#and just took his tools and fucking booked it

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 1

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Desperately at your absolute limit, you decide to see one last therapist to try and help with your condition. After one session, Dr. Richmond manages to put you at ease, giving you enough tools to start you on your journey. As the exploration continues, your true hope is that you don’t get burned.

Word Count: 4,648k

AO3 Link | Part 2

A/N: Don't judge me for this chile. I saw that beautiful man in a black turtleneck with glasses and lost my marbles. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

He came highly recommended. That was the only reason you were here. You’d stared at his pictures and read all of the available posts recommending him but you couldn’t get over the fact that he was so damn pretty. And intimidating. 

But after going through nine different therapists, most who ended up as creeps or couldn’t help you, you were at your wit’s end. It was already embarrassing enough starting over with a brand new therapist, but this had to take the cake. 

The hallway was quiet, with muted browns and reds. Supposedly academic, soothing colors. As if the darker the color, the less likely you were to think about anything sexual. You stared at the imposing brown door with his name embossed on a placard. Dr. Terry Richmond. 

You bit your lip and stared at the slip in your hand with the referral scrawled across it. He took on special cases. Pathetic cases. 

“Fuck this,” you said to yourself. You turned on your heel and stepped down the hallway. The door opened and the man himself looked down the hallway. 

“Are you my two o’clock?” He asked. His deep baritone was unexpected. Soothing. Calming. Unnerving. 

“Uh,” you sighed.

He continued to stare so you continued to stare back. He wore an all black outfit, right down to his black tennis shoes. He wore a long sleeved black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black, form fitting pants that only highlighted how tall he was. He had to be 6’1. Hell, possibly 6’3. 

He cleared his throat, looking for an answer. Light refracted off of his frames, temporarily hiding his eyes. You gripped the straps of your purse and squared your shoulders. “Yes,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded his head and waved you inside. You walked behind him, feeling like you were walking to your doom. Inside his office, it was just as drab as outside.

Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical texts and non-fictional books on powerful Black figures through history. The office was small, but clean, with a golden brown sofa pushed against a solid wall of taupe. He had a painting above the sofa, showing a serene ocean view with a boat out on the water. 

Natural light filtered into the room from a window showcasing the cityscape outside. His office was high up in the building, letting you look down on all the people living their normal lives. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped, whipping around to see Dr. Richmond leaning away from the door. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, would you like it to remain open?” He asked. 

You shook your head. Closed was preferable. You watched Dr. Richmond take his seat behind a massive desk, everything in a neat stack and in its proper place. He rolled forward and then opened a black folder, picking up a pen.

“Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself,” he said.

“My thick ass file didn’t give me away? Sorry, I shouldn’t say ass. Sorry,” you said and winced after cussing so much. You pointed to a thick file on his desk and you knew without a doubt that it was yours. 

It was crazy how you had a full record of your insanity, detailing how you started down this deep, dark path. Cataloged every doctor, every note, every nasty thought in your mind. Okay, you were being a little dramatic, but this was just so…embarrassing. And it didn’t help to have someone who looked like that hearing what you had to say. 

“There’s no rules here. You want to say ass, go for it,” he said and shrugged. 

You giggled, feeling more at ease. You nodded and took a seat on the sofa. There was a clear coffee table in front of it that held a zen garden complete with little trees, shiny rocks, and…were those Lego figures? You looked from it to him and he smirked, drawing your attention to his full, lush lips. 

 “Some people find it easier to occupy their hands during discussions. You can give it a try if you want,” he said.

You sat back on the sofa. Maybe later. You felt too awkward as is. Like you were some alien visitor testing out your disguise on the human population. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your leggings and shook your head. “What, uh, did my file say about me?” 

Dr. Richmond shrugged and leaned back in his seat, fixing his thin gold glasses on his face. “Those are words and opinions from other doctors. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” he said and leaned back in his seat.

He was so…disarming in a way that allowed you to release the ironclad control you held on to. You picked at your nails and focused on that, rather than his stormy eyes. “I think I’m broken. And I’m not entirely sure why I’m even entertaining this,” you said. 

“Why are you then?” He prompted.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Tired of feeling like a freak,” you said.

“A freak? Why would you use that term?” He asked. 

You snuck a glance at him. He no longer held the pen. He rested his hands against his stomach, clasped, and just looked at you. Even that was different from all your other therapists combined. 

“Because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m in a freak show. I–,” you stopped and licked your lips. But you were here now. May as well rip the bandaid off. “I can’t cum! And I know, it’s normal. I know plenty of people experience it. I know that women especially have a hard time doing it. But no matter what I fuckin’ try, I just can’t. I feel it coming, I know it’s coming, but then it sort of…goes away? And then I’m sitting there embarrassed that I can’t and when I’m with a partner, they pretend that it’s cool, but then I never hear from them again.” 

You clicked your teeth shut as you realized you were rambling. You picked at a stiff hangnail, tugged at it until it started to hurt. You continued flicking at it, egged on by your awkwardness. And realizing you were being awkward was only making it worse. So you picked. And picked, until the hangnail tore and hurt worse. 

“Why is it important that you cum?” He asked. 

“What?” You asked. You looked at him, expecting to see pity. Disgust. Curiousness. Dr. Richmond held none of those things. His face was a pillar of stoicism, balancing the perfect mix of professionalism and empathy. 

“Why is it so important to you? If you know that it’s normal and plenty of people experience it, shouldn’t the journey matter more than the destination?” He asked. 

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp as you looked at him. Your mind emptied of every single possible answer to that question. It was important because…it was. Because you never got anything else right either. You were always a step behind, slow on the uptick, feeling like you were taking up too much space in the world even after shrinking yourself to the smallest possible point.

Not easy to do considering your size. You loved your body and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it wasn’t exactly easy to hide. You were unassuming, sweet, kind, and a great friend. But beneath all of that, you wanted desperately to fit in. This was a basic human release. It was part of the big three things that humans needed. Food, safety, sex. And you could only achieve one of those things.

But how did you word that without sounding like a pathetic kook? You pulled at the hangnail, felt the burn as it ripped, and shrugged your shoulders. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I feel like a freak when I can’t. Like I waited too long. To have sex, to experience life, to explore what I’m into,” you said. 

“Do you think there are goal posts for life?” He asked. He may as well have been a statue for how often he moved. He retained his position, chair turned slightly towards you, as he looked at you like you were a puzzle. 

“Isn’t there? That’s why we call them milestones? Reach your 18th birthday, yay you’re an adult. Find the love of your life, yay you’re married. Pop out some kids, yay, you’re continuing the bloodline. I feel like now, at my age, I should know what one fuckin’ orgasm feels like,” you said. 

“How do you know you haven’t had one already?” He asked.

“I know my body. There’s nothing. There’s the build up, there’s the excitement, there’s everything leading up to it. But I never get over that peak. It just…goes away,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and turned his attention to the pad. He wrote down a few sentences and it was so quiet in his office, you could hear a clock ticking nearby. You also heard his pen scratch against the paper. He must be using some fancy, fountain pen. He looked the type. 

“What do you hope to achieve through therapy?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “If I knew, you wouldn’t be my tenth therapist,” you said with a heavy sigh. When you first thought about going to therapy, you thought it wasn’t truly for you. There was nothing that really bothered you outside of life’s stress. Everybody had that. 

But you ended up finding some that encouraged you to dig deep and find the woman within. The one comfortable in her skin. Encouraged you to explore your sexuality and think about it in depth. You crawled through so many forums, so many health websites, so many articles that you had a great idea of what ailed you. 

“There has to be a reason you keep trying,” he said. 

You leaned back into the sofa with a huff. “You definitely ask the easy questions. What happened to the intake and whatever?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. He tapped his pen against your folder. “You’ve done plenty of that, don’t you think?” 

Your lips twisted with a smile. Okay, maybe you were starting to see why he was so highly recommended. He was comforting without being condescending. Soothing without being smarmy. He treated you like an adult and for the first time, you had a little beacon of hope. 

“I keep trying because I want it. I don’t have the words right now to describe why I want it. I want to know the hype. I want the relief. I want to know what post nut clarity feels like,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled and you chuckled with him. It sounded funny, but you were so serious. It was exhausting at this point. Pretending like you knew what the fuck you were talking about when others asked you. Your group chat blew up with your equally single friends who were less discerning about who they took to bed.

Every other night, there were stories about dick sizes, oral, and a whole treatise on the lack of finesse these guys had. You almost snorted thinking about your best friend, Brooklyn, and how she said that no wonder men were trapping women in marriages in the past. It was the only way they could get women to be with them. It certainly wasn’t because of their pornographic sexual prowess. 

“What’s been your journey with sex so far?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath and told him all about it. The way that you picked up a book one day with sex in it and never looked back. In a lot of ways, that book probably shaped how you viewed sex and your sexual kinks. Before long, you were searching for more and more books with the exact same tropes. A sexy, semi-asshole alpha male that was too big to be real. 7’8, long dick, and a short attitude. Typically bad boy types with tattoos and “touch her and die” vibes. The kind to only be soft with the female main character.

You could wax poetic about why it appealed to you. Blah blah blah, you had a terrible childhood where you felt invisible. It was all there in the file if he wanted to take a gander. 

“I know I’m submissive, that I want to be dominated in bed. But, whew, the game out here is ridiculous,” you said. “The men I wouldn’t mind submitting to are too damn weak to take control. The men I would never submit to act like I’m their pet already and can speak to me however they want.” 

“Do you think you’re being too picky?” He asked. 

You were startled into a laugh. “What gave me away, Dr. Richmond?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “I have a process, bear with me,” he said. That ain’t all you wanted to do. He was fine as hell. You mentally shook your head. No, you could not go there. Not at all. 

You continued to discuss how you led to certain conclusions. Yes, you were picky. But why shouldn’t you be? You weren’t seeking perfection. You just wanted something normal. Something healthy. Something toe curling, mind numbing, sickeningly disgusting and sweet. Was that too much to ask for? 

Dr. Richmond asked more questions and you relaxed fraction by fraction, getting right to the core of why you were seeking professional help. You told him about some of the partners you had. Some who were sweet and really tried. You had a long term boyfriend at one point who was attentive and caring. But he fell short of making you cum. 

He ate you out long enough to get you wet and going and then jumped straight to sex just so he could cum. You often lied about cumming until it got too exhausting to keep up with. He promptly got mad, hurt that you lied, and possibly embarrassed that he wasn’t God’s gift to sex. His loss. 

It was awkward at first to discuss such intimate details with Dr. Richmond but you often forgot he was even there. Until he asked you to expand on something you said or ask a clarifying question. Even the scratch of his pen faded into the background as you spoke about how you arrived in his office. 

Dr. Richmond finally finished and leaned back in his seat once more, squaring his broad shoulders against the high back of his chair. He crossed his leg and looked at you and you briefly wondered what he’d look like without the glasses. 

“We’re nearing the end of our session but I think I’m getting a clearer picture of why you’re here. After hearing from you and looking through your file, it seems like your perception of what sex really is has been skewed. Either through these books, these movies, or even porn. It’s perfectly okay to consider what you like in bed or what you prefer in a partner. But most people’s foray into their sexual journey starts with themselves. What’s your relationship like with your body?” 

“I love my body,” you said, immediately. Why wouldn’t you love your body? You were gorgeous. Sure, you struggled with your weight, but you didn’t want to be thin anyway. You just wanted to roll out of bed without being out of breath sometimes. Or cut your toenails without having to stop every few minutes for air. 

Dr. Richmond licked his lips and your eyes dropped immediately to it. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and it drew your attention to his big hands. Too damn bad you hadn’t met him under better circumstances. You bet he could make you cum. Often.

“What else?” He asked. 

“What else is there?” You asked, clearing your throat, and drawing your attention away from how drop dead gorgeous he was. Your thoughts ran wild still, picturing him in all sorts of nasty scenarios. If nothing else, your imagination was always there to show you a good time. Your own perfect world where you experienced back to back orgasms. 

“What has your personal sexual journey encompassed besides you loving your body? Do you touch yourself?” He asked. 

You fought every urge you had to squeeze your thighs together. How the hell did this man end up in this profession? He missed his calling as a phone sex operator. Or an erotic audio content creator. Good lord, he could have people eating out of the palm of his hand if he so wished. Swimming in a tub full of money earned from hundreds of thousands of horny bitches who could cum to his voice alone. Lucky bitches.

You shrugged. “Of course I touch myself. I can’t cum that way either,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “This only works if you lower them walls you try so hard to hide behind,” he said.

You kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. The hell did he know. So what if he had fancy doctor diplomas behind his chair. So what if he had a MD in this field. What the hell did he know?

After cursing him out two ways from Sunday in your mind, you deflated. “I know I’m not relaxed when I masterbate. I lock my door, I put on headphones, and I still feel like I’m…”

“Like you’re…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

“Being watched? Being judged? You can probably guess I grew up religious. It’s not like I had enough time or space to explore my body. My room was directly next to my parents’. If I so much as sighed too loud, my mom was banging on my wall telling me to fix my attitude,” you admitted. That had been oodles of fun. Growing up, you couldn’t even roll your eyes without someone telling you to fix your face. 

“What does relax you then?” He asked.

“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled, showing off a dazzling, mega-watt movie star smile that made your knees weak. If you weren’t already sitting down, you’d fall flat on your face. 

“I believe I can help you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I need total, focused commitment from you. Do you think you can do that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said instantly. There wasn’t even a question. You wanted this more than breathing, more than eating. And that was saying something because you would happily drive far and wide for a good meal. 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Good. I’m giving you homework. I want you to spend the next week exploring your body. Nothing sexual. Spend time in your body and with your body. Touch yourself, but no masterbating. When you shower, acknowledge your body. When you lotion up, pay attention to every mole, every scar. This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body. I also want you to keep a journal. You won’t share it with me unless you want to, but this exercise is to get you in tune with your body. Rewire how you perceive sex and sexual completion. Does that sound doable?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment. He must not know the effect he had on those around him. He had to be completely clueless. Batshit fucking oblivious. The wreck he was having on your libido was absolutely insane. 

Joking aside, you were taking this seriously. In just one session, Dr. Richmond managed to give you a tiny spark of hope. That maybe you weren’t a lost cause. You immediately tempered your thoughts. Hope hurt. You’d been hopeful so many times in the past, with different therapists, who seemed like they had a plan to help you.

Only for them to diagnose some other problem. You had anxiety, duh. You had depression, shocker. You had a laundry list of diagnoses from doctors and therapists who just thought you were obsessed with sex. That was like saying the sky was blue. Who wasn’t obsessed with sex? Besides asexual people. 

“I’ll do it,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He went over your schedule, working out a time to see him once a week until you would eventually graduate to fewer sessions. That bummed you out. Not seeing his gorgeous face ever again? Could you fake another issue and continue seeing him? 

Dr. Richmond dismissed you and you left his office feeling a smidgen lighter than when you entered. Maybe this would actually work out. Maybe. 

Terry

Terry finished with his last client of the day and went over his notes, inputting his clearer thoughts into the patient portal on his laptop. When he ran across your file, he paused and opened it once more.

Your case fascinated him. He couldn’t stop pouring over your files, doctor’s notes, direct quotes. There had been plenty of therapists before him, all trying to help the beautiful woman who entered his office earlier in the afternoon. 

He wasn’t immune to his patients. Some were beautiful and charming and all tried to flirt their way into his bed. He never crossed that line. Never. Yet…when you discussed your story, the rawness of it captivated him. He held onto your every word like you were a theater production right before his eyes. 

He hardly took notes because he was so fascinated with the dichotomy of you. On the outside, you were a bit shy. Perhaps too self-aware which led you to shrink, hide who you really were. He got the sense that there was an entire universe wrapped up in your mind and he began asking deeper questions than he ever had on a first session. 

The hour had gone by too fast for his tastes. He wanted to hear more. Learn more. Know more. He hated to admit it, he even got semi-erect as you told your tale. He was understandably disgusted and it wasn’t the first time; occupational hazard. But it was the first time he’d ever cursed his medical degree. 

You were perfect. Absolutely perfect. When you admitted to being submissive, his dick even twitched. Ached. Why couldn’t he have met you somewhere else? Surely, fate hadn’t been so cruel as to put the perfect sub within reach and then ensure that he could never have you? Never touch you? 

Describing your previous lovers actually made his chest boil. You had been subjected to ignorant men who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. And they had you believing that you were the problem. It was laughable. It was maddening. It was cruel. 

He frowned at your file. He had gone over it so many times in preparation for the session. He didn’t know what would walk through the door. A file this thick? He thought he’d have a sex-obsessed, delusional fiend on his hands that he’d have to contend with.

Your wish of cumming was almost cute. Terry sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking it was cute. If anything, he should be passing your case off to his colleague down the hall. Dr. Crawford was as capable as Terry was, their ideas often aligning in regards to treatment.

He preferred a holistic approach. Most problems could be resolved within a few months, once people began to shift their idea of sex and their role in it. 

“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” That was one of his favorite quotes, said so many times that no one truly knew where it originated. 

It was a quote he often repeated to his patients at the right moment. When they were beginning to discover a part of themselves previously unexplored. He wondered how long it would take for your moment? That dawning realization. 

He was only sad he couldn’t see it in real time. That moment when you let yourself feel. Let yourself relax and sink into that subspace you so desperately needed. Terry grunted and closed your file. 

He was about to crack you open like an egg and watch a brand new woman emerge. He was about to hand you off to the first man who pretended to understand your needs. He took out his fresh notepad, every patient got one, and scribbled some more notes. He’d have to make sure you understood the difference between a real dom and a little boy playing dress up. 

His eyes scanned across his earlier notes, little things he jotted down while you spoke. Areas you skipped over, areas you expanded on. They were only a sentence or two long, something to kickstart his memory. Because at the time, his eyes were focused on you. On your face, your voice, your mannerisms. 

It was both a curse and a blessing to notice so much. See so much. Understand so much. But it worked when necessary. You deflected about your sexual partners, retreated when he tried to push further about how you reached these conclusions. What methods you tried.

Usually, Terry did a whole song and dance to ease patients into talking about sex. Sex was taboo until it was time to have it. Now everything was awkward, unbalanced, and led to too many instances of abuse. 

But between your file and how skittish but determined you seemed, you didn’t need a song and dance. You needed someone to give you guideposts. You didn’t truly need therapists. You just needed a nudge in the right direction. A nudge to someone else.

Terry pursed his lips and looked at your name on the file. He had to be careful. If he wasn’t, you would end up being trouble in more ways than one. 

He finished up the last of his notes and then scanned through for anything he might have missed. He wrote down what your homework assignment was. He hadn’t truly known where that came from. 

Perhaps it was the look in your eyes. Perhaps it was the helpless, frantic twist to your mouth that had him going from zero to one hundred where you were concerned. But the more he described it, the lower your eyes went. The way your mouth slackened just a bit. As if you were caught in some picture in your mind that he couldn’t see. 

Terry leaned away from his desk and looked outside of his window. The tinted glass showed the sun in the distance, sinking lower towards the horizon. A bird flew, twisting and turning with the hot currents it found. 

He ought to do the right thing. There was no way to remain objective in this manner. Not when he was strangely drawn to you, drawn to your file, and drawn to the unique challenge it presented. 

You could very well end up a case study in some medical textbook or journal, name changed, but the presentation exactly the same. He didn’t relish the thought of being the one to put you there. But your case could end up helping someone else. It was the way the world worked.

He only hoped that he had enough self-restraint to walk away if he found himself compromised. If he couldn’t reign in his personal tastes and habits to help you. If he found himself looking at your lips as you spoke, your smile as you made self-deprecating jokes, or the shy way you licked your lips. 

“Shit.” He took his phone out of his bag and hit up his on again, off again submissive play partner, Tasia. Perhaps it’d been too long since he took care of his own needs. Perhaps what he needed was to release the pent up tension he carried around all the time. 

How long had it been? He didn’t know. But even as he set up the details with Tasia, he couldn’t help wondering if you were following his directions to the letter.

I said don't judge me! LOL. Thank you for reading, truly.

The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 2

Taglist:

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[ppomumgranatum]

the dance of love's sweet potion.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: fluff, one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader, jealousy, protective

word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MAJOR HEADCANNON, the books and the potions are all in my head just for the sake of this story, characters are in their 7th year, I finally caved and wrote the cliche protective and jealous seb and i fucking love it

Summary: When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

Notes: I was craving some fluff, so a fluff was created ❤️

Revulsaroma is a powerful potion that demands careful handling and discretion. Designed for specific situations where deterring unwanted advances or repelling individuals is necessary, its potency requires utmost caution. Ingredients: • 3 drops of essence of skunk cabbage • 2 crushed doxy wings • 1 teaspoon of powdered Boomslang skin • 4 ounces of extract from a Devil's Snare vine • 1 pinch of powdered Basilisk fang • Hair from the person brewing the potion

You carefully traced your finger along the intricate words laid out in the book you had kept from your parents’ dusty collection on potion making and meticulously followed the instructions. Taking advantage of the quiet after hours, you used the station at potion class to get on with your mission.

You’re not a pro in potion making per se, but the way you precisely measure out ingredients, stirring the potion with such poise, you feel as skilled as Professor Sharp– if he was plagued with a horrible disease of a red-haired boy goes by the name of Leander Prewett. 

For weeks, Leander had been following you around so relentlessly and constantly asking you out. It was cute at first but now it was starting to feel like pure harassment. Despite numerous rejection, it didn't seem like he’s the type of guy who understood the concept of boundaries and your patience was wearing extremely thin. 

You remembered an old potion you once came across when you were younger– Revulsaroma, a repelling potion. You figured it was time to revisit those pages since you’re in a dire need for a solution. 

You stirred the components inside of your cauldron with a pinch of determination, distress, and a lot of rage. The earthy and putrid notes filled the air and it was probably going to stick with you for a while but you surely hoped this was going to be worth it.

When the potion finally came to completion, you carefully transferred it to a pumpkin juice bottle to trick Leander into drinking it.

“Alright, that looks good.” You sighed in relief as you put the bottle down and stared at the securely stored dark liquid with pride, knowing that soon you’d be able to take a break from the unwanted attention. At least for a while just until you could figure out a permanent way to stop him, 

You proceeded to clean up your station and returned some tools that you took from the inventory room, making sure that everything was back in its rightful spot. Because Merlin knew that you couldn’t take another chide from Professor Sharp about the importance of being responsible and organised.

Just when everything was about to be restored to its pristine state, you heard a loud retching coming from the other room. When you rushed outside, you saw your bestfriend, hands desperately grasping the edge of your station, body racked with violent gagging, and breath ragged in a grave attempt to gasp for air.

“Sebastian?” You exclaimed while rushing to his side, “Are you alright?”

“Came to—bleughh—look for you,” Sebastian managed to say in between his guttural heaves.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice trailed off when you saw your pumpkin juice bottle collapsed and empty. Right at that moment, your eyes widened at the realisation that Sebastian just drank your Revulsaroma. “No, no, no. You bloody, bloody idiot!” 

Quickly, you summoned water from an empty jar that you found nearby and gave it to Sebastian who was still fighting the disgusting taste stuck in his throat.

Gulping down the entire water in a matter of milliseconds, Sebastian attempted to catch his breath, “Your pumpkin juice— is expired, by the way.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, Sebastian!” You ran your fingers through your hair in distress. What was already a pretty stressful situation just got a whole lot worse. 

“What?” He was truly not getting your frustration. He gagged once more, recoiling whatever last bit of that disgusting liquid he's tasting.

“That’s not pumpkin juice!” You scowled and gestured abruptly.

“What is it, then? Poison?” Every muscle on his face seemed to tensed up, still.

“Why would you fucking drink that? It was meant for Leander.” You grunted.

His grimace was then taken over by disbelief for a moment, “Gods, killing Leander is a bit extreme, don’t you think? Even for me.”

“No—ugh,” You sighed heavily, feeling totally overwhelmed. Slumping on your station, you rested your head on it "This is bad. It's really bad."

“You're freaking me out. What is it?”

You lifted your head from the table, meeting his concerned gaze with a weary expression.

“It’s a potion called Revulsaroma. It is supposed to repel whoever drinks it.” You admitted.

Sebastian was still focused on getting the foul taste out of his tongue, but his eyes were quickly narrowed in the scrutiny of your last sentence, “And why exactly are you trying to repel Leander?”

Catching Sebastian's look, a twinge of guilt pricked at you. You winced inwardly, realising you'd never really spilled the beans to Sebastian about the whole Leander debacle. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea and thinking that there was anything romantic going on between you and the Gryffindor boy. 

The line on your relationship with Sebastian had always been blurry, if you could be honest. You’re obviously friends—best friends—but at the same time, the chemistry between the two of you would be such a waste to stay as friends.

You’d occasionally exchange innocent flirting, teasing each other and bantering in a way that felt more than platonic. You couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered every time he smiled at you and the way you felt when he complimented you.

Things had been going very well lately, and you'd like to think you had a shot to turn it into something more.

But now, he’s consumed the one thing that was going to seal the chance you have with him. Because whatever feeling he was going to feel, the potion was supposed to make him feel it so strongly. 

The thought of losing Sebastian terrified you.

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.” You diverted the topic and reached out to your book, checking for things to look out for. Your eyes trailed the ink that explains the detail of the potion.

You noticed Sebastian had shifted his weight from the corner of your eye, moving somewhat uncomfortable in his feet.

"But what does that mean for me?" he asked.

You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "According to the potion's effects, you're supposed to start feeling aversions towards me," you explained, gesturing towards the brewing cauldron with a frustrated gesture. "and I have no idea how to reverse it.”

Your voice was heavy with disappointment. The same emotion was written all over Sebastian's face. There was silence as you both processed the fact that there was no quick fix to this mess.

“So, I’m supposed to hate you? Just like that?”

“That’s kind of the whole point of the potion.”

Sebastian's eyes scanned the cluttered laboratory, a look of resignation settling over his features. "Well, this is just great," he muttered under his breath. Sebastian's complexion turned paler, a nauseous expression crossing his features, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Sebastian stood there, his hand pressed against his stomach, unsure if the wave of nausea washing over him was solely due to the potion's effects or the unsettling thought of hating you.

But then he felt his body teetering on the brink of collapse. You grappled his arm to provide support but his condition worsened in an instant and he started to fall backwards. Using every ounce of your strength, you were struggling to keep him upright because damn this boy was heavy. And when his weight eventually bore you down, you lowered him down gently.

There was no response even after you called out his name and shook his body. His breathing was laboured and you were panicking. You didn’t know the potion would be this strong.

Spotting a group of students who were passing by outside of the classroom, you called out to them for assistance. Sebastian was then taken to the infirmary and was given proper treatment by Nurse Blainey.

You had to awkwardly explain what caused the brunette to lose his consciousness. Given the fact that you were practising and using potions for non-study purposes, disciplinary action was necessary and you were required to attend detention tomorrow.

When you returned to your room that night, all you did was shift around in your bed. Spending the entire night thinking about Sebastian and how he will wake up in the morning hating you.

But for now, all you could do was wait.

 - 

When the sun rose, you were quick to get back on your feet and head towards the infirmary to check on Sebastian before breakfast started. But to your surprise, he was no longer there. Nurse Blainey said he woke up all energetic and there were no signs of any disturbance so she allowed him to get on with school.

You were slightly relieved to know that Sebastian was feeling better. Although the question of his feelings towards you remained unknown.

So you ventured on, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Moving along with a crowd of students who were also making their way to the venue you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” You glanced up to see it was no other than Sebastian, “Hey, I was looking for you.”

You’ve caused some traffic considering you abruptly stopped in the middle of a walkaway crowd. Some were bumping into you and muttered under their breaths in annoyance. It was a horrible time to be upsetting people—hungry and grumpy people.

So Sebastian dragged you away from the crowd. You were caught a little bit off guard at the sudden tug on your elbow. Your feet were almost stumbling around trying to catch up to Sebastian’s pace.

“Are you insane?” Was the first thing he said when you found a quiet little corner away from the bustling people.

Your stomach clenched. 

This was it. 

The memories you shared for the past two years dramatically flashed before your eyes— the adventures, the late night studies, the stupid unfunny jokes he made but you laughed at them anyway— fuck. 

This was it.. he hated you.

“Why would you tell Nurse Blainey the truth about everything?” He sounded quite aggravated. Unexpectedly, it was not for the reason you thought it would be— albeit he should be angry towards you for no reason at all considering the potion.

Your mouth gaped open but you were struggling to find the words. 

"You could've just said it was a bad batch for our assignment," He explained. "You didn't have to get detention for it."

“What?” You finally managed to sputter out.

“Blainey said she gave you detention.” He added, “I feel bad.”

You can’t feel bad for someone you hate unless they fall into lava and viciously die or something. Because to feel bad meant having empathy, and to feel empathy meant he cared, which meant he didn’t hate you and the potion never worked.

Right?

“So you don’t hate me?” You asked carefully.

His tensed brows gradually softened as realisation dawned on him. He was so focused on you that he never really thought of what the potion was supposed to make him feel.

“I don’t, actually.” He sounded relieved and as were you upon hearing his confirmation, “I guess the potion never worked after all.”

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. Though you started wondering if the potion didn’t work on Sebastian, it might’ve not worked on Leander either. Which meant you were back to square one, trying to figure out how to deal with his annoying arse. 

But it was a problem you didn’t want to think about too much at the moment. You were just glad your friendship with Sebastian remained intact despite the unfortunate mishap.

“So what did Blainey assign you to do?”

“She said Scribner has been fussing over some organising issues.” You grumbled, “She told me to give her some assistance after classes.”

“Yikes.” Sebastian said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You retorted, “Are you really feeling alright?”

“As normal as I can be.” He smiled reassuringly, “Though, you still haven’t told me why you were trying to repel Leander.”

“He just..” You hesitated for a moment,  annoys me.” 

Technically, you didn’t lie. Leander’s entire antics had been nothing but annoying to you. Sebastian only pursed his lips and nodded. Be that as it may, his eyes were looking at you rather dubiously. But he didn’t pry further.

–

After breakfast, you had some time to kill before class started. You found yourself seeking solace in the quiet lounge area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. With a book on Revulsaroma in hand, you sought answers in its pages that you might have missed. It explained further about its history and the past research on this potion. As you delved deeper, a particular section caught your eye that described a crucial detail—

The Revulsaroma potion's effectiveness in repelling a drinker is contingent upon the absence of strong positive emotions towards the potion-maker. If the drinker harbours genuine affection for the potion-maker, the potion's repelling properties may be nullified or significantly weakened. This phenomenon is attributed to the potent influence of positive emotions, which can act as a counterforce against the potion's intended repulsion.

Before you could dwell on it further, Leander plopped beside you out of nowhere and casually draped his arm around your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted you with a smile so charming if he wasn’t so pushy about it you could see yourself giving in to his cheesy escapades. You subtly shifted away from the sudden proximity, hoping he would take the hint some time.

“Good morning, Leander.” You replied politely.

He seemed to be undeterred by your subtle attempt because he leaned in closer, “So, I was thinking, with the weather getting nicer and all, let’s take a trip around the highlands.” He sounded so enthusiastic for a suggestion that’s so inappropriate, “We could explore the beautiful scenery. My family has this cosy little cottage just outside of Keenbridge that we can use. What do you think?”

You scrunched up your nose because it sounded bloody ridiculous, “A bit intimate, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of intimacy?”

“Nothing wrong with it, of course. If you’re a couple.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Leander’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, if anything he sounded even more excited. 

“It’s too much—”

He interrupted you with a tone so persuasive, “Okay fine, how about just a simple Hogsmeade date, then?”

You sighed at his persistence. It’s really getting too much. 

“Leander, it’s really sweet but—”

Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a looming shadow casted over the both of you. Glancing up, you saw Sebastian standing there with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“I’m going to count to three, Prewett, and you are going to stand up and get your arse the fuck out of here.”  He demanded.

“What are you going to do about it if I don’t?” He was annoyed  by Sebastian's sudden intervention.

The brunette’s gaze was focused on the way Leander had his arms wrapped around your shoulder and the way his hand was caressing your arm at the same time. Then he stared dead into Leander's eyes, “You don’t want to find out.”

Somehow you found yourself caught in the middle of the sudden hostility. 

“Sebastian.” You warned him softly.

“Ignore him.” Leander didn't care for the threat. But Sebastian wasn’t having it and when Leander was ready to ignore him and continue his conversation with you, Sebastian grabbed him by his collar that it forced Leander to stand up, and he dragged the red haired boy away and slammed his back into a nearby pillar.

“I told you to fucking stand up and get out of here.” Sebastian scowled.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.” Leander attempted to shrug off Sebastian’s grip but it only grew tighter.

“Then you better get yours away from her.” His voice was so low and menacing. You had no idea what possessed him, because as aggressive as Sebastian could get he wouldn’t be so quick to resort to anything so recklessly physical unless it’s necessary— at least not anymore.

“Are you both out of your minds?” You stood beside the conflicting boys, “Stop being children or you will get into trouble.” The confrontation was drawing more attention from onlookers, and you could sense the tension rising. 

A crowd started gathering around to see what the fuss was about. Students nearby paused and turned their heads, curious about the commotion. Whispers and side conversations began to buzz through the group as they watched the confrontation unfold.

You felt a bit awkward with the sudden attention. The whole thing was getting more dramatic than you'd anticipated, and you just wanted to find a way to sort it out before it got worse.

“What is your problem, Sallow?” 

“You are the problem, Prewett. Can’t you take the hint?”

“It’s none of your business.” The Gryffindor boy was defensive— as anyone would be if someone just randomly shoved you into the wall and told you what to do. 

“It becomes my business when you decide to harass her.”

“You are making a scene. Stop it.” You warned them, hoping they would steer away from the conflict. But they were still too busy with each other.

“Trying to be a big hero, aren’t you? Protecting her?” Leander was clearly taunting him. Sebastian wouldn’t usually allow himself to be bothered by whatever nonsense Leander would do. But this time was different,  “She doesn’t need you. She can make her own decision.”

“And she did, when she said no.” Sebastian retorted sharply, “So back off.”

“If you are so worried about me taking her out then you should’ve asked her first. Don’t come here and act all heroic because you missed your chance.” Leander fired back, “If you weren’t such a coward—-”

There went the last cell of Sebastian’s brain that allowed him to think rationally when he decided to punch Leander in the face, sending the red-haired boy stumbling and his nose bleeding. 

“Sebastian!” You stepped in between them, trying to push Sebastian back behind the line he just crossed. His eyes were glaring and breaths were rather ragged from the anger, “What the fuck are you doing?”

After being punched unexpectedly, Leander's pride and dignity were hurt. He wouldn't tolerate being attacked without retaliating. He mustered all of his anger and frustration to punch Sebastian with all of his force. 

But before he could, Sebastian struck again, landing a second punch on his face. Leander stumbled backwards again, but this time he was quicker to get back on his feet and lunged forward, swinging his fists wildly. 

Sebastian was able to dodge a few of his blows, but Leander managed to land a couple of powerful punches on Sebastian's cheek. 

Sebastian stepped back, his face red from pain and anger. Now the two of them had no choice but to fight, and you had no choice but to look for some help. Luckily, it wasn’t long for you to reach Professor Hecat, because when you returned to the brawl, Leander was already pinned to the floor with Sebastian on top of him, landing more punches.

Professor Hecat swiftly casted a spell that immediately shoved both of them away from each other. 

The two boys stood there with battered faces and were later sent to the same detention as you.

You had no desire in conversing with idiots, so when the three of you shared the space on one of the library aisle, organising books, you gave all your might to ignore them, especially Sebastian.

You thought he’d left his impetuous behaviour back in the catacombs two years ago, but clearly you were wrong. The way you aggressively shoved books into places allowed Sebastian to notice that you were furious.

“I know you’re angry at me.” He said, breaking the silence.

“Oh really? Didn’t think you’d notice. I was being subtle.” You replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what had gotten into me.” His voice was soft but outright, “You know I don't fight muggle-style.”

You remained cold. There was nothing about his apology that made you feel better. So you continued to ignore him and he tried to speak up again.

“Can we talk?” He pleaded but you ignored him. You picked up a stack of books and moved to the next aisle to shelve them in their proper places.

Sebastian followed you behind, not backing down, “I’m really, really, sorry.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic, but you were reluctant to give in. After all, his actions had caused this entire mess and resulted in the two boys getting detention.

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you couldn’t resist making a point.

“Tell that to Leander and his broken nose.”

Sebastian let out a scoff, “I’m not sorry about that.”

“Seriously Sebastian? You hit him first. He just reacted.” You turned to face him this time.

"He was harassing you," Sebastian defended himself, "I had to do something."

"Did you have to punch him in the face? Repeatedly?”

“Why are you defending him?” His tone was rising, "What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let him flirt with you?"

“What is so wrong with that?”

“Because—” Then he stopped himself. Eyes flustered and flicked between yours like he was trying to gather his own thoughts. Then he let out a frustrated sigh,  “Leander is a self-oriented, self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, insufferable jerk.”

You shook your head in disbelief and stared dead at him in the eye, “Well, right now it sounds like you were just describing yourself, Sebastian.”

Before you could say anything else, you left him alone in the aisle and this time he didn’t follow you.

—

It was Saturday morning, and while you had no classes to attend, you were still stuck with detention for a portion of the day. Not only did this eat into your weekend leisure time, but you also had to spend it without talking to Sebastian.

You sighed as you placed books somewhere in the corner of the library right where they belonged. 

Couldn’t help but think that spending your weekend somewhere in the castle, perhaps the undercroft, reading books and being alone together with Sebastian was where you belonged. 

Time sure felt lonely without his presence.

Then as if he could read your mind from miles away he showed up, “Do you like Leander?”

Shocked and confused by the sudden question you turned to find Sebastian standing at the end of the aisle.

His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a visible reminder of the fight he had gotten into with Leander. A purplish bruise marred his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow was still fresh. Despite his battered appearance, his eyes were focused intently on you, filled with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked.

“I spent the entire night thinking about you. I thought maybe you like Leander, because why did you defend him so much yesterday?” He rambled.

You opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“But then I thought, if you liked him, why did you want to repel him with the potion?” He continued, “And why did you reject him when he asked you out? Five times, over the past month.”

You opened your mouth again, but this time every single word you have learned seemed to have fallen over your head because not a single thing came to your mind.

There were two things that surprised you.

One, Sebastian spent the entire night thinking about you.

Two, Sebastian knew that Leander had been asking you out.

And your brain did not know which one to stress about first.

“You knew about Leander?” You finally said.

“We share every class everyday. You don’t think I’d notice?” He replied with another question, “He wasn’t subtle about it either. Was I not supposed to know?”

You fell quiet, unsure of what to say next. The more you opened your mouth, the more you found yourself with nothing to say. 

Sebastian waited for your response, but when it did not come, he continued, “Why did you keep rejecting him?”

You shrugged, slightly flustered, “Simply because I don’t want to go out with him.”

“Why did you not tell me about him, then?”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Sebastian stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe your answer.

“It was pointless,” Your tone was rising slightly, “It’s not like I would ever date Leander. I wasn’t even giving him a second thought. So It doesn’t matter.”

Sebastian was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “It matters to me.”

Your pulse raced, and the air suddenly felt tighter.

Sebastian was staring at you, his eyes intent and penetrating. The silence stretched on, and you had to force yourself to look him in the eye

“Everything about you matters to me. You’re my best friend. We’re supposed to share everything, right?” He added, “Isn’t that what best friends do?”

As you stood there, guilt was eating you inside out. Your decision to leave him in the dark unexpectedly hurt him more than you thought. The look in his eyes was so unfamiliar you couldn’t pinpoint his emotion.

He took a step closer.

“Why do you care so much? It’s just Leander.”

“Don’t you get it?” He said softly, “It’s not about Leander. It’s about the fact that he’s been asking you out, flirting with you relentlessly, being so close with you.. in a way that is supposed to be only for me.”

You stood there, stunned. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over you.

Sebastian took another step towards you, his gaze steady and unbreaking, and it was piercing through your soul.

“It’s supposed to be just for me” He repeated the phrase as if he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes was intense, and you could feel how important this was to him.

A moment passed until you realised that you should respond. The longer you stayed silent, the worse it felt. So you spoke up, “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He simply replied.

His response set your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“I was supposed to hate you, but instead I woke up that morning in the infirmary and I couldn’t be more sure that I am utterly and completely in love with you.” His voice dropped, “And when I saw you with Leander and hearing all the things that he said, I meant it when I told you I had no idea what had gotten into me but all I knew was every single cell in my body was on fire.”

You thought for sure your heart would explode as all of this sunk in. You had expected anything but a confession. Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you had to concentrate on breathing, or else it felt like you couldn't breathe.

“I spent the entire night thinking about all of the time we've spent.” He added, “I can't stop thinking about the sound of your laughter. The way you'd still genuinely laugh at the most unfunny joke I would tell. Or how your usual bright eyes would fall into a deep immersion when you read. And the way your delicate finger hovers over the edge of a page, turning it over.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Sebastian's lips as he recalled every little detail about you that only he would care about. The beat of your heart went faster with each syllable that came out of his mouth and every nerve in your body was shaking.

“I always wonder how the touch of those fingertips would feel on my skin,” There were so many things he wanted to say to you. Every detail of you that made him so desperately in love, “and how perfect your fingers would be intertwining with mine.”

For a moment, you were one-hundred percent sure this was all a dream. Because everything around you seemed so blurry and all of the sudden everything felt surreal. But when Sebastian took another step closer, and another until he was close enough to grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together, the haze dissipated. The way his touch alerted every single nerve in your body, you knew that this was real— he was real and he was in love with you.

The two of you stood there, inches apart, staring at each other with your emotions overflowing.

“We belong together.” You could see that his intensity and raw emotion was getting the better of him. His words were coming out quick and sudden, “I should’ve asked you out long before Leander did. Just another stupid mistake I made.”

He inched closer and closer until you felt Sebastian's breath on your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation. You took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the moment.

“You could’ve been too late, you know?” You whispered.

“Am I?”

You shook your head and smiled against his lips, “No, you’re not. I’ve been stupidly waiting for you.”

Sebastian's voice was soft and tender as he spoke again, “I’m glad we’re both stupid enough, then. And for many other things that make me glad you're finally mine."

“Even the potion?” You smirked.

“Especially the damn potion.” A smile spread across Sebastian's face.

Your breaths were laced with desire, and your thoughts went to the first kiss between the two of you were going to share. It felt surreal to have arrived at this moment that you had both anticipated for so long.

Your lips were close enough to touch. Your hearts were beating so loudly. And in this moment, it felt like a moment out of time.

When his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away and everything else faded into the background. It was everything it had built up to be—hot and passionate and exciting.

You kissed him deeply and all was right with the world. Sebastian's hands wrapped around your back, and yours around his neck. 

Your senses were all focused on Sebastian, on the kiss and the way he made you feel. This was what you had been waiting for, and it was everything you dreamed of and more.

When you pulled away, your eyes were locked and you found yourselves smiling uncontrollably. There was nothing left to feel awkward or unsure of, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

Sebastian brushed his fingers through your hair. You were finally getting your happiness.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

“I love you, too.” you replied softly, brushing your noses together.

You spent the rest of the day making out in the deepest corner of the library, neglecting your detention. And when Madam Scribner found the two of you some time later, all dishevelled, you were granted another detention time.

But neither of you cared. Because it was all worth it.

In an extremely rare case, the Revulsaroma potion could have an unprecedented effect, completely opposite to its intended repelling nature. Rather than nullifying or weakening, the potion might paradoxically amplify and reinforce any existing strong positive feelings that the drinker harboured towards the potion-maker. Due to genuine and deep-seated love for the maker, the drinker might experience a surge of intense emotions that can be both overwhelming and consuming, such as, jealousy, protectiveness, and overwhelming affection.

[alicerosejensen]

Together Forever Pt.1

Warning: Kidnapping, age difference, Leon!ID, affectionate nicknames, surveillance, forced cohabitation.

Synopsis: Working in D.S.O as an ordinary archivist did not promise to be too difficult. At least you didn't have to risk your life or supply the agents with information, you just took care of the valuable data received by the agents, putting everything in order. Everything would be fine… until someone decided that you needed protection from this fucking world full of zombies and other biological weapons.

Note: something like trial of the pen. I think there will be two or three parts, but this is the first time I'm writing something with a sequel (not counting those three texts about a Reader from college). I'm not sure it's going to be good, but I'll try. And yes, I don't approve of this shit in real life. Everything that is written here is strictly FICTION and you do not need to take it literally. If you have any triggers or dislike then skip it.

Part 2

Part 3

It was outrageously easy. Not that Leon thought that your forced "move" to him would be too difficult, but it was even easier than he imagined. His little archivist was still sleeping soundly in the backseat of his car under a strong dose of the drug so that you wouldn't resist when he drove you to his country house. It's okay, Leon just understands that you will need time to get used to your new good life, but he understood that it would be stressful. Therefore, your forced immersion in a sound sleep is just a precautionary measure so that you do not harm yourself by your own stupidity while he was putting you in an SUV. After all, you could have hit your head, cut yourself, or he could have accidentally bruised you when he stuffed you in, but he foresaw all this in advance and now his sweet girl is just sleeping while they go to the new house that Leon has already prepared.

But there will be no special consequences. Leon looks in the rearview mirror, which was specially lowered a little down so that he could observe your condition in case of anything, although there was no excitement. He just drove the car along an empty road, only occasionally there were cars driving straight back to the city. Outside there was only the forest and silence, but another hour of travel and he will settle you in a cozy warm house. A shared bedroom with warm blankets and soft pillows is already ready there. In the trunk he has three large boxes of boxes of your books that he collected in advance in the afternoon when you just left the apartment and some clothes for the first time, but Leon thought it needed to be washed, so it's okay that you sleep in his clothes…then he will buy you a lot of new things. In general, he will buy his baby whatever she wants…the thought made his lips lift in a slight smile.

He accurately calculated the dose of sleeping pills based on your weight, so the drug acted quickly but relatively safely. At least the feeling of nausea, dizziness and disorientation will haunt you for a while until the drug is removed from your body, but that's okay! Leon intended to look after you and take care of you until you finally come to your senses.

When the well-guarded and well-maintained with all the needs for housing finally appeared a few meters away, Leon turned off the engine as soon as he parked the car in the garage where, in addition to various tools with which he repaired his bike, there was also a collection of pistols. He opened the back door and carefully, like a porcelain vase, carefully carried it into the bedroom in his arms. Your head was leaning against his chest and while Leon was carrying you up the stairs, he could not resist the desire to kiss you at least on the forehead. Although it was uncomfortable, his lips touched only the top of your head, forcing you to squirm in his arms, causing an even bigger grin.

Leon opened the bedroom door, got to the bed in just a couple of steps, put you on the soft pillows and reached out to the bedside table, flicking his index finger on the small switch, turning on the lamp. A dim yellow light illuminated a small space, falling mostly on your placid sleeping face. Just like a real sleeping beauty… Leon stroked your cheek with his palm for some time, just admiring you and scrolling in his head how cruel this world is to such an innocent beauty. He saved Ashley, but for some reason she couldn't hook him like you, and Ada… well, it's interesting to solve this riddle woman for a while, but in the end the brain gets tired of the unsolvable task. He is a government agent and people with his profession value the usual stability more than anything else, for which they are ready to give all the money they earn. And you are his little archivist, who spent hours sitting in a dusty archive, sorting through folders with old reports and other documents. Even if you read something from this, you still don’t understand how dangerous it is outside, but he will protect you and you will love him. Necessarily.

However, now it was important for Leon to take care of his baby…

He wanted you to feel as little discomfort as possible after waking up, so getting up from the bed he found some old but clean things in the closet and going back to the bed began to change his little angel. Leon carefully unlaced and pulled your boots off your feet, placing them neatly next to you to put away later. Your jacket, skirt and even blouse followed by a bra. He could not help but hold an enthusiastic glance on your beautiful breasts, his palm gently slid over them, seeing how your nipples harden from the cold air soaring around the room and from this magnificent spectacle it became tight in his pants.

Your flawless appearance alone drove him crazy, causing an unbearable desire to undress himself and just lie down next to you, hugging, feeling your hands on his back. But he drove away the voluptuous obsession by taking his shirt in his hands, gently lifting your body to put your hands into the sleeves and fasten the top buttons, as if you were a doll that needed to be changed…who knows, maybe it will even become his favorite activity? In the end, somehow you got into the blood like smoke, penetrating deeper and deeper that it became impossible to get you out of his head.

Like a parasite, Las Plagas captured all thoughts without giving a single chance to escape, and if at first these feelings were frightening, then after watching you became an integral part of his life for six months. Leon convinced himself that he was taking care of you as he is now, laying you under a warm blanket with pillows so that you lay a little on your side if you suddenly start vomiting because of the drug and it's impossible not to touch your cheek with your lips at least once.

But you didn't wake up. And Leon still gave another kiss on the forehead, clasping your face with his hands, inhaling the fragrance of the desired body. His little songbird.

"You'll feel so good here with me. I promise."

He whispered and it was as if she heard something through a deep sleep, making him smile from the way your eyelids tremble in your sleep while he strokes you on the shoulder.

But while Leon left you to rest, going down to the first floor to unpack boxes of things and books that he took from your unsafe apartment. The door to the bedroom remained unlocked and even slightly ajar so that he could hear how you wake up.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Of course, Leon never had a plan to kidnap anyone, but after all the traumatic events, some paranoia and … the horror that Jason was talking about begins.

As soon as the president's plane disappeared into the sky, Patrick talked incessantly about a pretty young archivist girl to whom he constantly turns up during breaks to treat coffee or a sweet bun to relieve boredom, but Leon always listened with half an ear when circumstances did not force him to go down to the archive and meet you there.

"Can I help?" your voice rang out among these endless folders with documents and boxes on dusty shelves from which his nose itched all the time. Leon tried to determine your location, but perfectly developed reflexes did everything for him when he abruptly turned around seeing you behind his back in a cute skirt, white blouse and jacket. From here, the alarm quickly subsided when he realized that there was no danger.

Perhaps he stared at you a little longer than he should, looking at every small detail on your face, forcing you to sigh impatiently and repeat your question. The agents rarely went down themselves, but mostly they just sent the archive a request and a deadline by which to provide the necessary information, often in digital form.

It was the first red flag and the first wave of feelings that came to him when you first met.

"So?…" you wanted to repeat the question for the third time, but he still spoke.

"Yeah…I need a report. Spain 2004. Los Illuminados" Memories rolled over him like an unpleasant wave, but you just nodded your head as you walked past him, carefully picking up a bunch of boxes, maneuvering between them so perfectly.

Leon only needed this report because of another outbreak in Africa. Not to him, but to his colleagues, however, it was faster to go down himself than to send a stupid request that is still unknown when they will see and process.

"I'm sorry for the mess, we have a little rearrangement and cleaning at the same time. What kind of report is needed? I'll look at the database" you stared at him with such cute eyes that he smiled at you, however, after taking a step, he stumbled over one of these damn boxes, after which you immediately flew up to him grabbing his forearm to help him get up. Not that he needed help, but it was nice.

"Are you hurt?" you asked quickly, to which Leon chuckled merrily. "God, I'm sorry, the last archivist made such a terrible mess here and they made me clean everything up alone. Do you need a Band-Aid?"

"No. It's all right, really, but it's nice of you," Leon dusted off his hands and you stared at his palms as if checking whether he really hurt himself. "But it's better to clean up everything here. It will be sad if such a cutie falls just like me"

You smiled at his compliment, not offended like the others. It touched his heart pleasantly.

"So what kind of report exactly is needed? I'll file it in a week."

"The Kennedy Report. The original." Leon said quickly, carefully catching the information on your face, however…nothing. Perhaps you haven't even touched it yet and haven't even heard anything about those events. Patrick said that you are very young and have only recently come here, so it would not be surprising.

"Okay, it will definitely take some time, but everything will be ideally as it should be. Is it urgent?"

"You have all the time in the world"

He doesn't remember how long it took before you finally pulled out a dusty folder from some box with other reports and handed it to him personally. It's funny that even when you found out that he is the same Kennedy, you practically did not react at all.

You dusted it off and sneezed yourself, so Leon could only hope you didn't have asthma or something. But something else was important because since then you have not left his thoughts.

Patrick told him about your favorite coffee and buns... More precisely, Leon himself saw that he constantly brings you to the archive during lunch. This helped him bond with you, so he started bringing you lunch and even helping with those huge heavy boxes. It's almost indecent that you weren't even given an assistant to put everything in order. And then soft unobtrusive touches began. Passing a cup of coffee, he could accidentally touch your fingers; you let him hold you by the waist as you walked down the stairs. It was easy for Leon to help you, and he even liked that you were like a little doll in his strong arms. It seemed like one careless move and he would accidentally break you.

At some point he was suddenly afraid that you might fall and get hurt or accidentally spill coffee on yourself or one of the many boxes would easily fall on you. There were so many dangers lurking at every corner and he could not always be there to save you. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't not take care of you. Unfortunately, you absolutely lacked care for your personal belongings, but Leon hacked your phone only for security reasons. In principle, there was nothing terrible, except for those moments when some narrow-minded friends invite his dear angel to some noisy clubs or meetings late at night. It wasn't good!

And Leon was most angry when you came home late at night, not worrying about what kind of bastards might harm you. God, you literally put your own life at risk, so of course he had to protect his beloved in every way possible, even if it meant locking you at home.

It was easy to find out the address, insurance number and other documents. D.S.O carefully checks all the details of the new employees, but fortunately everything was in order. And it didn't take much effort for Leon to find all the necessary information, although it took a lot of time to prepare for your forced move to him. Leon has fully equipped his country house, protecting all the sharp corners so that you don't hit. It bought a lot of soft pillows and warm blankets just for you, terry towels, favorite cosmetic products for skin care...Yes, breaking into your apartment also turned out to be a trivial matter. The problem was only that Leon was worried that you might be bored, so after looking at a bookshelf full of various books, he decided that it was worth taking them all with him along with the things from the closet. Well, your game console, too.

the preparation took about three weeks, considering that he also had some working moments that he could not ignore in any way. After all, he should be able to provide you with complete material well-being, because Leon intended to take care of his cute doll with all the love he was capable of. The only catch is that, despite the fact that you liked him, you always kept him at arm's length, just like Patrick, promising yourself no novels in the workplace. Especially with agents who can hurt your heart and soul for fun. That's why you refused Leon even a simple dinner, but this refusal only made him feel touched by you, showing how innocent you are, convincing him that, of course, you should be under his protection.

You thought he was nice and circumspect, but you, but how could you know that he hooked up a tracking device to your phone to know where you are always? Leon was a professional agent of the president himself, but he always looked after you in the car while you were walking to your house after work.

And yet you didn't let him get close to you. Therefore, when Leon realized that it would not work out in a good way, he moved to radical measures by preparing a syringe.

One move and grabbing you with one hand, closing your mouth in a dark alley not far from your own house. Frightened, you put up minimal resistance trying to hit the attacker in the groin and run away as far as possible, since the shoes were comfortable enough, but it was still a lost cause in advance

"Stop messing around, it's for your own good, sweetheart"

The frightened brain tried to do at least something to try to escape and escape, but what are the chances against it? It seemed to you that a steel grip completely squeezed you into a vice, cutting off oxygen and slowly plunging you into a thick abyss from which it was impossible to escape despite all the pathetic attempts to bite or hit opponent.

Being scared, you didn't even know who the voice belonged to. But it was because of your ridiculous floundering in an attempt to escape that Leon stuck a syringe in you, after which all the muscles seemed to turn to stone.

"Shh, everything will be fine sweetie." Leon turned you around to face him when consciousness was already leaving. "So go to sleep and be the good girl you always were. And I'll take care of you..."

Someone else's lips gently touched your face, once he easily picked you up in his arms, quickly laying you on the back seat of the car.

Everything is fast perfect fast clean and no witnesses.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

While you were resting on the top floor, Leon set up cameras in the house so that you could monitor your actions while he was not at home. Actually, he was thinking about a comfort zone like the one in the last apartment - a small cozy hanging chair, a cute fluffy white rug and a small table lamp with a coffee table where you could put a mug with a hot drink while reading a book or watching TV. He even figured out in his mind exactly where in the house it would be best to arrange while taking the boxes out of the trunk into the living room. The luggage wasn't too big, Leon decided a long time ago that he had more than enough money to buy everything for you himself, but it should take a couple of days before the drug he injected into you finally gets out of your body, so your things will lie in the next room for a while, which a little later, maybe in a year or two will become a nursery.

Leon looked into the bedroom again when he put all the boxes together, but you continued to sleep in the same position in which he left you. Smiling, he had a desire to take a break and drink coffee. In complete silence, only grasshoppers were chirping outside and a strong wind was making noise, as if foreshadowing bad weather, everything was quiet when he sat down on the sofa holding the remote control. It took no more than a couple of hours before something fell with a crash upstairs, forcing Leon to quickly jump to his feet and instantly run down the stairs, opening the bedroom door and seeing you on the floor trying to get back on your feet.

Poor bunny, but Leon will take care of you...

I'm a little burned out for writing, despite the fact that I have a lot of requests that I still want to answer. It's just that my psychological state does not allow me to make beautiful and smart sentences even in my native language, so I don't even know if I will finish this nonsense with yandere Leon. Reviews are welcome at least because they cheer up the author by showing that you care.

Of course I will publish something from time to time, but it will probably be at a long interval.

[eris-snow]

heyy! I was wondering if you could write monoma x reader dating hcs/monoma pining (or any other ideas you have for him). Not sure if you even write for him (and if you don't please feel free to disregard this request!) Tysm if you *do* decide to write this and have a very wonderful day!!

Author’s note: Honestly, I don’t know how to write Monoma and he isn’t one of the characters under my radar, but I really wanted to try writing him, so thanks for sending in this request! (This was something I instinctively wanted to turn into a oneshot for some reason, so I enjoyed writing this request!)

----

Monoma doesn’t really know what he’s thinking when he fell for you.

He swears that he wouldn’t if he could, because dammit of course he has to choose someone insanely out of his league.

It’s not even your looks, it’s how you carry yourself.

Your mannerisms, your aura, all of that makes him gravitate to you so easily it scares him.

He’s so overwhelmed by your entire aura that his default words to you are all insults.

He’s a carbon copy of Bakugou, wrapped in a different outer package for purely the same reasons.

It had taken a long time for you to get into the status of ‘friends’ during third years, and Monoma will forever wonder just how he did it and why you took him in

He knows he’s an ass, he knows he’s insufferable, and he knows your friends hate him.

Shiny, attention-grabbing Class A, he secretly wishes to be one of them, one of you.

He’s working hard to strive for excellence, but every time he looks at you, you’re somehow already 12 steps ahead of him.

It’s what makes him hate you, but love you so much.

Like an onion, Monoma has layers upon layers of himself. Bit by bit, you end up peeling them and getting small glimpses of what he really thinks under the bravado and the slander.

You learn that when he’s crude, he’s twice as hard on himself. You learn that when he seems arrogant, he’s the biggest critic on himself.

You tell him that his Quirk is freakishly awesome, and validate his hard work.

He shakes his head, so you say it often, daily, frequently. Because then, you hope that he’d know that at least one person has seen his blood, sweat and tears shed.

Your relationship is an exploration. Everyone has a side that others don’t know about, and just as you discover his vulnerabilities, he discovers yours.

Your perceptiveness is sometimes a curse rather than a blessing, and your sensitivity often a poison rather than a tool.

Woven between your good traits are double-edge swords that paint you as more insecure of yourself than he thought.

You’re a human, not a character, he’d say. You might have flaws, but in his eyes, you’re perfectly imperfect.

Dating is a very natural shift. Good cop, bad cop. Angle, Devil. He knows what he plays.

But still, he doesn’t really think it’s so bad. After all, who cares what hordes of critics he doesn’t give two shits about says about him when you, the sole person who sees him as who he is still believes that he’s good?

Transparent, layers unveiled, in tears, with facades, splintered dreams, shattered hopes and ambitious, longing desires: You’ve seen it all.

He boos your class once more and sees you sigh, giving him a crooked smile—imperfect, but still beautiful—like he’s a children’s book with big, bold letters on every page.

Yeah, fuck everyone else. All he really needs is you.

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa

Ask in the comments to be added to the taglist

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

can we have more disowned!Jason pls??

Bruce was thankful for the drive. It gave him time to think. Mostly of things to say.

He'd sent a new washer and dryer, only to have them politely but firmly refused. Not by Jason, which he expected, but by you. You explained that it was appreciated but not necessary. And then before hanging up the phone, suggested that he donate the money to a support group for estranged parents. Electronics for the kids were similarly received- albeit less politely by Jason. Jason outright sent them back in pieces.

It was a risk, and he knew that. But by the time he pulled into town and was driving down tree-lined streets he was resolved. He had grandchildren now. He had a son who was happy. A Daughter in law... It was- well. Not a 'normal' family but, why did that matter?

There was a new baby on the way. Surely you had to need something to make it easier? College funds? Was the house paid for? He went through the options over and over. Considering the things he knew from the court documents. How you'd come to have your niece and nephew in your custody. The long sad story that got there.

You were steadfast and compassionate- that he knew. And proud. An offer that felt like charity would be rejected. Because you were doing it- or had been doing it on your own. Caring for your grandmother and then your mother. Fighting with the courts. Running a business. And raising two kids. You didn't want charity.

He pulled up on the curb and checked his watch, frowning. Both cars were still in the drive. Which was odd. Dick had told him you usually took the kids to school and opened the store.

He walked up the front steps and rang the bell. Greeted by the cacophony of dogs barking and Jason grumbling as he lumbered to the door.

Jason rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce at the door. "Not now-"

"I come in peace," Bruce said holding up his hands.

"Now's not a good time," Jason said, picking up the Yorkie before she could bolt out the door.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, heart dropping. Jason looked tense. Stressed. Upset. "Are the kids-"

"There was a break in at the hardware. Y/N was working late doing the books. Local scumbags busted in looking for tools they could sell. And copper. They didn't know she was there, so when she walked out to see what was happening, they panicked. Busted her in the face a couple times and someone kicked her stomach." Jason exhaled slowly. "Boris got to them and scared them off when he heard her struggling. And then. Fuck. As if it wasn't bad enough, his fucking heart just gave out and her dog died."

"Jason-"

"Now is really not a good time," Jason repeated, swallowing hard.

And all Bruce can do is hug him. Hard. Jason never did do well when women were in danger. When they were attacked like that. And now it was one of HIS women. His wife. The mother of his children. And she hadn't been able to call him for help. "Is... everything okay?" he asked, releasing him when Jason started to pull away.

"They kept her in the hospital for a couple days and they want to keep her on bed rest for a while. They were worried about her back and her ribs. And the stress of it all. But- mostly she just... she's worried about the baby. She's worried about the kids. And she misses Borris."

"A good boy-"

"Her best friend," Jason said, smiling a little. "And then he had to go and prove he really did love her more than me... grumpy old fucker."

"I know it's not a good time," Bruce said, not wanting to add more stress to his son. Or risk upsetting you and making it worse for you. "But if you need anything-"

"Just make sure those scumbags stay in jail," Jason said. "Because if I get my hands on them, I'll break their fucking necks."

"At least you aren't going to shoot-"

"Y/N makes me store my guns and my ammo in two separate places," he sighed. "And she moved it after Ty found it- now I don't know where it is."

[justaaveragereader]

Hihi!! First of all I love your writings and I've been meaning to ask for a long time teehee 🤭 It doesn't have to be long or a full fic but could I request a friends to lovers san smut where hes your best friend and gets jealous of you talking to this one guy constantly so one day while you're calling that guy he fucks you while youre on the phone 👀👀👀 sorry if its so specific djdjsjd thank you <33

Hello🖤! First off thank you for loving my work I love you. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I’m here now, and hopefully don’t disappoint! Friends to lovers?!? Ooooweeee this was my first time, and I wanted to make this shorter but once again I couldn’t help myself😵‍💫this was such an amazing request how could I have shortened it😭?! Also never apologize about being specific, I LOVE when requests are specific it gives me a clear direction to head in!

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sharing Isn’t Caring

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Dom!San, Sub!Reader, Oral (Lotssss Of Pussy Eating), Possessiveness, Jealousy, Humiliation, San Is Down Bad For The Reader, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Idk why you even talk to that guy, he's a complete tool.”

“If he’s a tool what does that make you Sannie?”

Cutting your eyes to your childhood best friend. Whose eyes you swore almost popped out of his skull. You guys were constantly together, both of your friend groups had joked that you were last lovers in each lifetime. You’d be lying if you said that you stopped looking at San as a “best friend” a while ago, but you didn’t want to tread that murky water.

“Wh-What does that make me?! It makes me a guy who's looking out for his bestfriends best interest! I don’t trust this guy, you saw how he looked at me last time I brought you lunch?!?”

Letting out a huff, you finish zipping up your backpack. Cramming as many books in there as you can fit because this “tool of a guy” San was having a heart attack about was your lab partner.

“San, you slammed the bag down on the table, startling the poor guy. Then you decided to enjoy the scenery.”

“It was a nice area, I was enjoying the environment!”

“Choi San, we were in the library! It was 1:00pm on a Tuesday, everyone was in class or at work. There was nothing to see. Not to mention you sat right in between me and him!”

Smacking his lips, he kicks his foot slightly, you can see his blush creeping upon his neck, his eyes shooting down to the floor muttering not so quietly how he was just enjoying the view, and how the middle seat had the best view.

“San there was no middle seat, you literally dragged a chair in between me and him, I watched you pick up his chair and move the man down the table.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walk up to San, putting your finger under his chin lifting his head so he locks eyes with you. He swore he could see his future play out in your eyes, maybe he was hallucinating, maybe he was a love struck idiot but he felt it, you were his person, you are his person.

“He’s just my lab partner, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

The redness from his neck traveled to his ears, lightly dusting his cheeks as well. He was so in love with you. Your face crinkled as you smiled at him, but the way you asserted yourself in one simple sentence just sent him over the edge. He could feel his heart pop like confetti, he also felt his cock come to life.

Squishing his cheeks in between your hands, flashing him a smile once more, turning on your heels towards his front door. You were big on being on time, entertaining Sans shenanigans you were always late. His body moves like it’s on autopilot, walking quickly towards your fleeing figure. Just as you open the door his hand comes up to close it. You can feel his heavy breath on the back of your head.

“San what are you doing?” You whine out, turning around to poke his chest. As your eyes shoot to him you see that look in his eyes, that look he’s given you many times. The same look he gives when you talk to a man too long for his liking.

“I really don’t want you han-.”

“Hold that thought, San!” Picking up your phone, you slide your thumb across the screen. His body puffs up, in an aggressive like manner, this lab partner was crossing too many boundaries with his person. It's almost like he’s underwater, seeing you smile, seeing you laugh at another man that isn’t him. You look at him with a face of confusion, eyebrows drawn up.

Biting his lip, you watch as his eyes darken. He’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen. The light that’s behind them dies, and fills with hunger, with ache, with possession. His hand comes to grip your hip, shoving you against the door. His body towers over yours, his chest crushes against yours. Putting the phone to the side, he can hear your lab partner continuing to talk. The chipper tone in his voice pisses him off even further.

“What are you doing?” You whisper/whimper, his knee coming up into between your thighs resting against your clothed cunt. You choke up at his sudden actions, everything feels like it’s happening so fast. His predatory gaze knocks the wind out of you.

“I’m not really too big on sharing, especially when it comes to you.” He whispers quietly into your ear, his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. His cologne clouds your senses. Your cunt clenches around nothing, you have never wanted San more than you want him now.

“Y/n Y/n! Did you hear me?” Your lab partner's voice knocks some sense back into you. It feels like your tongue is knotted in your mouth, you feel his fingertips start to brush against your lower stomach, exploring the soft like skin.

“Well aren’t you going to answer him baby.” He whispers into your ear once more, giving your love a soft kiss. His smooth, cool lips on your heated skin is enough to have you driving yourself up the wall. You let out a quiet whimper, your hand dripping, practically letting the phone slip through your hands but San is quick enough to grip your wrist, making sure you don’t drop your phone.

“I’m-I’m he-RE!” You shout at the last part feeling San hike your body up even extra on his knee. Your clit rubbing against the fabric of your pants.

“Are you alright?” Your lab partner says through a laugh, continuing on about your guys' shared project. Sans kisses slowly turn into soft love bites, nipping at your skin leaving small welts behind. He was going to show everyone you were his. He was tired of this song and dance. He was going to take you, all of you.

Undoing the button on your pants, your eyes watch his every move, while he watches every move of yours. His glance is nothing short of wolfish, while your glance is nothing short of prey like.

“I’m going to take what’s mine, do you understand me?” You grunts into your ear. Rutting his hips against yours, you can feel the pulsation from his cock, mouth instantaneously starts to water. He was so much bigger than you imagined. Those late mates staying awake, riding your fingers to completion, curious as to how San would pleasure you, how he would fill you. Nodding your head thoughtlessly your eyes drop down to where his bulge is. Letting out a pathetic whimper you go to grab his hard on that’s straining against his sweats.

Your hand grips your phone muttering “mhms” and fake laughs to let your lab partner know you are still present, which irks San even more. Your attention is supposed to be on him fully.

Hiking your pants down to your ankles he helps you step out of them, kneeling down to help you, when he looks up, catching an eye full of your soaked panties practically calling his name. Your eyes flutter at the way he hawks down your clothed cunt.

Two fingers come up to grab the fabric, pulling it down slowly, as your cunt comes into sight he lets out a groan, not even hesitating he dives face first into your cunt. Causing you to let out a startled moan. His tongue instantly wraps around your clit giving it a good couple sucks before his hands travel up the back of your thighs, hiking one of over his shoulder, while both of his hands come to the back of both thighs prying them open even further to get more of his face into your cunt. He’s practically making out with your pussy, the wet slurping noises of him sucking down your clit, while his hands jiggle your thighs, giving them a light smack, causing your body to jerk in his hold.

His tongue explores more of you, moving down to your sopping hole, as soon as he sticks his tongue in your pussy let’s put a squelching noise. Which sounds like music to Sans ears. As he tongue dives further into you, his nose bumps against your clit. Your body almost caves over from the stimulation. His hand shoots up to your figure pushing you up right against the door. Surely all his neighbors heard what he was doing to you, surely your lab partner knew by now what was happening to you. Thrashing his head around so your clit gets bumped back and forth you drop your phone on the ground, San can hear your lab partners calls to you, asking if you are okay, yet you are so high on San the only thing you can make out is the way he’s feasting on your cunt. Sticking his tongue out, he rubs it all over your cunt making sure not to miss a spot, your cries fill the room.

“This pussy is so good, you've been giving my pussy away, huh? Answer me princess.” He groans, while continuing to slurp up your cunt.

“N-no! No!” You whimper out, back arching off of the front door.

Smacking the back of your thigh, he jiggles the meat of them once more, pulling his face back. Chest heaving up and down, he looks up at you, that playful glint in his eyes. He places a kiss right above your cunt, leading all the way up to your belly button. Small welts are left along the way. Spreading your thighs once more so there is a huge gap.

“You've been giving this pussy, my pussy to your lab partner?”

His face dives in the gap between your legs, letting the back of your thighs go so his face is fully engulfed in between you. Your cries ring out even louder in the room.

“No! I would never!” You cry out, you keep chanting to San how it’s his, and only his. Those words alone fuel his need for possession. Stretching his arm he picks up your dropped phone, noticing the call is still active, rolling his eyes at this guys pathetic ass. He shoves the phone towards you. Pulling his face from in between thighs. Your arousal is just dripping off his face, slapping against the floorboards beneath his kneeling figure.

“Tell him.” He says licking his lips, making sure to not let any of your juices go to waste. Grabbing the phone with shaky hands. Your body floods with embarrassment, yet the way San sees your pussy flutter around nothing he knows you're just as turned on as he is.

“Tell him who you belong to.”

Clearing your throat, your body heats with embarrassment. Your eyes never leave Sans watching as he gets a mouthful of cunt again. Making you stutter in your greeting to your lab partner.

“H-Hi.”

He slaps the back of your thighs harshly, sure to leave a small mark. Your eyes focus into San more who has his eyes closed while he tongues you up and down. He truly looks like he’s making out with someone, his eyes shut in pure bliss while his body is relaxed, hands roaming all over you.

“I belong to Choi San.” You quickly squeak out, not wanting this conversation with your lab partner to go on any further. Signifying that this partnership would not travel further than on school grounds.

“Tell him what I’m doing to you too.” He groans from your pussy, the bass of his voice vibrating all over making your toes curl. Letting out a whine you look at San silently pleading to hang up on your lab partner.

“Hes….hes eating my pussy…and he’s eating it real good” voice practically breathless.

“Now tell him you guys will not be friends. So he can get that out of his head.”

“We..we won’t be friends…” you say through a whimper, your dignity and pride was in hell right now.

“Lemme see the phone.” Shoving the phone to San you lay your head back against the door, his fingers coming up to rub small, slow circles around your pulsating clit.”

“You should see how I’m devouring her pretty pussy. It’s such a sight, she’s responsive too. One small flick to her clit and her eyes swell with tears. Probably wish this was you huh? Knuckle deep in her pussy, tongue fucking her, watching her come undone in your mouth.”

San hears shuffling on the other side of the phone, he knows your lab partner is still there.

“I know all about you, and the thing is I really don’t like sharing. Especially when it comes to her. So I think you should find a new partner, because if I catch you staring at my girl again. I’m going to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her til she can’t even recognize you anymore.”

“I’ll fuck her so long and good, only thing she will be able to mutter is my name. So ima ask you do we have a clear understanding?

The lab partner hesitates to answer, both out of fear and horniness. How could he not be turned on by what he just heard, but he’s heard the stories about Choi San, and he’s not someone who you wanna cross.

Letting out a pathetic yes, he hurries and hangs up the phone. A cheshire cat-like smile crosses his face, pulling his fingers out of you, he stares up at your figure. Eyes shooting down to meet his own.

“No where was I?” He asks rhetorically before spreading your thighs once more.

DO NOT REPOST.

[lilacliquors]

I don't think I've ever been so affected by the word titties before. omg your last headcanon for Homelander KILLED ME. can i ask you to write something about him sucking titties? it could be that something didn't go right with his day and he JUST desperately needs your tits when he gets home. plus if lactating kink but not necessarily, JUST TITTIES 😩😩🥵

titties is a great word, isn't it? makes me laugh but also like i'd be lying if i said i didn't enjoy phrases like 'such perfect tits'

you heard him before you saw him. the soft whoosh in the air as he landed on your apartment balcony made you smile, but when he entered your bedroom, and you saw his face, your brows pinched together.

he had the saddest eyes you'd ever seen. he looked small, dejected, like his soul had been crushed, and it made your heart ache. you tucked your bookmark into place and shut your book before opening your arms for him.

he moved closer without a word, nearly collapsing on top of you and letting his shoulders slouch. he exhaled and let his eyes flutter shut as you began to stroke his hair, letting out a quiet groan.

"long day?" you asked quietly.

"mhm. i work with the most useless motherfuckers on the planet," he grumbled. "fastest man alive can't run a straight fucking line. keeps getting us into shit. and don't get me started on the dolphin fucker."

"you're doing the best you can with the tools you have," you reassured him, your fingernails gently scratching over his scalp. he hummed and pulled his gloves off so he could be that much closer to you.

"i would do a better job by myself," he mumbled. "who needs those fucking pathetic losers?"

"not my john, that's for sure. but ... i can think of something that might make you feel a little better."

he slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at you. his breath caught in his throat as he watch you unbutton your silk pajama top, the ones he bought for you ages ago. his gaze was hungry as you pushed the fabric aside to reveal your bare chest, the cool air making your nipple harden. his eyes traveled up to meet yours, and you smiled before you gave a single nod.

he adjusted his position so he could lay comfortably across your bed, his head propped up on you, and he took your exposed nipple into his mouth. you exhaled slowly as you felt him trace his tongue over your sensitive skin. you stroked his hair as he began to suck gently, and he brought one hand up to caress and massage your other breast.

he hummed quietly, eyes slowly shutting as he relaxed, and you tilted your head back as well. you knew he appreciated the gesture, it was clear in the way he suckled and his hand massaged.

maybe you both needed this after all.

[secretlypeerless-cucumber]

Chapter II

First

"What are you talking about." Shen Jiu hisses. He does not have the time nor the willingness to entertain this clearly delusional man more than he already has. Honestly, he probably shouldn't have freed his mouth if this is what's coming out of it.

"Gege, I know it's been like 20 years or something, but you couldn't have forgoten about me, could you? This breaks Didi's poor heart." Says the other, batting his eyelashes like a little mistress asking daddy for a new dress and it's making him sick. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

"You don't even know my name and this one doesn't have any siblings, so shut up. I'll fucking leave you here if you say another stupid thing." Shen Jiu walks to the corpse of the fat man with a grimace. He would prefer to not do this but the prospect of ruining a noble's day by liberating "the merchandise" is too sweet to pass after all.

Taking the sleeve with just two fingers, Shen Jiu brings it up enough to search inside, dropping on the ground the knickknacks the man inexplicably had inside. Well, the money he keeps. Shizun is too cheap with her disciples and inns are disgusting while brothels are expensive. He'll need a good night's sleep after this and his prey will be funding it.

"We didn't actually had names." With the keys in hand, Shen Jiu walks to the largest cage he can see and passes them to the frightened woman inside. Only when she understands what to do and gets to work opening all the cages on sight does he turn around to the nuisance still tied up and sitting on the dirty ground. "What?"

"When we lived with mother; we didn't have names. That man-" He said it with so much venom that Shen Jiu could -for a single moment- believe they were siblings after all. "-never let her name us. He was planning on selling us from before we were even born so she 'shouldn't get attached'. She fought him, naturally, but Mother only could do so much... He took you first, I was too sick to be sold just yet."

Shen Jiu is marginally grateful the other slaves ran as soon as they were freed from the cages because he doesn't need reports of what he'll do to this bastard to reach Shizun. A murder outside of the permitted by the mission will look so bad on his already muddy reputation. "Good story, you should write a book." He deadpans.

"It's the truth!" The guy pouts, as if that helps his case at all and doesn't just make him look crazier. "Gege could easily prove we are related with a talisman, couldn't you? I know fancy cultivators have that type of tools just lying around!"

"You want me to believe you remember bullcrap from when 'we' were, what, 4 years old?" Shen Jiu said mockingly.

"Gege isn't even denying he was a slave like me" A curious head tilt and Shen Jiu suddenly feels like he's missing something, again. He hates that feeling. "He knows deep down that this Didi is saying something important." That knowing look is pissing him off, but he can't deny felling the littlest bit curious. The guy stole his face, that's undeniable. And a sibling relationship could very well explain it.

But is he ready for the implications? Is he ready to have a family, a fucked up one he is sure, but, family?

Qi-ge Yue Qi used to call them brothers, but that didn't stop him at the moment of betraying him for a better life. Is this guy actually interested in Shen Jiu or is this his ploy to be freed? He already saw Shen Jiu give the keys to the others, surely there's no need for him to still be talking to Shen Jiu at all?

Shen Jiu could always just make the test and drop this guy on the streets if it came out negative and... And if it's positive that'll mean there's someone in this world who is his.

There's no way to change one's blood. He knows that very well. His blood may very well be running in this guys veins. An undeniable bond to someone, something unbreakable. This could mean he has a brother, maybe even a mother that... Loved him.

A mother. One that loved this wretched creature. Proof that he didn't came out wrong, twisted.

Is Shen Jiu being too naive? The simple promise of a past loved one has him doubting the most basic instinct of caring for no one but himself. Hope is an ugly thing he thought dead and buried years ago under charred wood and ash.

Shen Jiu returned his gaze to the young man, serious and grave. He can't believe he is doing something so stupid but one thing is true in all street children: If you can take something, do it. And never give anything back. "You will follow me and not say a single word to anyone. Understood? I will have to ask someone back at the sect for a blood testing tool." This guy wants to be his brother? Fine. Let him cope with his horrible personality. Shen Jiu is never diminishing himself for the comfort of others. Never again.

A sly smile is his answer, and he can't quite help the feeling he just got played. "This Didi will do as Gege says..."

Prev - Next

Beta by: @sillygoofyqueer

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 8

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, grief

Series Masterlist

a/n: Thank you endlessly to @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @write-and-buried for their advice and reassurance on this one. ❤

--

The first time it happened, it was by accident. 

Loath to leave your warmth; one hand fisted in the hair at the nape of your neck, the other one curled around your hip to guide your movements in your straddle on his lap. The afternoon sun spilled in through the windows, dust motes floating through the shafts of light as you rode him and when you came, you tipped your head back with a strained, breathless moan. 

His eyes fixated on the image of your angelically erotic pose, he emptied himself inside you, filling you up until there was nothing left to give. 

The next time was an accident too. 

Finally ready to harvest some of the vegetables you’d been nurturing for months, you grasped the first stalk and pulled, brushing off the dirt delicately when it came free from the ground. You handed it to him, unadulterated pride shown clear on his face and his smile beamed so big you caught a glimpse of his rarely seen dimple. 

Tears had already begun to water your vision, slipping free when you saw his smile and he stood to pull you up so he could wrap his arms around you in a tight, unrelenting hug. His thumbs and his mouth brushed away the hot trails on your cheeks and you feasted that night, both on your new found riches and each other.

Bellies full of fresh produce and celebrating your hard earned success, he fucked you on the living room floor, with your mouth open and pleading for him as your tailbone rubbed against the carpet with every thrust. His need more intense than usual, his groan was hoarse when he came faster than he could pull out; his eyesight fading black around the edges with a spill as endless as the praise he panted into your ear. 

When he was done he stayed put, a comforting, solid weight on top of you and his lips peppered kisses along your hairline, the bridge of your nose, the corner of your mouth - everywhere he could reach. 

The third time however, wasn’t.

The days too hot to do anything but swim, you hung onto his shoulders and pressed your soft lips against his own until he all but dragged you up to the bank of the river, covering you with his chilled, damp body. You begged him for it then, begged him to fill you up as you sobbed with fullness, your knees hitched high along his ribs. Your hands grasped the swell of his ass to push him in deeper, his own knees streaked in dirt after he gave you what you wanted and his spend was slick and hot where it leaked out, smearing on his stomach when you wound your legs around him to pull him down for a kiss. 

You each knew the consequences of what you were doing. Neither of you acknowledged it though - you kept going because it felt good and right and with so little in the world that felt like that, you took what you could. 

Summer months slipped by as you slowly explored the woods around you, checking the other cabins one by one. Untouched for years, they held caches of canned food and clothes, outdated sunscreen and furniture thick with dust. Moth bitten beach towels, an indoor herb garden turned greenhouse that had consumed half a kitchen. Rotted curtains, limp baseball hats, forgotten gardening gloves. A deflated inner tube that you brought back and filled up manually just to spend the day floating on the water. 

One held a stash of wine that was so vast it took three trips to haul all of the bottles back to your own cabin, and though you knew absolutely nothing about wine, you couldn’t stop the excited yelp that escaped from your mouth when you found it. 

Scavengers, you ignored the pictures on the walls as you raided room by room, taking whatever you liked. Making it through seven cabins in total, you covered miles of woods; your book collection doubled, every shed picked apart for useful tools and supplies. 

Careful not to uncover the cabins more than you needed lest the structures be seen by anyone else, so far, you hadn’t had to worry about that. Joel still kept the traps up and running, still checked them every single day and locked up every night, but the immediate threat of another human being was starting to feel like a distant memory. As if time had paused when you found this cabin, the outside world disappearing when you first stepped off the path. 

The weeks went by quickly in a hot, humid daze and every night ended the same: with you curled up next to him, your bodies sweating on top of the sheets. 

–

You’d kill for a fan. 

Not even asking for air conditioning because to be honest, you were never really a fan of artificially cooled air (too cold), you want a fan desperately. Just something to move the stagnant air around, to relieve the thick, damp press of humidity that coats your skin. It envelopes you, your shirt stuck to the small of your back and you pick at it, giving it a quick shake in an attempt to dry it out. 

Joel is just as sweaty – his cotton shirt clinging to his back, dark with sweat along his spine and under his arms and you watch as the fabric molds and shifts over his muscles as he strong-arms the cabin door open. Stepping through into the shadows, his hand is bathed in light as it reaches back for you and pulls you into the dark depths, your flashlight ready. 

“At least it’s a little less hot in here, I guess.” You kick a stack of faded, dust coated magazines on the floor and he sighs, setting his pack down. 

“Yea,” he agrees, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow. “I’m gonna live in the water when we get back. Sleep outside, half submerged.”

“Ooh, can I join you?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows and he huffs a quiet laugh behind you as you make your way into the kitchen. 

The first place you check in every cabin, you pick apart the cabinets looking for food while he combs through the bathroom looking for first aid supplies and medicine. All finds to be stacked on the floor in the living room, the two of you make quick work of it, too hot to linger. 

Rummaging through the dresser in the main bedroom, you check the sizes of socks and underwear – something you’re always in short supply of – and when you find a silky scrap of fabric buried beneath them, you pause. A more delicate piece of clothing than you’ve seen in a long time, your roughened hands caress the slippery negligee when you lift it from the drawer. The fabric catches on the pads of your fingers, the sensation making you frown and hesitating just for a moment while looking in the direction of the door, you fold it gently and put it directly in your bag, tucking it away.

He calls out to you when he’s done, and after dividing up the pile, your packs are substantially heavier when you start your walk back. 

Leaning forward slightly under the weight, you feel sweat glide down the line of your neck and you wipe it away, grimacing. 

“Do you ever think about what people would find if they raided your house?” you ask. 

Every single time you enter a cabin, you think about it. You can’t remember what state you even left your place in: not your original one, nor your apartment in the QZ. You assume they have given the latter away to another person who needs it; the thought not bothering you at all. 

He huffs, shaking his head. “A messy house, I guess.” 

“Same,” you reply. 

The moss below your feet muffling your steps, you each sit in your own head for a moment before you continue. 

“Have you ever thought about going back? You know, to like, get stuff? Or to just…see it?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, it would be nice to have some pictures I guess, but other than that…I don’t think I would want to.”

“So you’ve never tried it?” you ask, looking over at him.

“No,” he replies, his eyebrows raising. “Have you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t really have anything there.” Your thumbs hook in the straps of your backpack, your eyes staying down. “I feel like it would be too sad, you know? Like, in my mind, I feel like I would want to stay, thinking of it as my home and a place I would be safe, but I know that’s not true anymore. It would be…depressing.”

He nods, understanding. 

“Besides, I used to want to go back a lot more, but now I kinda…think of this as my new home. Everything I want is here.”

The confession slips out, the heat of the late afternoon muddling your thoughts and making you too tired to stop the words before you say them and as soon as you realize, you try to hide the vulnerability showing clear on your face by gesturing to the woods. 

It’s quiet for a moment, and you sneak a look over at him to find him looking back at you. Sunlight plays across his features, catching on the ends of his dark curls lifted in the humidity and the corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Yea,” he agrees. “Me too.”

Reaching for your hand to squeeze it, your palm sticks to his, tacky with sweat, but he still holds tight when you lace your fingers together. 

–

“Do you ever think about what people would find if they raided your house?”

His answer sounded indifferent at the time, but the thought bothered him more than he let on. It’s not so much the idea of his stuff being taken or rifled through because to be honest, he can’t even really remember what all was there. 

It’s the space being invaded by a stranger. Sarah’s room, in particular.

Someone rifling through her drawers, or sitting down on her bed. Someone taking the things he gave her - the idea of it constricts his chest, and he frowns, methodically checking the traps one at a time, wanting to get it over with before going for a swim. 

His dark curls stick to his forehead, his fingers pushing wearily through them with a scratch as he walks the perimeter of the cabin and her bedroom floats into his mind: the purple bedspread, the butterflies on the walls. The faded image is hazy around the edges and he’s not even sure he has it right, but the ache he feels is reminiscent of the one he felt briefly when you walked into the cabin the other day excited to show him something you pulled from the garden. 

Your smile and enthusiasm reminds him so much of her sometimes it hurts. 

The longer he stays here with you, the more it eats at him that he hasn’t told you about her yet. Never anything he wanted to share with anyone, he finds there is little that he doesn’t want to share with you now – save for this. 

Of this, he hasn’t spoken about in ten years. 

Of this, he still feels the weight of failure etched into his very bones. 

Of this, it still threatens to drown him some days in grief, if not for the way he’s buried it all down deep. 

Allowing himself to feel with you and slowly uncovering the pieces of himself that he had long since given up on, the burden of her memory weighs heavier on him every day that he’s here. It feels wrong that he hasn’t told you about her, as both a betrayal of her memory, but also of your trust. 

He tugs on a trap, making sure the ropes are snug in place and still thinking about you, his long buried grief and anger at someone rifling through Sarah’s room transfers to you and your things. The bookshelf next to your bed crammed with dog eared books, the plants along the windowsill in the kitchen, the stack of ten year old gossip magazines that you keep next to the couch for when you want to laugh at the trivial matters people used to care so much about. 

Your worn, cotton bedsheets decorated with delicate rosebuds. 

He wonders if your home looked anything like the spaces you’ve set up in the cabin. A cozy warmth radiating from your scattered belongings, some people might be bothered by them but he likes it. Similar to his own house once upon a time, it makes the space feel lived in; warm, inviting. 

The idea of someone finding this place and entering it, going through your things to take what they want – he knows it’s hypocritical to be upset about it, but a wave of rage pierces through his thoughts and he kneels, ignoring the call of the water to double check the trap in front of him. 

He clenches his jaw; Sarah’s bedspread and your plants lingering in his mind. 

–

“You okay?” you ask later that night, after glancing at his far away expression for the hundredth time. He’s been quiet since he got back, near silent during dinner and you can see the churning waters of his mind under the surface of his eyes. 

“Yea, I’m fine.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead, and leaves it at that. 

He still seems distracted when he comes to bed, grabbing his book from the nightstand to sit propped against the headboard to read, and when you put your own book down and roll onto your side to close your eyes, he reaches to turn out the light and follows suit. He’s still for a while and then scoots closer, the warmth of his body felt from behind you as the bed dips slightly. His touch trails along the curve of your shoulder, following the length of your arm. There is no intention to it, nothing he’s initiating. A soothing, yet restless drag of his fingers along your skin and he’s wide awake, you can tell from the thrum of energy between your bodies in the dark. 

You open your eyes, rolling to face him and reaching to touch the curve of his cheek. 

“You okay?”

He takes in your face for a moment, his dark eyes drifting over your features. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me earlier. About going back to see my old place.”

You shift, bending your arm to tuck it under your pillow. “You change your mind? You want to?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to go back because…” he stalls, letting out a breath. His jaw shifts subtly, and you wait, watching his face. 

“I had a daughter.”

The statement hangs suspended between the two of you, and not wanting to speak until you know for sure that he’s done, you stay silent.

“Her name was Sarah.” He frowns slightly when he says it out loud, like he’s in pain and his hand slips off your arm and down to rest in front of him on the bed. You follow it, placing your hand over his. “That’s who I would want a picture of.” 

“You don’t have any?”

He shakes his head slowly, his gaze unfocused. He smiles ruefully in the dark. “There was this one she kept in her room - I can still see it. The two of us, my hand over her eyes just jokin’ around and the smile on her face is –' His voice falters for a moment, and he stops, clearing his throat. The sheen of his wet eyes glimmers in the darkness. “She had a killer smile. You would’ve loved it.”

“I bet I would have,” you reply softly. 

His expression darkens, and your thumb sweeps across his skin. “I don’t think I could handle seeing her room, ya know?” 

His eyes meet yours, open and honest. “That thing you were saying earlier, about people going through your house? I know they’ve probably done it to mine and I don’t – I don’t think I could take seeing her stuff like that. Scattered, or destroyed. Rotted.”

A tear slips free, sliding through the creases lining the outside of his eye. “I wanna preserve the memory of her in that room. Sitting on her bed, listening to music or doing her homework…I don’t wanna see it empty.���

The sight of him crying makes your own vision blur, and you squeeze your hand in reassurance. 

“Of course,” you whisper. “God, of course you wouldn’t want to see that. I am so sorry I brought that up, Joel. I had no idea.”

“I don’t talk about her, so you wouldn’t know.” 

His words are quiet, yet definitive and ridden with guilt and he clears his throat, letting out a deep, shaky breath. You stroke his temple with your thumb, and he lets his eyes close, focusing on your touch. 

“How old was she, when she…” you don’t say the word, and he takes another breath, answering you.

“Fourteen.”

“How —,” you start, and then you stop yourself, giving him time to answer if he wants. He seems like he wants to, seems still agitated like there is something held inside that needs to come out and you wait, giving him time. 

“She died…the day of the outbreak. I tried to get her from the house when everything went to shit and she — she got hurt. I was carryin’ her, because she couldn’t walk and then…the soldiers that were going around in all the cities? I begged ‘em not to do it, but they shot anyway and I couldn’t –”

Another tear slips free, darkening his pillow case and he closes his eyes for a moment with a frown before opening them again. “I couldn’t do anything. Nothin’ but hold her and beg my brother to help me.” 

Realization hits you, your chest flooding with sorrow. “That’s the dream, isn’t it? When you call for Tommy.”

He nods, and you immediately reach for him, gathering him in your arms. 

He comes willingly, seeking out your embrace and the collar of your sleep shirt dampens against your skin as you stroke the crown of his hair. He’s a near silent crier, deep breaths taken in the crook of your neck as his wet eyelashes brush over your skin and he lets everything run out; his hands clutching you tightly. His arms tightening around you, you lay there and soothe him, saying nothing while your mind processes what he told you. 

You can’t imagine that type of pain. 

Not only to not only lose a child, but in that way. No wonder he was so closed off. 

The thing he loved the most - a kind of love you can’t even comprehend - violently taken from him the day the world ended and the path of the Joel Miller that came after sharpens, growing clearer in your mind. A brutal shell of a person, hardened by everything that’s happened. 

You’re still thinking about it when he lifts his head, apologizing for getting your shirt wet. 

“Hey,” you softly reprimand him, “don’t. You don’t — “ you start, and then his own words come to you. “You don’t gotta be tough here with me. I got you.”

He lifts the corner of his mouth at your impersonation of him, and you give him your own matching, small smile. 

“I mean it.” Your face slips into something more solemn, and you cup his whiskered cheek in your hand. He chases the warmth of it, leaning into your touch. “Listen to me. You didn’t do nothing, okay?”

He meets your gaze with an intensity of his own, and you keep going. 

“You said you didn’t do anything, and that’s not true, Joel. It’s not true.” He waits, and you continue in a hush. “You held her.”

His face softens, and another tear glides down his cheek. 

“You carried her and held her and even though you were scared — I can’t imagine how scared you were — you tried to protect her and then you held her. You couldn’t stop what happened and it’s not your fault, Joel. You did the best you could do.”

“It wasn’t good enough.”

Your own tears well up and slide free, your hand making sure his attention is on you. 

“It was, baby. It was.”

The endearment slips from your lips and he doesn’t question it, instead just looking at you for a moment before pushing forward to seek out your mouth with his own. You help him, pulling him in for a kiss as his plush, soft lips fit with yours, his mouth damp from his tears yet hungry for your taste and comfort.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tilting your mouth to deepen the kiss. “Tell me how to help.” Another kiss, another. “You want this? Want me?”

He nods, his nose brushing against yours and kisses you again, shifting to lay the weight of his body on top of yours. You make room for him between your thighs, your hands running down his back and the smooth, strong lines of it flex under your touch, a groan rumbling through his chest when you drag your nails lightly over his skin. 

“You’re so sweet. You taste so good,” he breathes into you between kisses, his hand reaching down to tug at the waist of your sleep shorts and you help him, pushing them down and off. Reaching between your bodies and slipping your hand under the band of his briefs, you find the hardening, warm heft of him and give him a firm couple of strokes. His hips chase your fist as he thickens in your palm and he rocks himself against you a couple times before lifting his own hips to shove them down. 

Unburdened, he gets hungrier, his hands helping yours as you tug at his shirt and then your own, the threadbare material of both tossed onto the floor. You want to feel every inch of him, pulling him down to you until he’s fit himself to your body, his skin feverishly flush against yours. His stiff cock fits along your slick seam, sliding through your folds when he rolls his hips against yours again, and again. 

“I want you,” you tell him, guiding his mouth to your own. “Let me make you feel good. I want to make you feel better.”

“You do, honey. You do.” Moving his lips to the edge of your mouth and then over the curve of your jaw, he licks along the hollow just under your ear before pressing a kiss there. “You always make me feel good. You make everything feel good.”

Your touch becomes almost frantic at his admission, the need to carve out a space for him inside your chest or merge your bodies into one or take his face into your hands and tell him until he understands just how much you would do anything for him. How much he means to you, how much you owe him. How much you want to protect him just as much as he protects you. 

He meets your urgency, his hands bracing themselves on the bed around your shoulders before he reaches down to line himself up, and you whine into his mouth when he notches himself against the dip of your entrance and slides in, filling you full. 

He breaks the kiss, his hips already starting a weighted rock. “Fuck, honey. Fuck.”

“Oh my God.” He usually gives you more time than this to get ready for him, usually uses his fingers and his tongue, and a tight fit, your jaw clenches as he makes room for himself, burying deep. “Joel.”

His mouth covers yours with a groan, drinking down the whimpers you let out with every push of his hips forward and you swallow every one of his, every grunt, every push of hot, humid air onto your tongue. His bicep strains under your knee when he hooks his arm under your leg to pull it up, first one and then the other, and he’s got you spread so wide underneath him between his deep thrusts and his solid body that you cry out for him, digging your nails into his hips for purchase. 

“You’re gonna make me come quick, honey. So quick –” he pants, his hips pounding into the cradle of your thighs. “And I don’t even care because you feel so fuckin’ good. So good.”

“Do it,” you encourage him, the words sliding into a moan. “I want it. I want you to come inside.”

“Yea?” he asks, his hand wrapping around your calve to tug your leg higher, resting it over his thick shoulder. Turning his head to the side, he presses a lingering kiss there, his breath washing over your skin and your mouth drops open at how deep he is. “You want it inside?”

“Please. Please,” you chant, helping him guide your other leg to rest on his shoulder and when he lets the weight of his body push you deeper into the mattress, you’re near bent in half, taking everything he needs to give. It’s a lot – too much, you’re going to feel it tomorrow – but you don’t care. 

“I’m gonna – I gotta do it harder, honey, because I’m –” he spits out the words, groaning midway through when he feels you start to clamp down around him. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. So tight for me.”

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you whine, the heat building between your hips flooding through your limbs and up through your breasts, where they press against his chest. Sweat glides between your bodies, and he moans louder at your admission, almost a growl of victory. “Make me come, I’m so close.”

The two of you move with single minded intensity; one of his hands fitting between your tailbone and the mattress to hit the angle just right, and your hips pushing up to meet his every punishing, weighted stroke down. 

He’s so thick, and filling, and heavy, your cunt so slick as he pushes in again, and again, and again, his mouth open in a pant above you with your knees almost at your shoulders and when you come with a sob, he buries himself deeper than he ever has with a weighted grind and does the same. 

The soft give of his belly jumps against yours, his throat stretched taut as he works in every last drop and when he finally relaxes over you, he’s gentle in his movements. His hands help your legs down – first one, then the other - and his mouth finds yours, giving you a kiss. Your legs find a home in a wind around his waist, your hold guiding him to lay on your chest and even though you could have killed for a fan earlier and still could, you keep him there. 

You nose along his sweat damp hairline, pressing a kiss on his slick temple and content, the two of you lay in silence; the only sound your shared, heavy breathing. 

His body melts on top of you, all taut agitation in his limbs gone as he pushes his arms underneath your back to hold you tight and you know he’s slipping into sleep by the way his breathing evens and slows under your palms. 

He’s still snug inside you, but you make no effort to move him. 

“Thank you for telling me about her,” you whisper to him, your fingers carding through his dark, unruly curls shot through with gray but you’re met with silence. 

Unburdened, he’s already fast asleep.

[yanderecrazysie]

Forgotten (Sintember)

Prompt: Forgotten for @sintember

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, murder, swearing, suggestive content

“And time moves on.”

If Atsumu had been sure of one thing, it was that you’d never move on. You’d never forget the best boyfriend you had ever had.

But now, as he stood under the shadows of a gnarled tree, across from the apartment he shouldn’t know you had moved into three months ago, he came to a sickening realization.

You had moved on.

The sight of you smiling at some other guy was breaking him. How could you smile at some random man in the same way you had smiled at Atsumu?

He remembered everything. Every smile, every laugh at his jokes, and the way you cuddled up to him, squeezing his hand, while you walked down the street. So how could you forget? How could you turn your smiling face, giggles, and hand squeezing onto someone else?

Atsumu’s love had always been obsessive- that’s why you had left. But the fact that he was forgotten made this possessive side curdle into something even darker.

The sky grew dark as you and your new boyfriend entered your apartment. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what you were doing inside…

Atsumu made his way to your apartment building. He wondered if you were curled up in the living room, with a book on your lap, just like you always were when he came home from practice or a game.

He could see through the space in the mostly-closed blinds, watching as you held a phone up to your ear, giggling at something someone said. It should be him on that other line or, better yet, waiting on your bed for you to finish your call, like your new tool most likely was doing.

A surge of possessiveness overcame him and he knocked harshly on the door. There was a long moment where he stood on the doorstep, wondering if he should knock again, but you swung the door open, staring blankly at him.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded.

“I needed to see you,” Atsumu said in a near-whisper.

“Sorry, I think you have the wrong place,” you said sharply, “I don’t know you. Not anymore.”

“We were perfect together,” Atsumu whimpered, heart breaking at your words.

“Again, I don’t know who you are,” you lied, closing the door in his face.

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

You sighed as you closed the door. You picked up your phone and called your friend back, “Sorry, I got interrupted by some idiot at the door.”

You continued your conversation with her for almost an hour before hanging up and heading to your room. You had a feeling your boyfriend was waiting for you on your bed, probably in very little clothing…

However, the moment you opened the door to your room, all of the air left your lungs. Atsumu sat on the edge of your bed, twirling a bloody knife boredly. As soon as he saw you, his eyes brightened.

You took a step back, retching when you saw the bleeding gash across your boyfriend’s neck and the sight of his blank, unseeing eyes. 

“What the fuck, Atsumu? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Atsumu grinned at you.

“Would you look at that? You do remember me after all.”

[dreamofjoys]

IKEMEN PRINCE — Chevalier Michel Self Aware AU (Yandere version)

— C/W: Self aware themes, YANDERE, might be OOC, masturbation (male), kidnapping

— A/N: My wild brain is acting up again

MDNI. 18+ only. The following content contains YANDERE. HATE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED AND BLOCKED! You have been warned

Chevalier has been wanting to pounce on you the moment he first laid his eyes on you

There was something about you that just makes him so attached to you

Was it because you were never scared of him at all?

Even though he may appear as just a fictional character to you, he is amused at how you treat him like a real person and love him as if he is actually your real lover (he is very happy about this)

His love obsession with you grew as the day passes

Sooner or later, the whole app is just about him

You cant access other character's route or interactions. The only person that you can interact with is him

However, this man has some.... pent up frustrations

His cock has always been throbbing in need whenever he sees you log in to the app as usual

It's painful for him to be limited in what he can do in this app. He wants nothing more than to touch you and fuck you on his bed

To ease this frustration, he starts to jerk himself off to your voice - aka whenever you logged in to the app

While you ramble about your day to him, this man is fisting his angry cock behind the screen and cumming on himself to the sound of your voice

He may appear calm and collected on the screen, but behind that facade, this man wants nothing more than to break the barrier that separates the both of you and take you back to his world

Perhaps it’s time for him to come up with a plan to bring you over to his side, permanently

It had all happened too quick

You were sleeping in on a normal weekend when you wake up to an unfamiliar surrounding

Why is there suddenly a big shelves of books in "your room" and why is your bed suddenly so soft?!

You blinked profusely and pinched your cheek, wondering if this is all a fever dream

But no matter how hard you try to deny it, your surroundings doesn't change at all. The stinging pain on your cheek is a clear reminder that whatever situation that you are in right now is reality

Just as you were about to start panicking, a cold voice interrupts you

"Are you done hurting yourself?"

You whipped your head to the source of the voice and found a handsome blonde man with eyes as blue as the frozen sea staring at you

He shuts the book in his hand and walk over to you while maintaining

It was then you realised how familiar this room looks like and how this man looks like a certain character...

The man took your chin between his thumb and index finger before lifting your head up and maneuvering it to get a better look at your face

With the way he was handling you, it felt like he was almost inspecting you like a tool

When he was done, his lips curls up into a devilish smirk

"Finally, you are mine."

[elliespeach]

tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them. 

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar. 

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness. 

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her. 

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth. 

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it. 

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.” 

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin. 

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with. 

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet. 

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.” 

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl. 

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you. 

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,” 

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.” 

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?” 

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,” 

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination. 

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat. 

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face. 

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you. 

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.” 

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop. 

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album. 

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains. 

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind? 

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’. 

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams. 

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?   

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable. 

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own. 

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable. 

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas. 

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post. 

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch. 

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds. 

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment. 

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way. 

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off. 

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman. 

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up. 

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock. 

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed. 

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least. 

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends? 

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself. 

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that. 

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked. 

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner. 

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all. 

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.  

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond. 

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time 

shauna: like 8 ish? 

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude 

cat: yeah wtf 

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight 

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere. 

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over. 

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

[amymbona]

Pls make a blurb about Reader forcing Patrick to help build a house for calico critters made with real wood and anything and this big man with big hands is just sewing tiny curtains, it sounds tew cute 🥹

It's not you who forces him but your baby girl Eleanor who doesn't like any of the houses displayed on the website. She has this particular idea about a princess looking three storey house with flowers and hearts, having provided Patrick with multiple sketches and thorough instructions on where the furtniture must be located.

"She's gonna be the death of me, I swear. Are you sure we can't find anything like this online?" Patrick mutters in partial annoyance, that is present mainly to find his distress, because - apart from tennis - he's not used to working with his hands at all.

You have a hard time focusing, unable to tear your eyes away from the typical dad stance - feet apart, balled fists resting on his hips - a belt with all the necessary tools ha going loosely around Patrick's hips. Damn, he looks really hot.

You rub his exposed arm, glad for the summer heat that made Patrick wear one of his sleeveless tops, and you thank god that Eleanor has currently gone to the local swimming pool with Lily and the Donaldsons. At least you don't have to control your primal urges.

"Oh, don't be so fussy babe. You're gonna nail it," you coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The sight is a mix of both arousing and comical. Patrick's muscles flex as he cuts the wood planks with a hand saw, the motion reminding you of multiple different things. He's grunting and mumbling under his breath - Why did I agree to this? Goddamn, this is ridiculous. - eyes rolling onto the back of his head when he sees that one piece is smaller than the remaining three.

"Are you having any issues, darling?" you mock with a laugh from where you're sitting in the garden chair, legs crossed comfortably, glancing up from your book. His reaction makes you giggle.

Patrick shoots you a glance, brows furrowed, and a drop of sweat rolls down his cheek. "You wanna try it yourself, sweetheart?"

This is the peak dad performance in your eyes, with you lounging under the sun while your gorgeous husband looks absolutely stunning, sweat covered, with little insults leaving his mouth. He manages to get all the essential pieces before putting them all together, drilling screws into the wood to form the main box shape, and finally putting in the planks make for the storeys.

When the outline is finally done and painted all white, Patrick lets it dry outside and moves into the living now, now fighting with your sewing machine. Unfortunately, the little windows must have curtains.

"This is fucking devil's work. How do you even use that?" he's sitting there like a school boy about to cry over his math homework, completely lost.

You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head as you take one of the pink fabric squares. Patrick's breath hirches completely as you begin explaining the basics. "It's easy, just work slowly. First, you took the thread - yup, here - then just place it there, under the needle."

Your husband has a fucking hard time focusing on the instructions, lips parting hungrily as the soft inside of your arm brushes over his cheek. He really can't resist, pressing a few kisses to your soft skin, for which he earns a gentle slap on the back of his head.

"Focus," you command, earning a sigh in response. He really just wanted to kiss you, to feel you. "Foot on the pedal - good - it begins moving when you step on it. Just let the fabric run through the whole way, and be careful about your fingers. C'mon, try it."

It takes Patrick a few tries - okay, a bit more than just a few - but eventually, he ends up with four squares that resemble curtains at least a bit. That is, unfortunately, all he can deliver. Being a good wife, you do the rest for him, sewing little beddings for the beds, a table cloth and the two remaining curtains.

The rest of the afternoon consists of Patrick painting messy details on the wooden walls and bringing some boxes from your old home down from the attic - thank god you kept all of your Barbie house equipment - and attempting to fit the pieces into the wooden house. He steals a few mint leaves from the garden and makes tiny makeshift house flowers with them, knowing he'd have to swap those every two or three days, but whatever makes his darling daughter happy, right?

And when Eleanor comes back home, her hair damp and a thin layer of sunburn on her freckled cheeks, she can't contain her excitement.

"Daddy!" she squeaks, throwing her short arms around your husband's neck. He picks her up, literally blushing when she peppers his fave with sloppy baby kisses.

"D'you like it, princess?" he asks with excitement shining in his own eyes. He'd be really fucking disappointed if she didn't.

And she nods eagerly, immediately squirming to hop down and examine the small house thoroughly. "It's so cute daddy, they're all gonna fit rhere! The bed's too big but that's okay. They can have a sleepover!"

Later that day, when Eleanor is playing in her room and moving the animal figures into their new accomodation, you take Patrick in your arms. He seems to be exhausted, even though this whole process can't come even close to what he experiences on court, but he's more than happy to snuggle in your arms.

"She really loves it," you whispers, gently threading fingers through his curly hair. Patrick hums in response, digging his face deeper into your chest. "I'm so lucky to have such a handy husband at home. All for me."

At that, Patrick perks up, lifting himself on his elbows to hover over you, mischief glowing in his eyes. "Yeah?

You nod, humming as you begin rubbing his arms, gently squeezing the muscles that flex as Patrick's holds his weight above you. God, you could bite into that flesh. "Yeah. And he's really fucking hot as well."

"Is he?" Patrick echoes, leaning closer to nudge your nose with his own, chuckling at your smugness. You're so pretty.

And you nod again, now wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him in for a kiss. His caloused palms move under your shoulders to scoop you into him, fully settling between your legs and pushing you into the mattress. You're so warm and soft for him, a perfect pillow to rest on, cheeky and smug when you compliment him. He supposes that's good enough of a reward for his hard work.

But unfortunately, a high pitched daddy! fills the house before he could move further, and all the appetite is lost when Eleanor asks for yet another home made house.

[bl3pwastaken]

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader pt2

tw and cw: unintentionally leaving reader feeling left out and lonely, Law kinda sucking at communicating his feelings, partial use of (Y/n), Eustass Kidd typical cursing, I wrote this shit instead of sleeping and while listening to Mitsuki

Twas cross posted on Ao3

Part 1 and Part 3

A Dive in Crystal Waters

He remembered the day, as fucking corny as it was to say, like it was yesterday. There she was sitting outside with a book in one hand and a small pair of shears in the other trimming expertly at a small azealia shrub for sale out in front of her family's shop. Face stern with concentration of whatever the hell was in her book, shears occupied hand occasionally switching with random gardening tools not looking up once from the pages, eyes glued. Instantly the man was smitten, a pang in his chest that felt warm and hot so much it hurt. There he stood having fully forgotten that he was on a supply run for the Polar Tang with Bepo, far too enamored by the absolute gorgeous woman across the road, hair messily pulled out of her face, skin sun kissed from working outside to tend to plants.

“Pretty and smart- huh.” The only give away on Law’s face being the smallest barely there blush, slightly widened eyes and the tiniest of a crooked smile. Right then and there he knew he just had to do, or fuck it, say something to her. Slight panic filled the man when he finally came too and saw her quirk a brow at him, a small smile of her own gracing her features as she walked back into the shop. With a quick jog across the road, over and into the shop, he was met with her beautiful sight again, this time no book in hand, but tinkering with the wires of one of the many UV lamps in the shop. 

“I’ll be right with you!” Her baggy overalls were littered with presumably dirt, and whatever the hell else that involves plants, hell if he knew, a pretty green bandeau covering her chest, with a couple stray pens tucked beneath the fabric. She was perched on a step ladder tinkering, and working away when she presumably finished, with her wiping her brow with a heavily gloved hand, moving to step down. The rusty metal of the ladder creaked and wobbled, and surprisingly she seemed utterly unbothered, used to the old thing and most of it’s quirks. That was until she looked up from her footing and met the strong gaze of Law, clearly flustered, she lost her footing, on a quick tumbling journey to the floor.

“Oh fuck- uh- room!” Her pretty face would’ve met the rocky flagstone, but much to her surprise she hadn’t, seemingly floating in the spot. Opening her eyes she found her eyes looking at the ground mear inches from her face, panic instantly setting in at the fact she was mid fall, suddenly not mid fall and starring at what probably would’ve at best given her a bloody nose, and to the what appeared to be irritated man she saw outside earlier. “The fuck is happening right now!?” 

“I panicked, that's what!” Voice full of exasperating anxiety, and slight confusion, Law scrambled over to the woman grabbing her by the arms turning her rightside up and only then he felt safe to deactivate his devil fruit, the gardener’s boots plopping firm on the stone floor. Anger and frustration fueled anxiety ebbed away, when she finally managed to get a good look at the tall man. Now it was her turn to stare, eyes drinking in Law like  she had never seen anything like him before, before resting on his eyes. From the instant she took in his tanned skin decorated in ink, the fact this man actually pulled off a goatee and then his beautiful steely eyes, she knew right then and there she couldn’t let this pretty man leave her shop.

Having to remain docked on the Island another few days to wait for the log post to reset, he heavily indulged on his visits to the little flower shop, making a point to buy the first plant he saw to hopefully make it seem less weird. The Gardener already having caught on would simply just greet and smile at him from behind the counter, looking at him through her lashes knowingly. The intention of his visits not only known to the two dumbstruck flirts, but to the sneaky glances of her parents, always finding some excuse to leave the shop, or “retire for the night” knowing it was only noon. Strangely enough on the last day Law had run to the tiny little shop like a mad man on the run, heart and eyes full of purpose. He wasn’t really eager to leave her just yet, there was so much left to know and learn about, with nowhere nearly enough time left to do any of that shit. He decided the best course of action was to ask one last burning question before he absolutely had to leave, he needed to know.

He found (Y/n), he learned was her name, sitting legs crossed, that same book in hand and a mug of tea in the other, sitting so pretty in her own world. It was the heavy panting, and heavy steps of Law that managed to claw her attention away from the book, finding him hands on his knees hunched over and sternly staring at her from where he stood. 

“Join my crew.”

                      ↞      ↞     ↞    ⇚   ⇜  ↭  ⇝   ⇛    ↠     ↠      ↠

“Can you believe that Law!? Like- just imagine how kickass it would be if this thing not only existed, but I could manage to grow it!” Currently the couple up laid in bed, legs tangled with one another’s, dressed in comfy pajamas, Law contently staring at the woman he loved, head propped on a hand, the former gardener turned botanist rambling ecstatically about this same plant he’s already heard what feels like millions of times already within the past few years. He remembers hearing from her how it could cure nearly any illness, it working wonders for pain and fatigue, something about it proving useful for mental health along with the physical health aspects. He had to admit although, yes this little plant sounded cool and piqued his inner doctor, he didn’t understand the hype around it. It was just a silly little plant, but it was this silly little plant that she talked about so animatedly that brought her joy, that she would occasionally be caught daydreaming about under the UV lights in the makeshift greenhouse room aboard ship, or discussing with whoever would listen during meals. It made her happy, and despite not understanding this whole thing all that much, seeing her so happy brought him what felt like just as much joy.

It was around a week later from that very night he actually managed to catch word of such a thing, found on a resource rich island. It was rumored to brim with precious metals, miracle working flora and fauna. What made such things damn near impossible for people to actually access such things being the fact the island was also covered in just as many dangerous plants, perilous animals and even stranger weather. It would prove difficult to even step foot inland if what he had been reading following months from the texts and books he scraped through piles of wild goose chases to find, were anything to go off.  The man was stretching his own self thin searching for this damned thing now having the knowledge that the damn thing was real. Digging through whatever information gathered late into the night, sometimes into the early hours of morning.

He knew if he were to get his hands on that fucking flower he’d need- help. He just needed someone dumb enough to rope into this, but strong enough to live through the whole ordeal of the new world island. Eyes of gray drifted from staring at the ceiling of his office to one of the notations on one of the many scattered notebooks, zeroing in on a very particular bullet point he only wrote as a passing thought during his reading.

 • Precious metals found deep at the heart of the island surrounding the Holy-Light Peony

To Law he couldn’t have snatched the transponder snail quick enough from the desk top. The dial tone of bedo bedo bedo resounded in the quiet dark lamp lit room for what felt like ages, ending to an abrupt click, gruff gravely grumbling coming from the line.

“Do you have a single clue what time it is fuckhead?” A quick glance of the clock flashed 3:27AM left the man speechless. He managed to spend another accidental night up late looking for this damned thing. It didn’t matter though, not when he could feel it in his bones that he was close. Quick on his feet, he came up with something to proposition Kidd, the infamous Captain of the Kid Pirates.

“How would you like to team up for a bit of a hunt?” Instant sputtering from the snail was what was heard along with a long string of curses and down right awful expletives.

“Law this better be so fucking good for interruptin’ my sleep, so fuckin’ help me-”

“Shut the fuck up and you’ll know that there’s some hard to come by super rare metal in it for you.” Silence. Hook and line.

“Go on.” Sinker. The smirk on Law’s face was downright criminal. 

                      ↞      ↞     ↞    ⇚   ⇜  ↭  ⇝   ⇛    ↠     ↠      ↠

Somewhere along the line everyone on the crew had caught on to Law’s plan, finding it the sweetest most cute thing ever for their Captain to drive himself damn near crazy looking for a flower of all things. Shachi and Penguin could swear he looked damn near crazed whenever Law found a good lead on reaching the island, and even more so where on said island it was located. What drove him even more up the wall than anything than this damn hunt over the godforsaken plant, was ensuring this remained a shared secret in the crew with everyone but you. Redirecting attention during meals due to you mentioning something she was working on, which of course led to someone else always feeling the need to almost let it slip on the surprise, 1,000% unaware he cut his love off in the process. Keeping interactions short between Shachi and Penguin whenever the sweet lovely botanist was around and in earshot to avoid the pair from teasing and potentially flustering him to avoid suspicion on your part that he and now everyone on the crew had planned. Often leaving poor (Y/n) left out of the loop, everyone too caught up to notice how anything ended up coming off, all too absorbed in succeeding in helping their Captain with the sweet gesture of love, Law included, and far too awful at showing their feelings. 

Many things were happening with her, unbeknownst to everyone but her. Everyone too caught up, too focused, and she was being left more and more alone with not a single idea of why the friends and found family she loved grew steadily distant, feeling as though her own boyfriend and Captain didn’t even love her anymore. Unknowing of how the girl tucked away in a far dark corner of the sub with the same book in hand from when she met Law, had heart lungs and heart in a near death bloom of flowering loneliness, and heartache.

                      ↞      ↞     ↞    ⇚   ⇜  ↭  ⇝   ⇛    ↠     ↠      ↠

Alright, kidd although begrudgingly, agreed to ally for the trek through the now located very much real island, was steadfast approaching the Polar Tang to arrive sometime tomorrow. He had a game plan, in his mind perfectly crafted, to have the love of his life take night watch duty so he could cram the crew on the opposite side of the sea vessel to run the plan over in prep for tomorrow. The Heart Pirates fired up simply, because their captain was fired up. Was it particularly strange it was over a plant? Yes, it definitely was. Was their Captain passionate about it though, and did it bring their friend in arms, practically the little sister of the crew, joy? Also yes, so to them who gave a fuck, they were damn well determined. Everything was smooth sailing from there. It was going smoothly, everything to plan, with how everyone had already packed for the following day, and the Kidd pirates had arrived surprisingly early in the next morning. With a particular pep in his step, and far too much anticipation of seeing his girlfriend’s face brighten when she finds out, he got up earlier than normal, rushed to get ready and started. 

Kidd, clearly annoyed, had a questioning scowl on his face, wordlessly inviting the rival pirate captain into his closed quarters to see what the plan was, seeing how it was this scrawny shits idea. 

“Sit the hell down, I got some damn questions for you before we go anywhere.” 

“How polite, don’t mind if I do-”

“Okay smart shit you’re testin’ my patentience and you don’t ask for shit let alone help, so I know you need me for somethin’. First, I wanna know what the hell you need my crew and I for.”

“The man eating plants and animals-”

“I wasn’t finished- the fuck you say to me?” Only getting a shrug in response was almost enough for an eruption of rage to explode and lead to an murder attempt on Law, really wanting to wipe that smug look off of his face. “You’re other question?” Trafalgar holding up two hands in mock innocence. Kid already snatching the stress ball Killer got for him, administering rapid squeezes to it as a small outlet to keep him from going off the deep end.

“Yeah, the hell are you doing this for and what’re you gettin’ out of it?”

                      ↞      ↞     ↞    ⇚   ⇜  ↭  ⇝   ⇛    ↠     ↠      ↠

“You mean to tell me, you dragged me into a stupid fuckass alliance over a dumb fucking flo-mmMMm!?” Law quickly cutting off Eutass’s screeching wrathful outburst by shoving a hand to the redhead’s mouth. Out the corner of his eye he took a quick glance to confirm he did in fact see his girlfriend right on deck with the the Kid Pirates’ first mate and another of the crew looking between her and the outburst of their beloved captain. The two coming to a silent mutual agreement that Kid could handle himself drew their attention back to the love of his life.

“Yes, it’s because of a dumb fucking flower, but it’s not dumb to (Y/N). I remember at one point this thing was all she would talk about, and I swear sometimes she looks more happy at her plants than she ever has at me,” Eustass quickly caught on to why there was some form of importance to, in his opinion a stupid random plant, although still irritated the shorter man didn’t just settle for some random flower on whatever Islands they passed here to give to the chick instead of roping him in. “It means a lot to her. I don’t understand her plant obsession either, but I know it just so happens to be on the very same Island that you’re looking for a certain rare metal. The island is said to be crawling with all sorts of creepy shit. Man eating plants, animals that’ll kill and eat anything including people. You need me and the botanist if you hope to have you and your crew in one piece to get to that dumb fucking metal you want so bad, and I need you to keep whatever ridiculous creature at bay. Some give and take.” 

Grabbing a hold of the hand clamped over his mouth with a firm grip, Kidd snatched Law’s hand off his face.

“Okay shut the fuck up, I get it, you’re obsessed with your woman, she’s more likely to take a bullet for some plants, and yadda yadda, you get what you want, I get something else that’s just as hard to come by in the same place. Pull your sissy panties out of their wedgy, you’re gonna have me up chuck breakfast.”