#and sometimes lines pop up and i'm like 'yeah that's useful'

[mieczyhale]

you're so caught up in pretending to be a good person you forgot to not do antisemitism

[hoshifighting]

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

[ddejavvu]

Wait Omg the thought of bau!reader and Aaron being secretly married but reader forgetting to take their ring off?? (Opposite to Spencer’s LOL). Everyone instantly zeroes in on it like ?????

You're not sure why you're on the receiving end of Prentiss's cheshire cat grin, but she's somewhat of an office prankster, so you assume that when you open the top drawer of your desk, a rubber band will fly out and whack you in the forehead. When no such thing happens, and JJ greets you with her own wide-eyed smile, you know something's wrong.

You retrieve the handheld mirror that you keep stashed away in your purse, trying to appear nonchalant as you glance over your face for any possible makeup smears. There's no smudges of eyeliner down your cheeks, mascara isn't dotted on your eyelid, and your lipstick is perfectly lined around your mouth; nothing is wrong.

You reach up to flick a wayward strand of hair away from your eyes, nothing big enough to attract the stares you're getting, but undesirable nonetheless. When you do you catch the glint of your wedding ring in the fluorescent lights of the bullpen, and your stomach drops.

That's not supposed to be there.

You snap the mirror closed and slide the ring off of your hand but it's too late, and both girls are snickering at your piss-poor attempt at concealment.

"Sooo," JJ hums, leaning over her desk with her chin propped on her hand, "When were you gonna tell us about that?"

"It's just a ring," You scoff, shoving it into the depths of your purse. You'll regret that later, when you're digging through napkins and lotion to find it, but for now evasion is key.

"Please," Emily scoffs, "That rock looks like it could pay my rent five times over. Are you seriously married?"

"No!" You gush, and you're sure they regret phrasing it as a question, because it gave you the opportunity to lie in answer, "No, I am not married, it's just a regular ring."

"Yeah, that's why you hid it from us," JJ drawls, "Morgan, did you know about this?"

"What?" The man's head pops up from his desk, "What do I know?"

"JJ, please-" You beg, but Prentiss is the one who answers, "Y/N's hitched!"

Derek's brows shoot comically high on his face, "Married-hitched?"

"No! I just wear rings sometimes," You insist, "Guys, I'm not married, this is ridiculous!"

"No one wears a ring that big unless it comes from a man who's equally endowed," Prentiss winks, that devilish grin on her face ever-present, "Come on, don't make Penelope deep dive, who's the lucky man?"

"What am I deep-diving for?" Garcia peers around the corner of the kitchenette, and you shoot Rossi a pleading look where he stands behind her. He'd been on his way back to his office, but apparently your drama has piqued his interest.

"She's married." Derek jerks a thumb at you, and it actually drops Garcia's jaw; you've always delighted in how cartoonish her reactions could be. Now, though, it provides enough silence for Rossi to speak, setting one of his hands on Penelope's shoulders.

"Don't waste your talents, Penelope. You don't need a deep dive to figure it out."

"Dave," You start, your voice sharp, but JJ cuts you off.

"Come on, you told Rossi before you told us?"

"She didn't tell me," Dave shakes his head, amusement glimmering in his eyes. You know he's absolutely ecstatic to be the one to let the cat out of the bag, and you resign yourself to slumping back in your chair as he changes the BAU forever more with two meager words: "Hotch did."

[mistiell]

We Keep this Love in a Photograph

summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)

a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.

**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.

---

It started on your birthday.

You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.

“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”

The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.

You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.

It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.

You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.

That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.

Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.

He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.

Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.

“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.

Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”

“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosens, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”

“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”

“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.

“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”

“Well, you are.”

He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”

Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.

You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.

“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling within the cage of your ribs.

You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.

You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”

He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.

You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.

That one, he hangs on the fridge.

[donutz]

sebastian with a reader who gives him a ton of resources and asks if they can buy a kiss from him O-O

Buying a kiss from Sebastian

You aren't that delusional right?

— A big ol smooch. Mwah. Delicious fishy skin oh so yummy.

Warning: Shy reader, but not the stereotypical 'Y/N'; Stutters, I'm sorry I'll try to make it realistic; THIS IS NOT A BIG DADDY AND SHY Y/N TROPE.; Sorry I just wanted to warn you; I don't use Y/N anyways, I use Reader as if there's a difference😎; There's no kiss on the lips☹️; Buttt there's a teasing Sebastian; 'Bad' words; Non-human reader, they just have the ear fins; They have green-like skin with four yellow eyes! Two fakes ones underneath their original ones; They also can disguise as a human

After dying over and over again, you became acquainted with Sebastian. You saw him in the shop and even saw him when you were dead. You’re not sure on how the dying thing works but…

It doesn’t really matter as long as you get to see Sebastian.

You’ve gained feelings for him, even though he isn’t very.. Human. His little insults can be annoying but I guess it’s um. Reasonable? Yeah that’s something you don’t enjoy all that much.

But his voice and his tone is something that you like. You may have a strange taste but who doesn’t like a 10 ft tall man that has aquatic features?

… Probably every other normal person…

But some mermen can be attractive! You feel like a little kid crushing on cartoons.

Sebastian seems very closed off and distant from humans. Maybe because humans are the reason he’s this way?

That’s understandable.

I don’t think I would like humans at all if I looked like that either. It’s not like he’s ugly it’s just… It seems like he was human before being that way.

Anyways

Maybe since he doesn’t seem okay with other forms of affection— You could get him a gift! It’s unexpected, can be taken as platonic, and a way to get closer to somebody! Perfect!

Though what should you get him?

Hmm…

You don’t know any of his likes, favorites, nothing really.

Oh!

But he has a shop!

You could uhh. Give him some items for his shop!

And then…

Ask for a kiss!

… Is that too forward? Well he might like you back!

He might… Like you back..

He doesn’t really give many hints on his feelings towards love. Especially towards you, minus the lessened amounts of insults he throws at you.

Oh that could be a hint! He stutters sometimes too! But he did that before he truly knew you… 

Ugh, too many ellipses.

Oh sorry I didn’t mean to break the 4th wall.

Agh hem.

As the loop starts again, you decided that the gift could be items. Items to give so he can hold it for his shop. Then a smooch!

A smooch?

Yeah a kiss. Totally. He’ll definitely give you a kiss with those… Rubber… Lips…

Okay maybe a kiss on the hand can suffice.

Exiting the submarine you prepare to give Sebastian a ton of items in return for a kiss!

Are you really that delusional?

.

.

.

Yes!

You end up finding flash beacons, flashlights, medkits— Actually maybe you should keep that one.

Y’know, just incase a good pers—

… Mmm…

People?

Just in case good people pops up.

Hate that thing.

Oh wow a lantern.

When it comes to the monsters and just being in this place in general, it’s like your whole personality switches. 

When it comes to Sebastian you’ll be all shy. But when it comes to just Urbanshade, its creatures, and Hadal Blacksite… You’re more mad and irritated.

Sometimes you even say bad words at the creatures.

Oooo.

Saying bad words even though you’re a grown adult.

How, “NO YOU CAN’T SAY THAT”!!

Y’know? 

When people infantilize shy characters?

Y’know?

☹️

You get pretty close to door fifty, having many helpful sources to give to that— man…

You hear an expected voice..(Oh how spooky)

“Hey. Come here”.

You look at an invisible camera pulling off that— Roblox man face or something- I don’t– I don’t know.

Speed walking over there in excitement, you hold a smile on your face. Your beautiful smile lines showing.

Damn, you really like him huh?

You crawl through the vents waiting with anticipation. Possible praise? Or even a smile?

You can’t wait.

Reaching the end of the vent, you immediately look up, bumping your head. It’s a good thing you have that head gear. You might’ve gotten a traumatic brain injury and five dollars.

… What.

A- Anways, you rub your head looking down.

“Oh damn. Well based on that head bump I already know who it is. Hello my favorite prisoner”.

“Hey Sebastian, yeah you’re so funny. Making fun of my h- head bump. Die”.

“Hey buddy I was justt messing arounddd”.

“M-hm- Mhm.” You let out pained noises. Getting out from the vent, you stretch out your limbs. Hearing a few pops

“Eww… Yuck, I hate those sounds.” Sebastian commented.

“Yeah they’re kinda weird about humans”.

“They suree areee”…

After a few seconds of silence, Sebastian speaks up.

“Soo, you gonna buy anything”?

“W- Well maybe, I– shiver, I actually have some gi- gifts for you.” Clearing your throat you physically cringe at the stuttering. It makes you seem.. I don’t know.. Fanfic material or something.

“Gifts”?

“Yea! Gifts.. T- To show you my um… G- Gratitude for- sigh, for giving me those items”.

He chuckled, “It’s not like I give you them for free or anything”.

“Yeah but sometimes you give me discounts”.

“Oh yeah huh”?

“So I— I wanted to give these to you, S- Sebastian”..

“You’re very stuttery today aren’t you”?

You look up at him while getting the things out of your bag.

You let out a shivery laugh, “Y- Yeah, I’ve never really um.. Given someone gifts before a- and it’s.. Spooky– down here”.

Sebastian could tell that was an excuse.

I know that was an excuse, it’s obvious you’re this way because of your little crush or something.

You hand Sebastian the items, his two claws engulfing yours. You wish these stupidly thick gloves were off your hands so you could actually feel his claws.

“And shaky”.

“Oh! Um”..

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks with concern. Putting away the items, he’s not sure why he even asked.

“Yeah I’m okay! It’s just um. Th- Those aren’t f- free.” Even with the small amount of built confidence, you were still very nervous.

“Oh of course they’re not. What is it? Do I have to give you some data or something? If you’re asking for cash then–”

“N- No”!

He’s surprised by the sudden and yippy-like voice.

“I uh, I don’t want data or cash”.

“... So, what do you want”?

“A. A uhm. Uh”.

“C’mon spit it out already”!

“A kiss!! Yeah a small kiss or something”..

.

.

.

Oh yes I love awkward moments, what about you?

“A kiss?” Sebastian repeats.

You nod, not even being able to speak right now. You’re looking at the ground with hands together and thumbs rubbing against the hard leather. If you weren’t sweating you definitely would be now.

“Y’know it would’ve made more sense if you said that before giving me the items”?

“Sebastian I’m serious”!

“Okay okay, yes you can have your kiss”.

You look up quickly, a quiet crack in your neck from turning it so fast.

You may think that you’re blushy and flustered one right now. Well that’s correct, if you can even blush.

Buttt you’re not the only one with a rapidly beating heart.

Sebastian’s trying to hide it, to not seem all vulnerable in front of somebody. Not just a human. Showing that you’re vulnerable is a sign of, I guess.. Weakness.

“But how can you even kiss me with that diving helmet”?

Oh yeah you forgot about that.

“O- Oh, yeah uhm- let me take care of that”.

That sentence peaks his interest, if you were to take that off then he’s sure your head would pop.

“W- Wait I was just joking—!” He reaches out to you to stop you, putting his right claw over your head gear.

Even though you’d be just fine with the pressure, you were shocked he even stopped you.

“Oh uhm. Sebastian. I’m not fully human, I can handle the pressure with or without the gear”.

Whattt??

His face scrunches with confusion and shock, stunned. 

You take off the head gear, but don’t worry, you’ve managed to disable that explosion thing. Just temporarily, they haven’t noticed yet.

You hold your gear in your hand, looking up at Sebastian.

You smile, showing off your yellowish, blueish teeth. Your ear fins sway slightly, up and down.

“Yeah I’m not really uhh, human. Fully anyways.” You set your gear on the ground—

“A- And I’ve taken care of that blowing up device. S- So don’t worry”.

God he reallyyy hopes that nobody walks in right now.

“Th- They can’t hear me either so, I’ll be fine temporarily. I’ll soon have to turn it all back on so they don’t suspect anything”.

Wow.

He thought you were kinda dumb to add onto your shy personality.

Damn.

That’s um.

Surprising.

You can feel his stare on you. It’s not very uhh, it’s not a good feeling.

You look back up at him, putting a hand over your forehead as if it were a visor.

“Do I not look good or-”

“N- No! That’s not why I’m staring. It’s just.. Surprising. I couldn’t really get any hints on how you weren’t a human”.

“Ah, well that was on purpose actually. I- I’m not sure if you really do scents but– I gave myself a more human scent and covered up the dark green skin with a more human one”.

Woww, yes you’re sooo smart.

He keeps on staring at you.

“Anyways, what about that uhm.. That kiss..?” You mentally cheer at the least amount of stutters in the much bolder question.

“O- Oh yes”!

Oo! A stutter!

“Well I doubt you would kiss me on the lips”.

“O- Oh I don’t m- mind— Ughh, I don’t mind kissing you anywhere really. Just a kiss itself is fine”!

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Y- Yes.” You whisper.

“Well, how about a kiss to the palm, yeah? Not too forward and nearly just the right amount of romance”.

“Yeah that’s fine”!!

Your somewhat wobbly legs move over to Sebastian. He slightly moves his right claw to your face, casting a shadow over your head because of how big it is.

You grab both sides of his hand and lean over to his palm, giving it a quick—

Smooch!

To the palm. Even after the kiss you still stay there for a few seconds, before backing away with your hands behind your back.

You hurriedly put your head gear back on before quickly stuttering out—

“T- Thank you f- for the k- kiss! I enjoy- gulp, enjoyed it”!

Rushing out of the shop, you let out a huge breath.

As if this was some show, the camera would pan to Sebastian’s scrunched up face, his lip(?) quivering. He’s happy that he’s cold blooded, or else he’d be blushing very, very hard right now.

He holds up that same palm, and puts it to his lips(??).

Letting out a shaky breath.

Guys guess how much words..

1773!!! I'm so good at um. Long fanfics yeah😛😛

[murdrdocs]

been having a niche thought of marrying patrick sort of for the benefits and access that comes with it.

no one knows if you and patrick married for the right reasons. there were suspicions at the engagement party, jokes made by the people who knew you best. "i never thought these two would settle down, much less with each other". laughter followed, but everyone knew there was truth in the statement. why in the hell would you decide to marry patrick zweig?

love, is what you tell everyone. according to both of you, you're soulmates. and yeah, in most regards both are true. you and patrick share a love for each other. but that love is shared with others, too. you know each other better than most. but there are two others who know you both just as well. sitting at the end of the table during the engagement party. sitting just close enough to you and patrick during the wedding reception.

the donaldsons are maybe the real reason why you and patrick married. it started as a joke, really. a deluded, elaborate bit created by a drunk art (finally allowed to indulge now that he's retired) and a barely-tipsy patrick (put on a strict regimen by his new coach).

"if you two married, no one would suspect anything between us," was art's reasoning. it barely made sense to you at the time, but not much could make sense when you were struggling to stay awake, being lulled to sleep by the rumble of patrick's chest beside your ear where you lay, and the sweet waft of tashi's perfume carrying in the evening wind.

"think about it," art had continued. "people won't be suspicious over two married couples being close friends. they already probably think i'm cheating with," art slurred your name and you distantly acknowledged how nice the sound was like that. it reminded you of when he was fucked out and he called for you. "and they think tashi's cheating with you, patrick. but if you two were married..."

and art didn't have to say much else. because on a fresh mind the next morning, standing in art and tashi's kitchen, wearing patrick's shirt and waiting for freshly cooked eggs while looking at the sunspots covering art's back and shoulders, you began to understand the logic in art's argument.

married couples were friends. close friends. spend the night at the others house and hosts birthday parties for each other type of friends.

maybe that's why after that day, you and patrick started seeing just each other more. maybe that's why the two of you started dating. maybe that's why patrick took you to a nice place, had art help him set everything up, and popped the question with a ring that tashi assured him you would like. maybe it's why you went through with the wedding, why you bought a house together, why you became mrs. zweig in every sense of the title.

and truthfully, it's a nice life.

it's nice seeing patrick walk downstairs shirtless, his body on display for you to ogle. it's always been like that between you two, yes, but something's different. he has hickies on his shoulders, two from art and then one from you right beside it. there's scratches on his back from you and tashi. he's always wearing his wedding band, and the gold glints nicely against his tan skin. sometimes, you pull the ring up his lithe finger and admire the way he has a tan line now. a permanent reminder of you, even if your presence in a shared space is the same.

he looks cleaner, too, from work of you and tashi. his body a healthy mix between lean and toned. his skin glowing from the inside out. his beard shaped up nicely, a light brown that works well with the burnt orange sprinkle in his eyes. curly hair kept short, more and more greys growing day by day.

it's nice sitting in tashi and art's backyard on patio furniture the four of you had a say in, sharing drinks and old anecdotes before you all went upstairs to entangle your bodies upon the king-sized bed.

even without the legalities, you and patrick would've remained intertwined in tashi and art's lives. but it feels right like this. it feels more secure. like you're committed to each other in the same ways that you're both committed to the dolandsons.

plus, patrick seems to be more bearable as a husband than he was as a friend (the term used loosely of course).

[mysteryshoptls]

2024-2025 Player Birthday Login Message Lines

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in on the birthday that you set in-game from 18 Mar 2024 to 17 Mar 2025! For those that want to hear them, you can find them in the Archive, under the tab その他　→　監督生バースデー④. (This will not be in your game archives until the birthday you set passes.)

You can find the 2021-2022 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2022-2023 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2023-2024 Birthday Login Message Lines here!

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. Thanks for always looking out for those two dorm students of mine. Actually, we're planning on hosting a reception this weekend at our dorm. I would like to invite you, as part of your birthday celebration. Heh. My apologies. Looks like that has caused you a little anxiety. No worries, I'll be beside you teaching you the proper manners the whole time.

Ace

Yo, [Yuu]. Happy Birthday― Mmkay, so let's get started on the birthday party. I'm just gonna pop on over to this one restaurant in town and nab some tasty-lookin' stuff! Just chill and wait here at Ramshackle... Hey, c'mon, I ain't tryin' to pull anything over on ya. Sometimes I just want to have a normal celebration too, y'know!

Deuce

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Let me take you to go buy a prese... Eh? You're saying that I've already given you a present because I fixed the broken lights in Ramshackle the other day...? No way, you don't gotta hold back like that! I want to go all out for my pal's special day. That's what makes me happy.

Cater

[Yuu]-chan, Happy Birthday―☆ Did ya post on Magicam that it's your birthday? Oh, not yet? Then, let Cay-kun here with all his power and wisdom write a post for you! We'll attach a cool photo and some slammin' hashtags... Whaddya think? A perfect gift from me, or what?

Trey

Happy Birthday. So, about your present... I do have one. It's just... I was asking around for what to gift you and in the end, I couldn't really figure out what I should get... So in the end, after being at a loss, I ended up getting you this shirt. I look at it now and wonder what possessed me to pick this pattern... Yeah, I know, it's just laughable.

SAVANACLAW

Leona

Yeah, yeah. Your birthday's come 'round again, hooray. ...What're you doing, setting up a chessboard on the floor like that? You practiced just to win a game against me? Oho, so you're challenging me, then. Look at the pluck on this herbivore. So, what're you willing to bet, then? No way you're gettin' away with just a simple game after throwin' down the gauntlet at me like this.

Jack

So, it's your birthday today. Have you set up any new goals yet? What, you're going to surpass me in our classes? Heh, that's a hilarious joke. You really think you can beat me? But I'll take you on. If you get a better score on our next test, I'll get you some kind of present.

Ruggie

Happy Birthday―! 'N that means, I got you somethin' that's fittin' comin' from an upperclassman like me. Ta-da! A homemade fishing rod～ ...Ah, you totally just thought it's a cheap gift, didn'tcha! But this totally works! I know what it's like to go hungry too, y'know～ You're probably always goin' through things, so if you're ever in a pinch, make sure you use this!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

A very Happy Birthday to you. Have you thought of a gift you'd like to get for yourself? Please, allow me to procure it for you... ...Oho, you have a keen eye to request something of that caliber. It may be considerably difficult to just anyone to acquire. HOW-EV-ER! If I were to handle it, that is a different situation altogether. I shall definitely make sure to retrieve it for you. Please wait expectantly.

Jade

Happy tidings for your birthday. I do hope this year will be another fruitful year for you. By the way, [Yuu]-san. Have you eaten yet? Oh, not yet, how wonderful. As a matter of fact, I thought I would treat you to something in my own little way. I only offer this with the best of intentions, of course. Fufu.

Floyd

Oh hey, Shrimpy-chan. It's your birthday today, huh. Mmkay, then I'll give you some snacks. I got these strange tastin' gummies, these wicked hard cookies, and some squishy jerky. Awesome, right? I got a ton, but all of them expire today, so. These are my presents to you, so you better eat them all without wastin' any, 'kay?

SCARABIA

Kalim

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Here's your present, from me to you. Ahaha, did that surprise you? I tried making a pop up birthday card just for you. I also tried making a ton of paper flowers that we use during celebrations back in the Scalding Sands. Don'tcha think they came out real pretty?

Jamil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. It isn't much, but here's your present. Ramshackle is a fairly old building. I'm sure there are bugs that will find their way in and try to settle down here. However, if you use this, you can rid yourself of all of them in an instant. I can vouch for its effectiveness. Use it as soon as you can.

POMEFIORE

Vil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. ...You wish for me to come to your party here, at Ramshackle? And to top it all off, you've prepared a healthy menu just for me... Heh, how considerate of you. Very well. I suppose I can make an appearance out of respect for your enthusiasm. I do hope you're honored that I'll be there to celebrate with you.

Epel

Happy Birthday! I put in a lot of thought picking out a present for you. Here ya go, fingerless gloves! Nice design, right? Makes using your phone a lot easier, too. It'll make you look super cool, and the more you use it, the more comfy it'll feel. I hope you use it tons!

Rook

I've been waiting, Trickster. Waiting, that is, to celebrate your birthday with you. A spectacular day requires a spectacular memory. That is why I've come up with a wonderful plan of my own. First, we watch two back-to-back theater performances, then attend a poetry reading, and finally, watch a movie in the evening. There will be no time to rest. Come, we must quickly fly towards the theater!

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Kk, time to pretend we all get along and celebrate a birthday again... Eep!? D-Did you hear that just now...? Uh, so... Happy B-day, I guess... Soz, I don't have a present for you. Didn't even know it was your birthday... What, you're seriously just happy hearing me wish you a happy b-day? [siiigh] Nah, I'll order something small online and have it shipped to Ramshackle sometime later.

Ortho

Happy Birthday! Here's your present. Go ahead and open it! Hehe, you see what I did? I used a laser to engrave a birthday message on a glass tumbler for you. It was a little difficult fine tuning the power adjustment for the more detailed parts, but it came out pretty good, don't you think? I really hope you like it!

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

Child of Man, I see today is your birthday. ...Hm? What's the matter? You look a tad glum. Ah, I see, you are struggling to carry all your presents. Well, allow me to deliver them to Ramshackle with magic in your stead. No need to protest, this is an effortless task for someone like me. You should enjoy your special day to the utmost.

Silver

Happy Birthday. You're curious about this braided cord? It is your present. Lilia-senpai explained it to me thusly... If a string wrapped around your wrist or ankle snaps off on its own, then your wish will be granted. I strung this cord together in hopes that you may have your wishes come true. It may be a tad ill-shaped, but if it pleases you, it is yours.

Sebek

As I recall, today is your birthday... Hm? You want me to come to your birthday party? What poor semblance of a joke. I don't have the spare time to waltz into some human gathering like... WHAT!? MY LIEGE HIMSELF WILL ALSO BE THERE!? THEN SAY THAT FIRST! For goodness' sake, humans like you are just... so thoroughly thoughtless. Hurry and provide me the location and commencement time!

Lilia

Ooh, nice. So today's your birthday. Just look at how big you're getting. ...Khee hee hee. Don't look so downtrodden. It's just me pretending to be a doting gramps. The other guys in my dorm don't ever let me joke with them like that. And so, I have a present for you. Here, a CD of my performances, specially made! Take this and enjoy my raging screamo music with your whole heart and body.

OTHERS

Crowley and Rollo do not have new lines. Theirs are repeated from last year's.

Grim

Today's your birthday, huh. Happy Birthday to you! ...Huh? Do I got a gift for ya? What're ya even saying? Shouldn't ya be happy enough that you're my number one favorite henchie? Fiiine. Guess I can use my paws to pad you a massage sometime. Wouldn't want to hafta sit in a hard and uncomfy lap, after all!

Crowley

Ta-daaa! What do you suppose this could be? That’s correct, it’s an exchange coupon for use at the Mystery Shop! You have been a consistent helping hand, so… This is a special gift for you. Happy Birthday. Incidentally, that is only worth 500 madol (5 Thaumarks). It cannot be exchanged for something pricier than that. Please don’t hold it against me.

Crewel

It seemed rather rowdy in here, but now I see it was just you, pup. Are you excited simply because its your birthday? I see, well, in that case, I have a special present just for you. As for what it is... It is a special alchemy homework assignment. You should be happy; you'll be able to improve your skills even further with this, don't you think? Haha, Happy Birthday.

Rollo

Whatever is the matter, [Yuu]-kun? There is a strange glimmer in your eyes… ...Ah, I see. Today is your birthday. A present? Hmph. I hardly think that it should be something you request of others… But no matter. Indeed, birthdays should be treasured. However, what would be an acceptable gift…? I am afraid I’m rather unaccustomed to this. I would hope I do not disappoint you with a poor gift choice.

Fellow

Oh, my, hello there, my learned scholar! I've been searching, and finally, I've found you! I was fervently hoping to wish you well for your birthday. Here, your present. ...As fellows lacking in magical abilities, we should get along together, don'tcha think? Happy Birthday! Fwahaha!

Requested by Anonymous.

[glitter-stained]

More Lantern!Bats shenanigans

Blue Lantern Duke: *jumps off a building to dodge an attack*

Blue Lantern Duke: *creates a grapple construct made of pure hope*

Villain of the week: "such a fickle and fragile thing, Imma cut his line with my evil sword of power..."

Villain, after shattering his sword and all the bones in his wrist on the line: what the fuck

*****

Bludhaven Goon #1 (BG1): Dude, run! Nightwing's powered have tripled over night!

Bludhaven Goon #2 (BG2): Oh no, what happened? Did something happen in Gotham? Someone gone after Robin?

BG1: I don't know, but we need to- wait what is he doing

BG1: he's straight up glowing I-

BG2: he's lighting up the nightsky-

BG2: ohmygod we're gonna die

Meanwhile Red Lantern! Dick, ranting to Wally on the comms: yeah so Cass took all the hot water while showering then told me to 'deal with it', someone kept hiding pig whoopee cushions that go "oink" in my seats and I can't figure out who, Jasont told everybody my most embarrassing Nightwing debut stories with photographed evidence, Damian tried to kidnap Bitewing thrice and Tim skipped out to go to a party using a stratagem so needlessly elaborate it looked like Jason had designed it, and we all thought someone had kidnapped him! But no, yeah, the visit went well, manor's fine. You know how it is, siblings...

*****

Rose: Hey Jason, how the fuck did you bag Kyle Rayner?

Star Sapphire Jason, whisper-shouting: I don't know what the fuck is going on, he popped in with yellow roses and offered to teach me how to make constructs, don't talk so loud I'm afraid that'll make him realise.

Referrencing these posts:

[silverzoomies]

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you.  You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...”  His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight. 

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

[igotanidea]

Test ride: Jason Todd x reader preview

Guys! I might be back from the dead! With a bleeding heart and tired mind, but with a few ideas up my sleeve :)

***

One thing about her was sure.

She was unbribeable.

And that was something in Gotham.

And I s'pose a vigilante, even Batman himself, can use a little help from a lawyer sometimes, right?

And clearly, one day, councellor Y/N Y/L/N got so tired of working with her ordinary cases, that she started aimlessly wandering across the Gotham's alleys.

Or maybe it was some sick self-destructive instincts. (pretty similar to someone else's if you ask me...).

The point was, Batman jumped in, saved her ass, yadda, yadda, yadda.

And she got his attention.

A few weeks later, Tim's style, she figured out his real identity. And therefore, joined the team. (subjecting Bruce to merciless teasing from the batkids, mocking him with the all-familiar phrase "do not involve civilians in the bussiness).

Obviously, Y/N was not a front-line fighter, but sidelines worked quite well for her as she focused on lawyering, cracking cases like walnuts and providing intel and insight.

But even with a new purpose, she was still lonely.

And the fate had it, that Jason Todd was bored.

And with his snarking, teasing uptake on things, drive to danger and the pressing urge to keep his shit under control, in which the current state of mind was not helping - he made her a proposition.

"Hey Y/N, you know what?" he called her casually one day after all the batkids, Jason included, miraculously found themselves in the batcave.

"Not a mind reader" she responded mockingly in a singing tone.

"Good for you" Jason immediately matched her tone "you wouldn't last a minute in my head, sunshine."

"Is that an invitation or a challenge Mr Todd?"

"A challenge. But in a different way than you might think."

"Well then, I;m all ears." she turned to face him, purposefully leaning a bit too close, to take this whole thing up a notch.

"We are both screwed..." he started

"Objection!"

"Overruled." he rolled his eyes "my deal is, since we are both fucked up, we might as well share the mental disease."

"huh?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, not understanding a single word, but fairly convinced that the Lazarus water finally ate his brain out completely.

"You're alone-"

"well thanks for pointing that out, since I had like five minutes of break from thinking about it-"

" -and I'm bored, so how about we keep each other entertained and take each other for a test drive?"

Y/N almost choked with her own saliva, her eyes popping out as she started caughing looking a freaking frog, even going a little green on the face.

"The hell Jason!?"

"Shit, I swear it sounded better in my head!"

"It should have never left your head!"

"It's not my fault you keep reading into the words too much!"

"I'm a lawyer! The hell were you thinking!?"

"Oh, I;m sorry for believing that under all that all and mighty professional armour you might be a human!"

"You're a freaking hypocrite, you know that?"

Jason sighed in frustration and run hand through his hair.

"Look all I meant was that we fill the gaps we're missing."

"So you'll act like my arm candy and I'll be your personal clown?"

"You don't even have to try much, do you?" he smirked

"I swear one more word out your mouth and the only entertainment you'll get will be a kick in the ass."

"I guess ending in hospital after such attempt would resolve your loneliness problem as well."

"Jerk."

"I'm serious Y/N. What do you have to loose?"

"Dignity, self-integrity, sound mind..." she started counting

"ok, okay, fine, I get it!" he raised both hands up, stopping her chant "but - it can also be fun. And if you keep refusing I might think you're chickening out."

"Oh! so it's not a challenge. It's a dare of which one of us will go insane first?"

"Something like that. Scared?"

"huh! you wish! you're the walking dead!"

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, we have a deal." she smirked and reached her hand towards him.

They shooke them, loooking into each other's eyes, getting mentally prepared for quite a lot of fun, even if neither was willing to say it outloud.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 4 - Immediate Murder Professionals

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Blitzø just might be stupid.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word Count: 2,340

Warnings: eh, mentions of sex only i think. also stolas is newly separated so he's trying this new thing called flirting. yes i'm a firm believer that stolas is naturally so weirdly flirty he could make a succubus flustered no questions asked.

“...and then I yelled ‘sorry I fucked your husband’ and just kinda… left.” 

Everyone was gathered around the big table in the meeting room at I.M.P., per Blitzø’s request. Well, he didn’t request it, per se- it was something more along the lines of yelling “Anyone who’s not a whiny bitch follow me, I got something to show you” and everyone just sort of complying. 

He had been on and on in excruciating detail about how he’d up and stolen whatever it was he wanted to show you. He had yet to show you a thing.

“Oh wow. You are an idiot,” you state.

“And why is that, witch bitch?”

“You stole from a Goetia prince?”

“Yeah I did. And I looked sexy doing it.”

“What did you even wanna steal so bad?” Millie asks.

“Oh-ho-ho. You’re not even fuckin’ ready. None of you are even fucking ready.” He slams a big, heavy book on the desk. You inspect it, trying to figure out why he would go out of his way, in a borderline suicidal quest, to steal a book. Your eyes widen when you realize you know exactly what it is. 

“You stole from STOLAS?” He had to be fucking- wait. “Wait, you fucked Stolas?” 

“What how’d you know it was him?”

“It’s- it’s his Grimoire. That’s what this is isn’t it?”

“Yup. And with this,” he explains to the others, since apparently you already knew of it, “we’ll be able to go up to the living world and kill any human we’re paid to kill.”

“That- that’s- Blitzø this is insane. And I don’t mean good insane. I mean batshit crazy insane.”

“How do you even know what this is?”

“I- I used to see him a lot. You know. Ozzie stuff. They’re always in meetings. I didn’t- I’m really having trouble believing he acted like that-”

“What, like a needy bitch in heat?” Blitzø cuts you off.

You feel yourself get flustered at the implication, not managing to finish whatever you had been about to say. 

“Oh my fucking Satan, Blitz,” Loona lets out a groan, frustrated at what she was hearing, which is fair. It’s enough to prompt her to leave the room entirely, assumingly to her seat at the front desk. 

“Sir, you need to give this back.” Moxxie pushes the book across the table back to him.

“What? After everything I had to go through to get it? No way!”

“No, Mox is right. Stolas is nice, but he’s still, like, one of the most powerful demons down here, dude. And this is- this is next level doing him wrong. You didn’t just steal from him, you played with his feelings too. That’s so much worse.”

“Feelings? Come on! So we’re all ganging up on Blitzo now, are we?” You all cringed a bit whenever he used his own given name. It felt weird and just totally… wrong, considering how adamant he always was about correcting everyone else when it came to it, but, to be fair, he didn’t really seem to notice when he did it. He just happened to absentmindedly call himself that sometimes when he was feeling criticized, which… well, you weren’t sure if you wanted to unpack whatever that meant. He keeps on. “I’m sorry I worry about us having jobs and money to pay rent and food to feed ourselves!”

“Blitz that’s not-” Millie starts, but gets cut off by Loona, who walks back into the room. “Guys, there’s an… owl… guy… thing… looking for Blitz out there.”

Oh, shit.

“We’re gonna die,” Moxxie mutters under his breath, starting to chant it over and over again, eyes almost popping out of his head. Millie puts her arms around his shoulders and brings his head to her lap to try and calm him down, sending a death glare- much like yourself- towards Blitzø, who now looked like a deer in headlights, caught red-handed, apparently not expecting to be found that soon. 

“Uuuhhh, tell him I’m not here!”

“Already did, he said some weird shit about being able to smell you or whatever the fuck that was about. That guy’s a fucking freak.” Huh. Maybe Blitzø wasn’t lying.

“Uhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck, gotta think, gotta think,” Blitzø begins pacing in circles around the room.

“Well? What the fuck did you expect?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead, alright? Sue me.”

“Oh really? I could have sworn you had everything figured out!” 

His head shoots up and he points at you, completely ignoring your sarcasm. “You go talk to him!” 

“Me? This is your problem!”

“Our problem! You work here don’t you?”

“Blitz I swear to Satan.”

“Pleeeaaaase?” He tries making puppy eyes at you. It’s kind of bizarre, but not entirely useless. “You said you know him, he’ll probably be nicer to you. Maybe you can soften the blow. Ha. Blow.”

“If it doesn’t work I’m ratting you out and I’m not gonna feel bad about it.”

“Thank you thank you thank you, I’ll owe you one, now go!”

You let out a groan, making sure he hears it. You could not believe you were about to do this. Sure, let’s confront pissed-off demon royalty about something of theirs that you definitely have in your possession just in the next room. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that. “Can you tell him to go to your dad’s office, Loons?”

“Yeah whatever.”

You make your way out of the meeting room and into Blitzø’s office, which is… a sight to behold. There were horse drawings scattered everywhere around the room, figurines of Millie, Moxxie, and yourself on top of his desk (you didn’t even want to know), guns you knew definitely didn’t have their safety locks on just laying on various different surfaces. Yeah, it was all very on-brand. 

You sit down on his chair, getting barely a few seconds to prepare yourself for your talk with Stolas before he walks into the room.

Well, no, he doesn’t exactly walk in. He leans against the door frame, pulling a leg up and running a hand up it as he starts speaking, yet to take a look into the room. “For someone so remarkably sexy you are so hard to find, Bli- oh my!” He’s visibly startled when he finally makew eye contact with you, evidently having expected Blitzø to be the one in your place. Almost tripping over himself, he tries to pull himself together, fixing his posture and wiping non-existent dust off of his clothes as if to pretend he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. Stolas had always kept his composure around you whenever he went over to meet with Ozzie, so this behavior… it was definitely new. 

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I thought you were-”

You decide to save him the embarrassment. Or, well,  further embarrassment. “Your Highness! Hi.”

“Y/n.” He remembers your name. What, of course he remembers your name, dumbass! That’s completely normal. “You… Do you not work for Asmodeus anymore?”

“Not really. I’d been working there a long time. Wanted to try something new.”

“So you chose to work… here?” He motions around, and you couldn’t blame him. It didn’t look like the best place in Hell. And you supposed it did seem like an odd change in occupation. 

“We’re a work in progress.”

“Well, do you and Asmodeus still keep in touch? I recall you were quite good friends.”

“Yes! We still are. We still are. How have you been, uh, doing, your highness?” You ask, carefully. 

“Please, there is still no need to call me that.” Your interactions always went like this- you called him by his title, he insisted you call him by his name, and you always refused to. Strangely enough, you called him by his name when referring to him in conversation with Ozzie. 

But you don’t feel the need for all of that now. “Right, I’m sorry. Stolas.” 

“Well, I haven’t been doing quite so great, actually. I’m sure you’re aware why.”

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them up again and forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, trying to stay collected. Play it cool. “I… might have an idea, yes.”

“You see, you have worked with Asmodeus for a long time. You’ve been around myself plenty, haven’t you, darling?”

Had he ever called you darling before? You’re positive he’s never, ever done that. 

Chill, dumbass! It’s just a fancy people thing. No big deal. “Yes.”

“Yes, so you know how crucial my Grimoire is for my purpose in the Ars Goetia, don’t you?” He speaks to you in an almost condescending manner. You almost feel insulted. Did his voice always sound like that?

“Yes.”

“Perfect. So I suppose you understand why I would be very upset when I came to find out your friend, Blitzy, stole such a sacred artifact from me.”

“I understand.”

“My Grimoire contains spells that are meant for mine and, in the future, my daughter’s use only, and it would simply be a scandal if it fell into the hands of itty bitty imps such as yourselves.” Okay, he was definitely being condescending now. Why was it kind of hot? It was definitely hot. 

What the fuck.

“Uhhhhh-”

“It makes things so much worse that he simply hurt my feelings! After a night of such passionate fornication, you could only imagine my surprise when I came to find out the book had been missing! Had I not known better I would have sworn it had been deceiving work of someone like yourself.”

“Like myself?”

“You are a succubus, aren’t you, dear?” He tilts his head to the side as if what he meant had been obvious. And it probably had- you’d just read too much into it. Was what Blitzø had told you about what happened getting to your head or something?

“Ooookay. Uh. I’m really- I’m really sorry about… all of that. Uh. Wow. Uh that really is a lot huh? I’m just gonna… I’m just gonna go call Blitz now and you guys can talk it out maybe. That fine for you? Fantastic. Good talk, Stolas!”

You slip past him and out of the office, catching your breath before going back into the meeting room to call Blitzø and let him handle the situation. What the actual fuck was that?

[. . .]

“So?” Millie questions Blitzø as he enters the meeting room again after a good half hour. Everyone follows, looking at him expectantly. 

He pauses, for dramatic effect. “Guess who just founded the first human-killing business in Hell?”

“What?” You ask, incredulous.

“I’m sorry sir are you saying the Prince is letting us use his spell book?”

“You heard it, Mox.”

“H-how?”

“Well I’m gonna have to dick him down every full moon but I guess that’s a good trade.”

The room goes silent. 

Moxie breaks the silence first. “Uhh, what?”

“What?”

“What’s that about the full moon?”

“Oh well. Well, apparently I’m a fantastic fucking lay, just unforgettable. So all I gotta do to have the book is give it back to him every full moon and then fuck him into oblivion and we’re good to go.”

“And you’re sure you’re fine with that?” You ask him, carefully. 

“Well yeah? It’s fucking great! We get the book AND I get to fuck a Prince into submission every once in a while? Couldn’t be better.”

You’re not that sure about it, but what was the point in arguing with him? You shrug. “If you say so.”

“And he’s just… fine with that?” Moxxie questions, not buying it.

“What, you think I’d lie?”

“Yeah,” everyone replies, without hesitation.

“Well I’m not!”

“Well shit. Your dick must be good.” Well, that wasn’t supposed to come out.

He grins. “Ya wanna find out?”

You stare at him, unamused, for a second, locking eyes with Moxxie soon after. 

“You deserved that,” Moxxie points out.

“Yeah I regretted it as soon I said it.”

“You really should have seen it coming,” Blitzø himself adds.He grabs the Grimoire, bringing everyone’s attention to it. “So. Aren’t y’all curious? I know I wanna know what the human realm is like.”

“It’s really not that different from here,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah, I forget you’ve been there before. What do you guys even do there?”

“Uuuhhh.”

“They fuck people to death, Mills, ain’t that cool?”

“Oh shut up you know that hardly ever happens anymore.”

“But’cha could.”

You sigh, knowing he just wanted to hear that he was right. You give him a little smile. “But I could.” 

“Hell yeah!” It was always weirdly nice that he thought that part of what you were was cool rather than being disgusted by it.  “Should we go take a look?”

“How’d ya even work this thing?” Millie asks, examining the book in Blitzø’s hands.

“Fuck if I know.”

“You didn’t ask him?” Loona asks.

“Not really.”

“I’m not even-” she rolls her eyes. “Gimme that” Snatching the book from him and going through the pages for a bit, she stops in a particular one, attempting a few times to read some words from it. Fair enough, a portal leading… somewhere… appears. You’d have to put a pin on that for later and ask her how she knew what to do, but right now everyone was too excited.

“Let’s go fuck some humans to death!” Blitzø exclaims.

“No.” You say sternly.

“Let’s go fuck some humans?” He tries again.

“Sir! No!” Moxxie yells, disgusted.

“Let’s go kill some humans!”

“Hell yeah!” Millie finally agrees,

“Yeah! Wait why am I even listening to you guys, I’m the boss here!” 

“Sure thing Blitz.” You assure him, getting your foot through the portal. “You coming?”

Blitzø turns around. “Looney? You’re not killing anyone there. Got it? It’s too dangerous.”

“But that’s no fun!”

“Looney.”

“Fine.”

“Let’s go kill some humans then!” He shoves you into the portal, jumping through right after you. Jackass.

A/N: i did a lot of things different than i said id do lmao and i toned down the flirting from stolas to leave it for a different chapter hope this is fun it aint gonna be fun for v long luv yall

[leclerc-s]

there’s no separating work husbands

series masterlist

rowan todd i now realize i have been silently suffering for far too long.

bailey winters LMAOOOOO!!! SUCK IT!! rowan todd you have no room to talk winters.

daniel jones-ricciardo suffering from what?

fernando alonso third-wheelitis

sebastian vettel that's not a word. fernando alonso it is now!

logan sargeant how are we supposed to believe that those two are mature adults?

ollie bearman better question, how are any of you adults?

alex albon sometimes it's a miracle any of us have lived as long as we have

yuki tsunoda I'M BACK BITCHES!

rhys jones has he always been here? isabella perez he muted us after pierre left RB and only popped in to make fun of pierre every once in a while.

rowan todd there he is, the bane of my existence.

yuki tsunoda little me?

lance stroll i'm convinced who's afraid of little old me was written for yuki, mae, and penelope.

charles leclerc now why would you tell them? mae jones-verstappen we can read this you fake bitch.

pierre gasly YUKI!!

yuki tsunoda PIERRE!

max jones-verstappen they're married. the faster we admit it the faster it's over.

mick schumacher that sure doesn't stop you from third wheeling daphne and daniel. max jones-verstappen sometimes i have to fight the urge to punch you schumacher.

yuki tsunoda if it helps, you're my favorite gasly rowan.

pierre gasly what the fuck yuki?

freya vettel this is yuki's 'breaking my silence' video.

yuki tsunoda rowan still visits me, unlike someone.

rowan todd it's true and he feeds me in return.

lance stroll because fuck the french right?

yuki tsunoda yes!

daphne jones-ricciardo i don't think i've ever seen a third-wheel and the significant other ganging up on the other person in the relationship.

sebastian vettel rowan and yuki like to defy the odds.

mick schumacher like alex and george when they dare each other to do stupid shit.

george russell SHUT YOUR MOUTH SCHUMACHER!! alex albon shut up mick!

ollie bearman i'm never introducing my girlfriend to you people.

isabella perez well you have to because i'm your mother.

pato o'ward you must oliver!

gael perez leave the poor boy alone oh my god.

dulce perez says the nosiest bitch in this group chat.

rowan todd i've been kicked out of my own apartment by my own boyfriend.

bailey winters it's almost too funny i have to laugh. rowan todd zip it winters.

isabella perez wait, they actually kicked you out?

rowan todd pierre told me, 'yuki forgot to get something, can you go grab it for us?'

rowan todd i thought they were sending me to yuki's car, but noooo!

rowan todd they sent me to the fucking store to pick it up.

daphne jones-ricciardo sometimes i genuinely feel bad for you rowan

dulce perez why sometimes?

daphne jones-ricciardo she chose pierre. this is no one's fault but hers.

mae jones-verstappen well you're the one who invited them both to your party, so if anything this is your fault.

natalia ruiz was she supposed to know rowan would decide, 'yeah, i want that french fucker.'

penelope trevino just start a pierre gasly hate club. have yuki and esteban join you.

isabella perez ooh! i'll join too, i'm still mad he ate my churros that one time. natalia ruiz count me in too tf. mae jones-verstappen i have pent up rage against pierre for making fun of me after my break up with max. count me in too.

isabella perez pierre's kind of an ass, why are you with him rowan?

rowan todd i can fix him (no really i can)

daphne jones-ricciardo remember what the ending line of that song is? 'woah, maybe i can't'

penelope trevino but she did?

natalia ruiz pierre is an asshole on the outside but on the inside he's a huge softie. we all know this.

mae jones-verstappen but it's so funny to shit on him.

daphne jones-ricciardo just hang out with yuki without him. make him suffer.

rowan todd that's actually a smart idea. brb going to ask yuki to grab lunch with me.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, gaelperez, daphnejonesricciardo and others

rowantodd not pictured is yuki screaming for help because pierre almost set the kitchen on fire. i was also sent to get the groceries while pierre 'hung out' with yuki.

tagged: pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511

view all comments

yukitsunoda0511 thank you for having me rowan!!

↳ rowantodd you're welcome to come back anytime yuki, but please leave your assistant at home.

↳ pierregasly this is slander against me.

landonorris i need to find someone who looks at me the way yuki looks at pierre

↳ baileywinters so guess who's single now.

↳ landonorris baby no! i didn't mean it like that!

user52 damn third wheeling in her own home

↳ user79 it seems like they're forcing pierre to third wheel them

user61 what dignified little lady martini is!

user25 pierre gasly having a yorkie as a pet was something i never expected when i became a formula 1 fan.

↳ user14 and this man still makes 🐶 jokes.

nataliaruiz not all of us can have a joris third wheel but at least yours feeds you.

↳ rowantodd at least it's not lando.

↳ penelopetrevino he sucks but only i can shit talk him.

↳ landonorris thanks mom!

user89 what a cute family, pierre, his ex-wife rowan, his husband yuki, and their child martini.

❤️ by rowantodd, yukitsunoda0511, and others

pierregasly ah, my two loves, yuki and martini.

↳ rowantodd this is why i've never written a love song about you.

↳ danieljonesricciardo this is why she got a divorce from you.

estebanocon ah, my favorite member of the gasly family, martini.

↳ rowantodd this is why you're her favorite alpine driver, besides jack

↳ jackdoohan aw shucks i'm honored.

olliebearman if martini goes missing, just know it wasn't me.

user35 everyday i'm reminded that martini is a 'happy divorce day' gift pierre got for rowan.

↳ user66 THAT'S WHY THEY HAVE A DOG??

↳ user35 oh yeah, martini is an 'i'm happy we got a divorce' gift.

jeremyrenner is that tripod guy?

↳ rowantodd please stop.

↳ pierregasly i refuse to believe jeremy renner knows me as tripod guy. i've never been so embarrassed.

↳ isabellaperez is this worse than tom holland referring to you as tripod during the monaco gp?

↳ gaelperez sebastian stan and anthony mackie also know you as tripod.

↳ pierregasly i've never hated myself more.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 HA!

pierre gasly end my suffering.

esteban ocon LMAOOOO!!! SUCK IT BITCH!!

lewis hamilton oh no. what happened now?

pierre gasly THEY'RE GANGING UP ON ME!! I AM SUFFERING!!

sebastian vettel i thought we had another pr nightmare on our hands.

isabella perez no, everything is calm on that front for now.

rhys jones i can start a rumor about daniel being pregnant with max's child?

daniel jones-ricciardo why am i always the victim of his crimes?

rowan todd SUFFER LIKE I HAVE SUFFERED YOU CROISSANT!!

yuki tsunoda I'M STEALING THE GOD!! SHE'S MINE NOW!

pierre gasly YOU LEAVE MARTINI ALONE TSUNODA!!

charles leclerc STEAL HIS DOG YUKI! HE TRIED TAKING LEO FROM ME!!

daphne jones-ricciardo did they go out to get lunch without you?

pierre gasly how did you know?

dulce perez it was her idea.

pierre gasly i hope you have issues with your mic in paris daphne.

rhys jones i hope you piss in your tractor of a car pierre.

lance stroll he's scary. keep him away from sharp objects.

rhys jones i'm making it my mission to scare my sisters haters. pierre gasly, you're at the top of my list.

carlos sainz he's what the people describe as feral.

lando norris this is a trick to divert pierre's attention from rowan and yuki.

pierre gasly WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE!!!

rowan todd YOU'LL NEVER FIND US!!

yuki tsunoda YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE!!

pierre gasly i'll find you two. i swear.

rowantodd has posted new stories

hanging without pierre, this is the best experience either one of us have had. oh look who decided to crash my yuki-time. that was my desert...

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! took the weekend off but i’m back! convinced this isn't my best work but it still delivers on humor (i think)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[jester089]

.

What would happen if, having appeared at the circus, the reader looked around and said animatedly. “Wow...this place has changed so much. You did a good job, Kane!” - instead of the usual panics. It was as if they were already here. And how do they know his name is Kane?

everything is very simple. The reader has already been to the circus once (back when the queener was alive), but was able to escape. The reader decided to come back, because they felt sorry for the people in the circus, but when they came again, all the old characters had long since disappeared, and instead they saw the main cast. They had to explain everything again: what the world looks like from the outside, how much it has changed, and most importantly, that there is a way out and they are helping them.

They know how to find a way out, remember their past and true name, and have decided to came back to help others escape. It would be cool if Kinder remembered the reader, because he was the first

Back so soon?

So their is what you asked. But it made me think of something. What if reader was someone who created Caine/the circus. And they check in like every 6 months or so just to see how everything is going, and to make sure nothing is going horribly wrong. But they can't get the others out. So they just do their best to make the place comfortable. I'll still write your request but my idea will probably be written soon. Maybe. I honestly don't know. But you didn't specify on if you wanted the crew sperate or not so I'm just going to do a one shot.

TADC crew x Reader who visits the circus

You pop in on digital circus every now and again just to check in on everything and see how Caine is. Your a coder and stumbled upon it by chance. That is actually how you found a way out, and help everyone with their memories. Those x'ed out doors are people you've gotten out, or ones who abstracted before you could help them. You sometimes use it as a vacation too. Life is stressful and that place is full of a childlike fun and relaxing atmosphere when you aren't worried about escape. I mean you don't have to eat, drink, or sleep. And you get to go on silly adventures. 10/10 vacation spot if that's your thing. You pop into the colorful main room and look around. It's about the same as last time, that isn't a bad thing though. "Caine! I'm back!" No response. huh. Eh he's a busy guy you can't really blame him. You start walking towards the rooms hoping to meet everyone new. ~~~~~

You get there and skim over the doors different pictures. "Ok so looks like we gottt. A comedy masked ribbon person. A mismatch of colors and pieces poor them. A chess piece. Oh no, their was a queen version. Oh geez now I feel awful. Maybe I should stop by more... Ok uhh, a ragdoll. A periwinkle bunny. And a Jester. Alright not a bad line up." You ring each rooms door bell getting no response each time. "Wonder where everyone is. I hope they're ok." You start wandering around calling out for Caine every now and again. ~~~~~ After around 20 minutes of wandering you find Caine and the group of people that the rooms belong to at the carnival. You jog up to them waving. "Caine! I'm back!" He does an over the top spin and hold the sides of his head like. "Y/N!!! What a pleasure to see you again! Back so soon too! We were having a day at the carnival! Seeing as how it wasn't used for a long time I made some changes! Their is now more rides! And an arcade! How about I introduce you to everyone!" "Yeah I would love that! Also I can't wait to try out the new rides. I had been on the old ones more times then I can count." He directs you towards the crowd of people some are looking at you confused as to how you know Caine, and aren't freaking out. Some just look like they don't wanna be there. ~~~~~

Around 5 minutes later you know everyone by name (Sorry I didn't write that. But you already know who they are and that would have taken me longer then I'm willing to take) so you introduce yourself and how you know Caine. "It's lovely to meet you all! I'm Y/N L/N, but you can just call me Y/N. I'm a coder who can get in and out of the digital circus so I visit sometimes." The short Jester who you now know as Pomni snaps her head in your direction. "You have a way out?!" "Uhh yeah. That's actually the main reason I visit so often. To help people out and get them out. It doesn't really work without me here so I try and visit whenever I can." "Get. Me. OUT OF HERE!" "Ok, ok geez. The rest of you want out too?" You receive only positive reactions so you take that as a yes. You motion for all of them to follow but before you walk off you turn to Caine. "Be back soon! Just gotta get these people home." "But of course. I feel their should be a way for me to be able to get people out. You'd think I would me being the controller of everything their would be. But at least their is a way for everyone to get out. See you soon Y/N and thank you again for all your help!" You wave then lead the group back to the main room and to the stage. "You can do this just about anywhere but this is the place that I've found is the best. My best guess is because it's always where people pop in when they first arrive." You walk up to a seeming specific wall and do something (?) to it. You move off to the side and motion for them to walk into the wall. Pomni essentially sprints into it not even thinking that you could be joking. And she goes straight through. The others soon following. After everyone's out you stretch and start walking back towards the carnival. "Some digital cotton candy sound pretty good right now. And I wanna try out those new rides Caine talked about."

(If I'm being honest I didn't really like how this turned out. But I digress. Sorry it took so long. And sorry only really Pomni talked. Still I hope you enjoyed it! I'm going to give this a special tag cause I feel like I'm going to continue it someday.)

xoxo, Jester

[v7knp]

Telapath [a.a]

a/n: fluff, coworker romance, idk what else chapter one. mindreader, reader!x loser!abby (this is also kinda long, srry)

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

Ever since you were young, you could tell what someone was thinking. You knew by looking at them and focusing on their inner thoughts.

It's been both a gift and a curse. Having to hear people disgusting thoughts, but you also got to know what people really thought.

You knew it was wrong to intrude on people's privacy so you usually tried to ignore people's thoughts, but sometimes you get bored so why not?

No one knew not even your best friend, Dina. You wanted to tell her, but you thought it would freak her out, so you kept your mouth shut.

You're now a retail worker, it's actually pretty fun, and easy. How could it be hard? All you do is fold, cash customers out, and get breaks, etc.

But today was different, there was a new hire. She was tall, and muscualar, and so fucking bueatiful. Her name was Abby Anderson.

Your manager asked you to train her, you instantly said yes.

Your manager meet you two and you went to the cashier to train her.

Her first thought when you two meet was

"Holy shit she's pretty"

"Hi, I'm y/n, and you're obviously Abby" you giggled. She just let out a breathy laugh and a "Yeah".

"Umm, okay I guess I'll show you how to work this" you smiled.

She was looking down at you as you were explaning all the buttons which opened the drawer, and which told you how much money to give back, etc.

But she wasnt paying attention, a million thoughts were running through her head.

"She smells so good, like vanilla"

"She has such a pretty smile"

"Oh shit, what did she just say? I wasn't even paying attention"

"Sorry could you.. um repeat that I didnt hear you?" she had spoken up.

"Oh yeah" you said, knowing why she couldnt hear you.

You finished training her, and went back to work. Like 45 minutes later she came up to you.

"Y/n?" She seemed nervous. "Yeah?" you asked looking up at her. "You okay?" you said after a moment of silence.

"Oh.. uh.. yeah, how do you take the security tags off?"

"Oh duh, shit I totally forgot about that, sorry, I'll show you." you walked up with her, a customer was on the other side of the counter.

"Okay, so you just use this tool, and you just pop it off" you looked up and smiled at her, watching her try.

"Her smile is so nice"

"Alright, come get me if you need me agian"

after the course of a couple weeks and listening in on Abby's thoughts, you knew how she felt, and you felt the same.

You were clocking into work in the morning, and when you turned around when you finished, you bumped into Abby.

You had accidentaly spilt her coffee, and it got on her white shirt "Oh shit, Abs I'm sorry, I'll help you clean up" you said

"Does it hurt?" you questioned seeing if she was burned. She seemed to have a dull reaction.

"Abby, I jusy spilt hot ass water on you, are you okay?" You said sternly, trying to get her attention.

"Y-yeah no I'm fine" abby said blandly, you could tell she seemed off.

"Did it sound like I didn't care she was trying to help me?"

"Hope not"

You dragged her to the bathroom, and helped her clean up, her shirt was still wet though and very see through.

You could see every muscle, from her slightly coverd bicep, to her abs, down to her pants line.

You were starring and once you realized you've been starring for too long, you looked back up to see a pink face.

"U..um do you have an extra shirt?" Abby said with a slight shake in her voice.

"No, just use one from the store, no one will notice" you chuckled dryly.

It's now your lunch break, and Abby's about to go on hers.

"Hey Abs, so since I spilt your coffee on you this morning, I'll go buy you another one... If.. if you want" you said on the customer side of the counter.

"Oh my god, is she asking me on a date?"

"Should I ask if it's a date, no it'll werid her out"

"Abs?" you asked her obviously hearing her thoughts, you still needed the okay.

"Yes, yeah I'll go with you" she said with a big smile.

"Did I sound too excited about it, shit, I hope I didnt"

"Okay cool, finish here and I'll come back here to pick you up" you smiled and walked away.

moments later after getting ready to go out, you walk up to the counter, you guys went to the coffee shop down the street.

As you two are walking down the road, talking and laughing, you hear more thoughts rushing into Abbys pretty head.

"Her laugh is so nice"

"I wonder how she feels about me... Should I ask, no, what if she doesnt feel the same and I embarrass myself?"

"So who do you listen to?" you say "like music" you continued on not knowing if she knew what you ment.

"I listen to a little bit of everything, like umm Noah Kahan"

"I'm gonna be up front with you I don't know who that is" you said chuckling.

"It's okay, not to many people do" she says sarcastically.

"Oh so that makes you mysterious?"you joked and Abby laughed.

You guys made it to the coffee shop, and each got a coffee.

"Do you have a favorite genre of movies?" you asked trying to spark a convo.

"Yeah, I like comidies, you?"

"I love horror movies" you said excitedly.

She laughed and you two finished your lunch break and headed back to the store, finished your shifts and clocked out.

On the way out, you heard footsteps behind you, you turned around and saw Abby.

"Hey Abs, what's up?"

"Um so me and my friends are having a little get- together or party or whatever you wanna call it, do you umm, mabye wanna come?"

"Yeah I'd love to I have zero plans tonight anyways"

"Well if I'm going anywhere I'm gonna need your number to go" you said as a tactic to get her number.

"Yeah, yeah, here" she said unlocking her phone.

"was this a way to get my number? That was so sly"

"Okay well send me the address and I'll be there." you smiled.

[skiller0dani]

Going Home | Eleven

M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.

Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!

BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.

CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.

“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 

“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 

“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 

“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 

“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 

“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 

“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 

You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 

Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 

So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 

You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 

“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 

“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 

“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 

“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 

“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 

“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 

“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 

“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 

“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 

“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 

“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 

“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 

“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.

“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 

“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 

“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.

“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 

“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 

“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.

“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 

“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 

“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 

“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 

“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 

“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 

“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 

“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 

“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 

“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 

“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 

“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 

“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 

“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.

“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 

“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 

“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 

The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.

The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 

He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 

Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 

“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 

“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 

“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.

“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 

“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 

You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 

Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 

“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 

“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 

“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 

“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 

You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 

The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 

The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 

“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 

“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 

“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 

“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 

“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 

“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 

“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 

“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 

“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 

“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 

“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.

“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 

“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 

“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 

“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 

“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 

“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 

“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 

“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 

He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 

“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 

“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 

“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 

“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 

“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 

“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 

“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 

“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 

“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 

“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 

“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.

The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 

“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 

“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 

“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 

“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 

“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 

“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 

“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 

“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 

“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 

The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 

“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.

“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 

“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 

“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 

“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 

“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 

“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 

“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 

“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - Chapter 3

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, brief mention date rape, domestic violence, not reader oh make me over, i'm all i wanna be, a walking study, in demonology - celebrity skin, hole

3. for the life of the flesh is in the blood 

It is both a relief and a disappointment, that you find your first experience of feeding on John Constantine was quite singular. No one since has inspired the same brand of heady lust when you break a vein. You think about him often, but you've done your best to give the demon hunter a wide berth. You're sure the last thing he wants is some needy little leech following him around, begging for his attention. 

You're sure he only saved you out of pity, anyway. 

It still hurts, so you try not to think about it anymore.

You have taken to hunting your meals amongst the evil doers of the city—of which there is no shortage, in the City of Angels. Your favorite method has become playing the party-going damsel in a bar not watching her drink. When the inevitable asshole drops a dose of something in it, a thing you have found does not affect you at all, you play drowsy and accompany him to the inevitable alley or sometimes even his car, where you pounce.

You can't say you feel too terrible about removing such trash from the population. You're not sure how God feels about your methods, but then you're not sure it matters any way. It helps pay your rent too. Holding down a job as a vampire kind of went out the window, so you help yourself to whatever cash you find in your criminals' wallets with little remorse. 

The fact of the matter is, as time goes on...you don't exactly hate being a vampire. It took some adjustment, sure, but you have power you'd only dreamed of as a human woman. You can go anywhere you want now without fear. You are fast. You are strong. You haven't figured out flying yet, but even that seems like it might be possible down the line. 

Maybe you could ask a fellow vampire about what is and isn't possible, but you have yet to actually meet one. 

You've sensed them around the streets of LA—but in the end you always chicken out and flee the scene. The vampires who made you were not exactly shining examples. You're not in a hurry to fall in with their ilk. You'd observed there was a definite pecking order in the coven that took you, and you're not exactly eager to become some asshole's toady again, a little cog in some evil plot or another. You’d played that game in corporate America in your old life, and you're not going back to it. 

One evening when you are heading out for the night you run into John in the hallway again. 

You are astounded when he is first to greet you. "Y/n."

"Hi, John." You can't help but feel the contrast to the way you used to play this game. You feel the loss of innocence, of your humanity, so keenly when you see him. You'd be a liar if you said the sight of his stupid, handsome face didn't still move you. The loss of what might have been...hurts, like a half-healed wound with a finger in it. You haven't been avoiding him, per se...but seeing him still ties you up in knots in a way you don't necessarily like. 

"You look...nice." You glance down at your dark low-cut dress and leather jacket. Bar bait chic. It's quite a shift, from the sweet floral sundresses and bright colors you once favored. 

"I was just popping out for a bite to eat."

"Yeah?" He is looking at you with an intensity that makes you squirm a little inside. A look that a vampire does not like, on the receiving end from a demon hunter. "How's that...going for you?" 

"Fine."

He looks around the hallway for potential eavesdroppers. You already know it's vacant. Your hearing was excellent on the night you were Born to Darkness, and it's only improved from there. 

"Fine?"

You cross your arms with a look of what the fuck else do you expect me to say out here?

Constantine makes an annoyed sound that's almost a growl. 

You shouldn't find it as endearing as you still do. 

“Come talk to me a minute?” he invites, nodding towards his apartment. 

Remembering all the crosses and weapons he has stashed in there, you're not too keen to go, in case he's decided letting you live your undead life was an oversight. 

You wrinkle your nose like you’ve smelled something bad. "You can come talk to me in here," you counter, nodding towards your own space. 

He smirks at you, as though he knows very well the cause for your caution. “Sure,” he agrees, cocky as ever. John Constantine isn’t afraid to walk unarmed into the lair of a baby vamp like you.

You unlock your door again, ushering him in with a wave. As he steps inside you are struck again by how big he is in your tiny apartment. A wave of nostalgia hits you, for a night when you'd still been human, and he'd made you feel like you were the most desirable woman in the world.

Suddenly, your throat is tight.

Wow. Who knew you could still feel these things as a creature of the night? You’ve been so focused on your day to day, or night to night, as it were. You never really allowed yourself to process everything that had happened. You were too busy figuring out how the fuck to survive.

"Do you...want something to drink?" you ask, looking in your pantry. “Or perhaps can I interest you in some whole kernel corn?” Your perishable options have long gone by the wayside, but you still have alcohol, canned goods, and dry cereal. All together, not the most appetizing combination.

A snort of laughter escapes him at your attempt at humor, and he seats himself in one of your surviving kitchen chairs like he owns the place. "Sure. To the drink. Hold the vegetables."

You produce a bottle of Scotch that you may have bought with him in mind after your little tryst, and pour him a couple fingers.

"What about you?" he asks with a glitter of something in those obsidian dark eyes. Even with all your vampire senses, this man is still hard to read as a brick wall.  

You cant your head to look at him, curious what he’s about. That is when you realize... you smell desire. You hear the spike of his heartbeat, see the dilation of his pupils almost lost in the black of his irises. 

His only outward tell is the corner of his mouth curled up, but blood never lies.

You yourself would be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about the way he'd tasted that first night with a sharp longing. 

The sound of his pulse hammering in your ears makes you bold enough to ask, "Why, are you offering, John?"

He lifts one eyebrow nonchalantly, though the sound of his racing heart is sweet sweet music to your ears. 

"Maybe."

Cautious as a cat, you dare approach, a finger sliding along the surface of the table as you regard him curiously. Cool as ever, he leans back in his chair, man-spreading as he looks up at you. You stand between his legs, looking down at him with a new confidence, armed with the knowledge of his blood rushing double-time through his veins. 

He certainly hadn’t sought you out before this. Not once in the past few months has he even tried to check on you. At least, as far as you know.

He tilts his head up, returning your gaze. It’s impressive, really, how little he manages to show on the outside, while you can sense the rising roil of something brewing within him. Lust, you tell yourself. Anything more…would be wishful thinking, on your part.

You really should know better by now, but you still can’t help but carry a torch for this man, stupid little vampire that you are.

“A little warning: I’ve heard some hot shot High Table vampire hunter is in town from New York. You should be careful where you go to hunt.”

Your own heart thumps in your chest. Just the once. You don’t have a regular heartbeat anymore, unless you’ve just fed on someone.

“You worried about me, John?”

“As far as I've heard, you're keeping your nose clean, but I thought you should know."

So he has been keeping track of you. 

"I’m not exactly feasting on the blood of newborn babes."

He winces a little at that, as though you have invoked some long-buried memory. You suppose you cannot fathom the horrors this man has seen in his time battling the Darkness.

"Who are you feasting on?"

"Mostly assholes who deserve a lot worse than what I give them."

It's his turn to tilt his head as he looks up at you, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s. "What does that mean?"

"Do you really want to know?" you ask, propping a hand on your hip. What you really want to do is insinuate yourself into this man’s lap, but some sense of self-preservation holds you back.

"It's why I asked."

"Ok.” You start to tick your recent exploits off on your fingers. “I saved a girl from getting mugged and maybe worse the other day while she was walking to her car at night. Before that, I snacked on a date raper who tried to drug my drink. Before that, I broke up a domestic dispute and made the piece of shit husband disappear. Before that—"

Both of John’s dark eyebrows shoot up.

"Ok, Miss Vigilante Vamp. I get the picture." There's a gleam in his eye, and you almost think he might be proud of you? Or at least, amused. You should not care, of course, but his approval definitely tickles some long-buried little pleasure center in your brain. You always were a teacher’s pet type, for better or for worse. "You should be careful though. You could get hurt."

"By who?” you counter, knowing you sound cocky as hell. “This vampire hunter?” 

“I think you missed the part where I said he’s  High Table?”

“What does that mean?”

He gives you a look like you should know that, but you don’t know how or why you would.

“It means you don’t want to mess with him. I heard he’s here for the Master, but you don’t want to attract his attention.”

“The Master?” You are so confused.

Seemingly exasperated, he lifts his eyebrow at you. It kind of starts to piss you off. “I don’t know any other vampires, John.” And he certainly made no efforts before now to fill you in. 

“Look, just be careful, ok? Just because you’re a vampire now doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

It’s almost touching, that he’s worried about you. It would be, at least, if it didn’t sound so fucking much like mansplaining.

“A girl’s gotta eat, John.”

“Well…you coulda asked.”

You narrow your eyes down at him, knowing they flash a molten orange with your annoyance. The thing he said when you’d first woken as a vampire echoes in your mind, the way it has every night since. I guess they thought you meant something to me.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I told you I’d help you. You kinda disappeared on me after that.”  

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Thinking some distance might be a good thing after all, you turn to go, just to have his long fingers wrap around your wrist. “Wait—” 

You try to pull away, and he doesn’t let go, so you jerk him out of the chair like he’s a ragdoll. You find yourself in a pile on the floor with John Constantine’s solid weight half on top of you—not a horrible arrangement, truth be told, but the context is less than ideal.

“Jesus. Easy there, tiger.”

The fact that this man has the gall to needle you, after everything that has happened, suddenly fills you with white-hot heat, like gasoline on a fire. You’ve been bottling it up for months, just shoving it down so you can do what you have to do, but now everything bubbles to the surface with a vengeance. Suddenly, you are sitting on him, a clawed finger pointing into his chest. “You asshole. I got turned into this thing that I am because of you, because I was stupid enough to care about you, but I was supposed to be the one knocking on your door for a handout? I bet you would have just loved it, if I came crawling back to you for another taste.”

It’s just so fucking unfair.

That you can still feel so much for this man, and maybe he desires you back, but outside of that there’s just nothing. You’re sure of it. It shouldn’t matter to you anymore but it does and it hurts. Jesus fucking Christ it hurts.

You feel too much.

You’ve always felt too much, as a human, and now as a monster, apparently, and it sucks. You feel the sting of tears filling your eyes, and you know they look like blood to him and it’s just so gross you could scream.

“Tell me how to do it,” you hiss through the aching lump in your throat. “How do I feel nothing like you, because I’m so tired of this.”

Constantine’s frown is utterly thunderous below you. You guess it’s a real buzz kill, when people—monsters—emote all over you. He says nothing, just glares back up at you, breathing heavily through his nose.

Only later will it occur to you what a miracle it was, that he didn’t go for his cross, or a holy gun, or gold knuckles, with a spitting mad vampire perched on top of him. He really does have nerves of steel.

Only when you notice a small dot of blood blooming on his white shirt beneath your razor-sharp fingernail you let up, clenching your clawed fists at your sides.  

“Sorry,” you half-snarl, closing your eyes against everything. But now the scent of blood is in the air. His blood, and it is just as intoxicating as you remember from before, and a powerful, prickling heat rises within you, spreading out to him too. Every hair on his body lifts, and you wonder if he reacts to you this way because of his psychic abilities, or if…it’s just the chemistry between you. Some of the tension in his frame softens—other parts of him decidedly do not.

“My life is dangerous, y/n. What happened to you is exactly the reason I don’t have many friends.”

Or lovers, hangs unsaid in the air.

“Yeah. Well…too late for me, I guess. What’s the worst that can happen now?”

“You never want to challenge God like that. Believe me.”

“Why do you sound so certain it’s God who makes bad things happen?”

He snorts derisively. “Because as far as I can tell, he’s an even bigger asshole than I am.”

You look away, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “I’m sorry I called you that.”

Surprisingly he turns your gaze back to him with a finger on your chin. “It’s ok. The shoe fits.”

You get the sense that this is his way of apologizing…maybe, and the last of your anger leaks from your body. You nod, and close your eyes, and one of those bloody tears escapes to make its way down the curve of your cheek. No one is more surprised than you, when he reaches up to wipe it away.

“For what it’s worth…you’re not bad, for a vampire.” Coming from him, that’s quite the declaration. Again, you’re not proud of what it does to you, to receive praise from this man who usually keeps so aloof. 

You dare to open your eyes, your vision sharpening upon him, your vampire senses keen to detect a lie. You can tell he’s a little excited beneath his cool façade, but it doesn’t feel like he’s lying to you. That has a certain smell. A pheromone maybe, or a stink of fear of getting caught.

“Yeah?”

He sits up, so that you are cradled on his lap, nearly nose to nose, and you can’t help but be painfully aware, groin to groin. He’s so tall, and broad, and you still want to climb him like a tree. Another wave of that titillating energy rises in you, a mix of hunger and desire. You know he feels it too. You can tell by the way his eyelids half-close, his grip tightening momentarily on your thighs.

It’s not a horrible development, truth be told.  

“Yeah.”

“Even though I scare you?”

“Let’s go with…yes and no, on that,” he answers with a quirk of the side of his mouth.

“Hmm. You know, it’s hard to lie to a vampire?”

“Can’t say I usually spend much time conversing.” He cups your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair—and you’re not sure you really want to converse anymore either. “I was giving you space—guess I should have kicked down your door.”

“You could have just…knocked,” you tell him with narrowed eyes, smiling in spite of yourself. You feel your teeth pressing into your lips—and you shut your mouth again.

“I know they’re there,” he teases you, surprisingly gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. “You don’t have to hide them.”

You close your eyes again, sighing. “I just…feel like such a monster.” 

Again his long fingers slide through your hair, like he’s petting you. It does things to you, to be stroked like a favored pet by this man. 

“You’re not a monster.” You clench your fists, so moved to hear him say it. And as you do, you can feel your claws biting into your palms. You lift your hands so he can see them. 

“No?”

He examines them, seemingly nonplussed. You guess he’s seen bigger and sharper. “No,” he asserts again. 

Your eyes flick down to the little bloodstain upon his nice white shirt. “I made you bleed.” 

“I probably deserved it,” he excuses with that smirk that pulls at your undead heartstrings. “Keep going like you are, you might get to Heaven before I do.”

“John…” you sigh, a wave of emotion sweeping through you that you can’t even name. “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“Me? Nice?” Again, that barely discernible purse of lips, the suppression of a smile that would give him away. 

You find yourself staring at his mouth, before forcing your eyes up to meet his once again. You don’t do it on purpose, but the power of your hunger fills you like a cup, spilling over into him where your bodies touch. This time he gives in to that tingling wave of treacherous pleasure, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him without a fight. Longing throbs in your loins, and hunger in your belly. They really feel one and the same, in this man’s arms.

“You’re…getting good at that,” he tells you, his voice low and gravely with desire.

“It just…happens, with you,” you’re almost reluctant to admit.

He smirks, the way you just knew he would, the smug bastard. “Just with me, huh?”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling. This man.

His low chuckle should not inspire such a thrill inside you. His strong arm looped around your waist, pulling you harder against him, does not help either.

Your claws have retracted again, and you run your hand up the flat of his chest, fingering the starched collar of his white shirt. You are gratified to receive a shuddering sigh as your touch moves higher, caressing the jumping pulse in his neck longingly.

“Bar’s open,” he offers.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you go about undoing his tie, carefully loosening the knot, resisting the urge to tear it off of him. You’ve learned a little bit more about how to control your hunger now, but it’s all still so new. You wonder if you can use it to make this, whatever this is, last longer than the frenzied chaotic rush it was last time.

“Did you miss me, John?”

He doesn’t answer you, just makes a sound low in his throat and leans in to kiss you instead, and with his soft mouth on yours you are content to let it go for now.

Maybe if you read between the lines, it’s answer enough anyway.

It’s a little funny, that the two of you never really make it up off the floor. Wrapped up in the wonderful, heady power that is your hunger, amplified by mutual desire, you are content to shed clothing and trade appreciative caresses there on the rug. You had not forgotten how beautiful this man is, the feeling of his warm muscled flesh beneath your questing hands, and yet still it somehow surprises you.

He makes a face as he pushes your jacket from your shoulders, tossing it unnecessarily far across the room. “You don’t like it?” you tease breathily.

“It doesn’t suit you,” he admits, and goes for your dress next, pulling it up over your head. He stares down at the skin he bared, your lacy push-up bra. He’s kinder to the dress, but maybe just because he’s distracted, ducking to kiss the soft mounds of your breasts.

The glitter in his dark eyes as you extricate his belt from between your pressed bodies should be illegal, it’s so intoxicating. With a hand on his bare chest you press him down to lay back on the floor. He does not fight you, looking up at you with that signature smirk that makes your blood boil. Rolling your hips against his straining erection between you wipes some of the smug off his expression, replacing it with a raw need.

With careful fingers you unbutton his pants and extricate him into the palm of your hand, his velvety length almost searing hot against your cool grip. Your undead body hungers for the warmth of his life, absorbing it anywhere you touch. His nerve falters a little, as he watches your fanged mouth descend towards his swollen manhood, his eyes widening just a bit. It’s your turn to smirk up at him.

“I haven’t tried this yet, John. I’d be very still, if I were you.”

He doesn’t tell you to stop, and the sound he makes as you descend on his hard cock with your silken tongue isn’t pain. In fact, it’s extremely gratifying. You are careful, and as you work him up and down with your mouth he trembles with the effort not to move beneath you. When his fingers tangle in your hair you moan against him, winning a twitch of his hips that would have made you smile, had your mouth not been so very full. You withdraw with a pop that makes him growl with pleasure beneath you. “Fuck, y/n...”

He tries to sit up to reach for you, but you pin him down again with one hand, tilting your head with a playful look down on him. The heated frustration in his narrowed eyes is rather priceless. Maybe you’ll pay for this later, but the predator’s instinct in you is enjoying this immensely.

Too impatient to take them off, you pull your panties to the side to sink onto his beautiful cock, his thick head pushing past your entrance rocking your head back with ecstasy. “John…” you sigh, moving your hips up and down, until he’s seated fully inside you, bottoming out against your cervix. It doesn’t hurt, like it once did. You are learning all kinds of things about your new vampire body.

“I would have returned the favor,” he rasps, his head rocking back hard into the floor as you carefully squeeze him inside you, conscientious of your new strength. It wins you a gratifying moan, his eyes drifting closed.

“Next time,” you answer cheekily. If he can’t admit that he missed you—then you’ll be damned if you say it first, even if it is the truth.  

You look down, fascinated by the sight of his big hands on your thighs, his strong fingers pressing into your flesh. The whip-cord muscles of his forearms draws your eyes, to the curve of his bicep and the sweep of his collarbone—your attention fixes on the jumping vein in his neck like a laser. 

You lean down to lick his pulse and he tilts his head, baring his neck for you. You know that part of it is him riding the power that crackles between you, but another part–it feels like a gesture of trust, and somehow that warms your undead heart. The razor-sharp tips of your fangs brush his pulse, winning you a sigh. “Do it,” he moans, surging inside you, lifting you with his hips. It’s all too much to resist, and with trembling caution you slide your fingers into his hair, and press your teeth into his pale skin.

The resulting rush of blood filing your mouth is intoxicating–by the sounds he makes, not just for you. The rush of pleasure across your tongue and in your loins is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, an exhilarating bliss that spreads warmth through every nerve across your skin.  

You’ve always thought of lovemaking as some kind of small miracle–a gift the laughing gods bestowed upon you poor mortals to make all the drudgery of life somehow bearable. A scientist might argue it is a trick of hormones and synapses played by nature, to encourage the endless march of procreation. You wonder what Constantine thinks about it, this man who so clearly believes in The Almighty God, but also seems to find the deity an insufferable asshat. 

A less than charitable philosopher might argue this beguiling euphoria is just the lure a vampire could use to secure a good meal–but like this, with this man–you cannot help but think it’s more. Whatever ancient magic that animates you, and maybe his own powers mingled too, it grants you this boon in what could be a life of infinite nights of lonely darkness, this undeniable connection with a special human whose lifeblood nourishes you. 

You are not even sure what to call the pinnacle of this pure shining ecstasy you share–orgasm seems too paltry a word. Pleasure, pale by comparison. John insists you are no creature of God, but you cannot help but reason that what you share together is nothing less than divine rapture.

The challenge is when to stop. 

For as long as you pull draught after draught of his delectable hot blood into your mouth, this bliss goes on and on. 

He starts to fade beneath you, his heart slowing. You could drain him dry like this, and maybe not care until the moment you realized he was dead in your arms. This is the thing that throws you back from your latchpoint upon his neck, woozy from the delight of it all, yet scared that you may have hurt him. 

He too seems drunk beneath you, looking up at you through hooded dark eyes. “Why’d you stop?” he asks dreamily. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen this man. You touch his cheek; you are not sure if the coolness of his skin is due to blood loss, or the fact that you feel almost feverish at the moment, riding the high of the blood magic you invoked with him. 

If you hurt him you are walking out into the sunlight, you promise yourself with panic. 

“I’m afraid I took too much,” you admit, wide-eyed. 

Of course, he scoffs at the very idea. “I’m fine. C’mere.” He pulls you down on top of him, to snuggle, you presume. The wonders of this evening do not cease. It is lovely, to curl up in his arms, your thighs slick with the excess of his seed. But as he dozes, you are wide awake, the world come even more alive around you. A potent meal, the magician makes. You feel as though you can sense the whole city in your head. The comings and goings of all the people, and all the creatures, and the planes and trains and cars. 

What a marvel, is this modern age. 

You sift through them all as an amusement, catching snatches of thoughts and bits of conversations, eavesdropping on their lives. 

You realize that you have never been able to read John Constantine’s thoughts. You wonder if it’s because of his psychic abilities–or just a result of his abnormally hard head. 

As you make this little psychic tour around the inhabitants of L.A.--something senses you back. You feel it push against your mind, holding you at arm’s length. Something old, and seething. For a flash you see it–him. Definitely a him, tall and forbiddingly handsome, bearded and raven haired. His eyes flash molten orange–right before he strikes you. It is only a psychic blow but you feel it like a fist between the eyes. It makes your physical body jolt in John’s arms. This stirs him from his bliss-induced coma; the demon-hunting magician blinks and looks up at you, taking in your wild-eyed look, your fangs bared to some invisible threat. 

“You ok, baby vamp?” he grumbles, not too happy to be disturbed from his deep rest.

“Fine,” you answer, unsure if it’s true. “I think I need to get you something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” he grouses, closing his eyes again. “Tired.” 

“Would you like to lay down in the actual bed?” you ask, thinking he will regret this hard pallet tomorrow. 

“No.” Now you can tell he’s just being stubborn. You would like to stay and cuddle with him, but you really are afraid he needs to eat and drink. Fluids and iron rich foods, is what you googled for after-care of donating blood, a while ago.

Funny, until now, you hadn’t had occasion to use the knowledge. 

You dress and pop out to the 24 hour market, obtaining red meat and dark leafy vegetables. When you return John has reclaimed his boxers and stretched his long body out on the couch, his big feet hanging off the end. It’s ridiculously endearing, to see him so relaxed in your space like this. 

When you are nearly done preparing his stir fry dinner, he finally rises to a sitting position, scrubbing at his face with his hands. 

It’s silly, how much it pleases you, when he wraps his arms around you from behind at the stove, his chin resting on your head.  “A vampire who cooks. This is one for the record books.”

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten how,” you fire back over your shoulder, amused. “It just…doesn’t really smell like food to me anymore.” The bloody bits of raw steak had seemed more appetizing than the ingredients in their current form.  

“Hmm. Smells good to me.” You thought he’d come round to food. “This does too though,” he teases, kissing your neck with a playfulness that leaves you dumbfounded. When he nibbles you can’t help but squirm, laughing out loud. 

“John!”

He must still be power drunk from earlier. He’d barely touched his glass of Scotch.

You feel his body shake with mirth behind you, more than hear it out loud. Then he stills against you, resting his chin on you again while you stir the meat and vegetables, the rice steaming on the back burner. You know it won’t last past tonight, but the scene is so damn near domestic it makes your heart ache. 

“What did I feel, earlier?” he asks. “Like, a gust of air in here. Did I dream it?”

You honestly aren’t sure how to answer that. It’s not that he wouldn’t believe you. You just…don’t have the language–and you don’t want to worry him. 

“I don’t know, I was half asleep,” you say, so smooth in your white lie, craning your neck back for a kiss. “Sit down. It’s your turn to eat.” 

As you bring John his plate of food your attention is drawn to the window, by what you’re not really sure. Nothing is there, you see nothing, you feel nothing present–and yet…you cannot shake the sensation that you are being watched. 

Almost as though to assure yourself, you reach out to brush an unruly dark lock of John’s hair behind his ear. He looks up at you with a lazy, almost boyish smile. It squeezes your heart. “Thanks.” You’re pretty sure he means for the food, but maybe…the rest too. 

You smile, and you know it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He seems to sense something is up, but maybe he doesn’t want to wreck the moment yet either. He catches your hand, kissing the back of it, before picking up his fork and tucking in. 

Again, you look to the window, and the mean city beyond it, and wonder how many malevolent things out there could mean the two of you ill.  You don’t think you have too many enemies of your own yet–but in John’s case? 

The number could be infinite.