was there really a remarkable person that could persuade the heir to the throne?

He only stared at your petting to his Jihad as he sighed, he wasn't really sure what to tell you. Although this question wasn't new to him considering the king has nagged him about it ever since he was of age, he somehow had a peculiar feeling. He silently commended you on how you questioned him about serious matters, but as an outsider to his personal life, you really had the guts to ask him.

Maybe answering you wasn't much of a hassle, after all he had the time in the world to either reject your query or keep your growing curiosity company.

"I suppose if I tell you, then you will keep it a secret?"

The answer he gave you made you look up to him, never in beat would you think Alhaitham would set aside his usual work for a question that can be answered with a word or two. You slowly gave him a small nod, signaling that you had your senses focused on him. Alhaitham picked up your nod and took his chair, gently dragged it, and placed it just in front of you. He sat and slowly lowered his upper torso to level your face. The proximity between you and him now closer, finding yourself having a close up view of him and the very details of his astonishing beauty.

"How about this," he whispered, he was serious but there was a hint of playfulness in it. You couldn't tell if he was either serious or not, he was, after all, unpredictable. Something he had naturally. "I'll give you three statements, two of which are lies and one is the right answer."

"...and?"

"Of course, you have to guess the right one. In return, you will be doing the same." He crossed his arms and rested against the comfortable seat of the chair. Laid back and composed as ever. "If either of us had the wrong guess, a dare will compensate for it."

"I never expected the young prince to be playful, might as well amuse me by playing truth or dare?" you let out a low chuckle and caressed the feline's cheek with your thumb. Alhaitham replied with a soft scuff, since when did you start to get that kind of sarcasm?

"I'm keeping your curiosity company, might as well leave you and Jihad alone so I can work peacefully."

Never in a millennium had a man genuinely amuse you in such humor. Come to think of it, he was always serious and never replied much nor replied. You have to conclude that he was like a living machine, so to witness him in such proximity in this situation was never on your plate.

"Alright, young prince," you cleared your throat and now looking at him, your attention undivided. "Entertain me, if you please." a soft reply, you spoke.

Upon your response, Alhaitham let out a ghostly smile before he shifted his position. Alhaitham started, positioning himself by leveling you. He leaned once more, whilst he rested both his arms at each thigh, arms supporting his weight and legs partly spread.

"The kingdom of Sumeru is vast and yet to be discovered. Despite our lineage being at the throne for years, some parts itself is yet to be uncovered." he started off. Each word leaving his mouth made you gently nod, absorbing the words he said.

He continued his story coming from his past royal lineage being unsuccessful of searching through the vast sands due to the lack of equipment and knowledge of what lies ahead. Among the few of his ancestors have passed because of unexpected circumstances of their expedition during their reign. Fortunately, through the sacrifices of his kin, the present throne is able to push through the expedition and further survey of the area.

"The sands fascinated my curiosity since I was a young scholar." he crossed his arm yet he kept his gaze focused at you, never breaking it. As if he really had no intention of keeping his eyes off you, not that you'll escape. "I have no intention of taking the crown to begin with, I intend to spend my time as a man who seeks knowledge and the grain of wonders of the dunes of Sumeru."

You replied with a hum, that somehow adds to your hypothesis regarding him finding you and how this curiosity and ongoing questions somehow simply align themselves to give you answers. You weren't in a rush nor had the realization you had initial questions about how he was determined to expand his knowledge and the past aspirations of his kin to broaden their expansion.

"That leads me to saying that I do not wish to marry." Alhaitham's tone was relaxed and monotone, leaning by the soft backrest of the chair he sat.

Shifting, he rested his right hand by the arm rest and his left hand supporting his head as he paused. He looked at you, observing your curious face as he took a pause. Surprisingly, he somehow found himself pleased with this view. Not that he felt that he was superior looking down on you, it was more of how you looked. How effortlessly you made him look at you in awe with your beauty. Those curious and innocent looking eyes you had, spoke for you. It felt like you didn't even have to utter a word for him to digest what you're thinking. Perhaps it is true what they say: the eyes never lie.

"Why?" you gazed at him.

"I am not in a rush nor has it ever crossed my mind," he replied.

"I doubt."

"Who are you to doubt me?"

You let out a soft chuckle with his question.

"I don't doubt you, my prince." you replied. "I doubt how it never crossed your mind."

Alhaitham, interested with your answer, slowly let his curiosity tiptoe. Perhaps it was the perfect time to open your subject to him. The reason why you are here, the reason why you're infront of him, and why he even has the opportunity to speak to you. Of course, you didn't want to surprise him with everything. You had other plans, after all, who doesn't like the chase?

"Perhaps not marriage."

"Then?"

"Perhaps you had someone in mind." you lowered your voice but sure enough that Alhaitham heard of it, he never recalled anyone being so pesky in his mind. He was after all a busy man, he was.

"How can you confirm this suspicion then?"

"I think that leads us to me answering your little game, your highness."

Delightful but terribly annoying on how you seem to know or even assume he gave out the wrong statement but alas, he would never know your true potential if he did not give you the chance to speak. He never belittles anyone's academic and intellectual capability, it was just that he never truly had to try hard to prove anything. But here you are, it seems like someone like you knows how to bite.

"Go on."

"Based on the structure of your statements, I concluded that you were telling the truth regarding the matters of your family's lineage dating back and your history with the dunes." you started, confident but sure. You sat upright but never forgot to pet the asleep feline by your thighs.

"This also leads me to sum up that you do not have plans nor initial plans with the crown, I can recall a certain interaction with the king. He mentioned, nonverbatim, that 'the prince truly amuses me for he is the only heir of this dying lineage of kings, yet he spares no time to reckon keeping up this dynasty of honorable kings.'" With a smile, you looked at Alhaitham.

Perhaps the young prince looked down on such a peculiar woman like you. He often had the perception that you were just an odd woman looking for trouble near the site. He wasn't new to women performing such an act just to get his attention. That in case he was presumably correct, he paid no attention at all. Truly, you were more than just a delight to his study chambers, you intrigue the young prince.

Your assertion kept the young prince amused. In a way he could never comprehend with simple words. Something ignited inside him that his chest felt heavy, in a sense that it also wanted to break free. He could hear the hitch of his inhale and heavy yet silent exhale.

There was something about you that kept Alhaitham's feelings exalted at the present. For such an ethereal looking woman with a peculiar habit of surprising anyone, you did so much aside stir up feelings from him that he could not comprehend what it was. It was warm yet a chill would run his spine.

“Perhaps you can say that marriage itself has never been in the status as convenient to you but to say that you had no person to think of intrigues me a lot, sir.”

“You're doubting me?

“I distress your majesty, perhaps let us put it in this way…” you sat up and fixed your posture. Surely, this would sound ridiculous but oh well, better have said it then regret it afterwards.

“You’re assuming then?” Alhaitham argued, keeping up his neutral expression while internally being entertained with her little show.

“No-” you said.

“Suggesting?”

“Your highness-”

“Are you a matchmaker then?”

With his rapid interruption, you heaved a heavy sigh, admitting defeat as his interruption unfortunately got through your nerves. You didn’t wish to be annoyed at the young prince, it was pretty much obvious that he was doing it on purpose. Alhaitham somehow finds it rather…amusing.

“Your highness, I think we should call it a night.” you closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself. “You have errands tomorrow.”

Alhaitham let out a low chuckle, seemingly enjoying his small victory of trying to get into your nerves.

“Ah, and they say escape is defeat.” Alhaitham shifted his seat and made himself comfortable by leaning onto the back cushion of the seat. His eyes gazing at your defeated look, eyes looking away and your plump lips pouting. He was never the type to exasperate anyone just because he wanted to lest he never experience the annoyance from someone who does it randomly.

But here you are, looking incredibly annoyed yet delicately beautiful without any effort. He must admit that he never came across any woman with such sharpness and wit, still blessed with her beauty and grace.

“Apologies, I must have you at wits end.” He spoke as he stood up from his seat.

He walked towards the center of his chambers. At the center of his chamber lies a square pool filled with varieties of fresh flowers and lotuses that float the pristine water. He took one nilotpala lotus and a single zaytun peach and sat back at his chair just near you.

You watched him closely come back to his seat. He placed the zaytun peach just at his table for he kept both of his palms busy with the lotus.

“I do not think this is an appropriate gift for making amends with you but…” he looked at the damp and freshly bloomed lotus in his palm before he gazed at you. “...allow me to offer this lotus to you, they say it only blooms at night to reveal its beauty.”

He gently took the flower and handed it over to you. Taking the flower, you placed it and carefully cupped the delicate lotus. You never had the opportunity to see it bloom, thus this was a sight to see to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham came to know that you had taken a liking to these delicate lotuses. He observed you sit by the pool of the garden, looking at your reflection and the lotuses that are yet to bloom. He knew you would sit hours just for it to bloom but to no avail, you eventually wasted your afternoon just for it to bloom.

“This is a nilotpala lotus.” you spoke, observing the intricate parts of the flower up close. You had a waft of its floral and sweet scent. “I’ve always wanted to see them bloom but I do not get the opportunity to see them fully bloom.” You looked up to him with bliss and with a smile.

“Is that so?” He knew, of course. He wouldn’t say it. Perhaps this would be his reward and somehow, he felt a sense of contentment seeing you in such bliss. He took the peach, effortlessly tore it in half, and gazed at you

“Truth is, your answers are all correct.” he admitted defeat with a sigh, he slowly took a bite from the other half of the peach, his eyes never leaving you. Upon hearing him, a little smile formed your lips.

“So, you have someone on your mind?”

He then propped himself by sitting at the red carpet, just in front of you

“Indeed,” he answered.

You were surprised by the prince’s offering. He was acting unusual in a way that intrigued you. He was the busiest person inside the kingdom and never did he spare time for such trivial matters that would slow him down. And now, he’s eating a peach in front of you. You could only watch him savour the sweet peach, another bite and the juice of the fruit ran down to his chin.

Instinctively, you wiped the juice from his chin with your thumb. He caught your wrist, guided it near his lips, and pressed your thumb gently to his lips. Upon your thumb making contact with his lips, he briefly closed his eyes before he bore and gazed back at you. Alhaitham’s eyes were half lidded and seemingly focused on you, never did it cross his mind to let your thumb break from his lips.

You were dumbfounded by the sudden action, as much as you wanted to break free from the contact, you found yourself unable to do so. As if you turned into a statue, unable to react nor say a word. For a few moments, the both of you stayed still as if trying to savor every second of the moment.

He took the opportunity to study your face. There was no doubt that you looked exactly just like the woman in his dreams. There was no flaw, no inadequacy, no spot for him to point out and convince himself that you are not her. You are her, he’s starting to believe. For days, he never had any particular dreams about that woman again. Could it be that the dreams were no longer needed because you are here? The mysterious woman in his dreams was in front of him, thus the dreams were no longer active, he theorized.

“My prince,” a soft and hushed voice called his attention back and it was you, flustered and heart racing from such sudden intimacy the prince showed.

He only let out a small chuckle, pressing a small kiss by your thumb before he looked at you. “Who are you, really?”

He gazed at you with such curious and longing eyes, as if trying to decipher and unravel the hidden divinity of you. He then kissed the knuckles of your hand, to the back of your palm, his lips touching and leaving kisses through your arms, now reaching to your shoulders and leaving a small peck to your shoulder. He then drew his lips closer to your ear, inhaling, before he spoke.

“Tell me, please.” he rested his forehead to your shoulder, his ministrations leaving you breathless and speechless. Your body started to heat up from the proximity between you and Alhaitham. He left a single kiss by your neck before he cupped your cheek and gazed at you with such intensity.

He gazed at you, expecting that your eyes might at least give him answers he is looking for. You could only return the gaze with your doe like eyes scanning his face with visible frustration etched in his face. There was so much intensity between the proximity between the two of you. No words uttered from thereon, only deep breaths and fervent exchange of gaze.

Your faces were inches away, almost like the space between the two of you was edging the both of you. Alhaitham was the kind of man who knows what he wants, he had no business with being indecisive nor mingling with people being indecisive even at the most little matters. But at this very moment, this proximity had him questioning his ability to recognize and decide. Seems like his logic and to rationalize was slowly slipping away from his mind.

“Won’t you?” he whispered, his cheek against your cheek. This was completely different from the dreams he had with you. This was the closest thing for a dream to come true. You could feel your cheeks and nape heat up. Goosebumps running through your skin, his delicate touch seemingly adding more fuel to the fire.

And when he couldn’t resist you anymore, Alhaitham left a soft and long kiss against your plush lips. This was beyond comprehension, everything was happening all at once. A while ago you were anticipating a plausible argument and now, the esteemed and sought after prince of Sumeru is at your level and kissed a goddess who hindered herself from the growing world.

Just before Alhaitham could deepen his kiss, a presence of two women entered his huge chambers. Just by the hallway, stood two ladies-in-waiting. They didn’t dare to interrupt nor get closer to the rather peculiar situation between the prince and you. They couldn’t comprehend what it was since Alhaitham’s back was facing them, and the kiss was angled in a rather hidden manner. As curious as they may seem, they dare not to probe their majesty.

“Your highness, we apologize for interrupting,” one of the ladies spoke, her head hung low.

Alhaitham slowly broke the kiss, his eyes half lidded. You couldn’t deny it; this man was attractive– no, he is a beautiful man. To say that he is simply attractive is an understatement, what more when the prince himself yearns more kisses from you. Upon hearing one of your ladies-in-waiting speak, you quickly hid your face by his side, as if wanting to disintegrate yourself from the embarrassment.

“Hm,” Alhaitham hushed. “What is it?”

“We came here to escort our lady back to her chambers. It is late and she was supposed to sleep an hour ago.” she spoke, softly.

Hearing this, Alhaitham let out a ghostly smile. “Yes, your lady here has fallen asleep on my carpet.”

Your brows furrowed from his answer but you knew it was a better reason than telling them what had actually happened.

Alhaitham looked at the ladies, instructing them with his usual tone as if nothing happened. “Prepare her bed, I will be carrying her to her room.”

To which they nodded and left his study chambers

And just like that, Alhaitham picked up a soft white linen from his bed and carefully covered your body so that it would not be exposed by the cold breeze of the evening. He carried you in a bridal style and still you never spoke nor looked at him again. Everything was fresh and surreal, you kept thinking about it and you never noticed that you were already being laid by him at your bed.

You quickly hid your face upon reaching the bed and covering yourself with the blanket.

Alhaitham only looked at you, but deep inside, he knew what you felt. He could’ve done so much if he wasn’t interrupted but he also knew it was better that things do not escalate as he wanted to know more about you and what you truly are.

One of the ladies escorted him out of your room when he spoke.

“Be sure to fill her vase with fresh padisarah flowers by the morning.” he stopped his track as he reached outside her room. “See to it that you get a big jar and place nilotpala lotuses to it, let her tend to it once it arrives.”

The lady nodded in response.

“Dress her tomorrow, we will be having a stroll by the royal garden and city.”

A/N: See ya guys on the next chapter. If you wanna be tagged, comment! | Pinned Navigation | Chapter one of CREDENCE |

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waitimcomingtoo · 11 months ago

Text

Meet Me Behind The Mall

Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader

Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out

Masterlist

In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.

“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.

After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”

“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.

“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.

That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.

“Where are you going, gorgeous?”

You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.

“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.

“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.

“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.

“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.

“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.

“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.

“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.

“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.

“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.

“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.

“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.

“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.

“Hey!” The man shouted.

“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”

The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.

“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.

“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.

“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.

“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”

“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.

“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.

“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.

“He is?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”

“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”

“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.

“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.

“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”

Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.

“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.

“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”

Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.

“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.

“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.

“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”

“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”

“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”

“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”

“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.

“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”

“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.

“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.

“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.

“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.

“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.

“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.

“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.

“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.

“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”

“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”

“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.

“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”

You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.

“See you at school?” You asked him.

“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.

“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Good night.” He called after you.

Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.

“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”

“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”

“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”

“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.

“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.

“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.

“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.

“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.

“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.

“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.

“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.

“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.

“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.

“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.

“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.

“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.

“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.

“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.

“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.

“I’m not.” He lied.

“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.

“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.

“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”

“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”

“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”

“I’m not on social media.” He told you.

“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.

“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.

“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s weird?” He wondered.

“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.

“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.

“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.

“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.

“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.

“You right.” He mumbled.

“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”

“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”

“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was 15.”

“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.

“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”

“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”

“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”

“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.

“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.

“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.

“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.

“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.

“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.

“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.

“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.

That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.

“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.

“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.

“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.

“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.

“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”

“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.

“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.

“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”

“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re talking to me.”

“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”

“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”

“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.

“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”

“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.

“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.

“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”

“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.

“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.

“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”

He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.

“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.

“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.

“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.

“They came here without you?”

“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.

“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”

“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”

“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”

“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.

“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”

“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.

“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”

“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.

“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.

“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.

“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.

“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.

“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”

Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.

“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.

“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.

“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.

“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”

“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.

“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.

“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.

“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.

“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”

“Something about me? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”

“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.

“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”

“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.

“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”

“A hot nerd?”

“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.

“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”

“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”

“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.

“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.

“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.

“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.

“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.

“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”

“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.

“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.

“So I was the first to figure it out?”

“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”

“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.

“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.

“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.

“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”

“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”

“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”

“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”

“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”

“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.

“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.

“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.

“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.

“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.

“Why red and blue?” You wondered.

“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.

“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”

“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.

“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.

When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.

“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.

“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”

“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.

“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”

“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.

“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.

“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”

“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.

“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”

“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“

“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.

“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.

“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”

“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.

“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.

“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.

“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.

“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.

You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”

“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.

“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.

“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”

“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.

“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.

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