#and then he promises to fix it as cops take him away.

[tacagen]

we know barry caught thawne endangering people's lives just to play hero when they first met. but how exactly did that happen? and a better question, did thawne even try to hide it, considering he only ever saw that as a form of worship and honoring barry's legacy as the flash? so, did he just casually mention this fact? did he try to arrange another one with barry present or worse, personally offer him to arrange/avert it together? imagine you meet this guy, your fan from the future who got himself powers just like yours and wears your old suit and at first hes like. okay. you two spend the day together. everything seems to be more than fine, you two are genuinely fascinated with each other. you discuss the speed force stuff. you quote your father's watches engraving in an attempt to support him as the night sets in. and then out of the blue this mf says 'hey wanna save some people together?? i have the fire scheduled in five minutes from now'.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry– Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

[sweets3rial]

sunlight kisses and featherlight touches

inspired by this request

re2!leon x fem!reader

summary: leons kindness has always been abused. in so many eyes, he's still a naive rookie who doesn't know better. he figures his life would always be that way until he met you...the barista who worked at the smoothie place down the street from his base.

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, a little post re2, non-canon, leon is hopelessly in love, krauser mentioned, mentions of bruises and scars, over worried reader, friends to lovers (?), established relationship, promise rings, virginity loss, insecure reader/reassuring leon, smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it ya'll)

word count: 5.8k (srry i got carried away)

there was one word to describe him. he was simply a gentleman, kind and soft. his manners were sharp as a knife and he knew how to take orders like any other good cop. though, his kindness and sweet smile were looked down upon. 

others figured him weak and easy to step on, but in a way he was. he hated talking back, and he hated disappointing people, that’s why he always put himself on the line for others. which is how he got a bullet scar on his left shoulder. he is willing to do that just because that’s how he was raised. 

but when is he going to start putting himself before others? 

when is he going to forget the hole that is left in his heart?

it was you. you were the answer to his every question. his every doubt and his every want. the minute your eyes met his baby blue ones there was an instant connection. he had a small cut on his cheek and another on his lip. 

you smiled up at him with a gleam in your eyes, leaning over the counter enthusiastically as you greeted him to take down his order. Leon didn’t really favor fruity drinks but he began to like them because of you. well, he only got them to see you. 

over a few weeks, he slowly memorized your work schedule at the small cafe and would walk in at the beginning of your shift. you’d greet him with the same smile every time, you knew his order by heart, and you knew the sound of his footsteps by memory. 

slowly, he was beginning to make more time in his day to go and see you. his visits were prolonged, he’d take his drink and go to sit down in the corner of the small cafe just so he could watch you work. 

he’d lean his head onto his hand, slowly sipping away at the smoothie in his hands as he watched you bounce around. every now and then, you would trail your gaze back over to him and shoot him a warm smile. 

seeing him sitting there watching you intently made your heart flutter but it also made you terribly nervous. you were constantly fixing your hair and checking in your pocket mirror to make sure you looked okay for the blonde in the corner. 

you tried so hard not to look at him so often but how could you? he was looking at you so deeply with those blue eyes of his. he sat right by the large window, where the sun could perfectly cascade down onto him.

his blonde hair would begin to glow on his head like an angel's halo, shadows cast down onto his sharp features, and the sun glinting off his perfectly white teeth. how can anyone be so beautiful? 

at the end of your shift, he’d walk you home. ignoring the ache in his muscles with each step. there he goes again, risking his health for someone. but it wasn’t just anyone, it was you. he was willing to walk beside you even if his legs were broken. 

but his winces of pain didn’t escape your ears. 

“Leon, are you hurt?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks and placing two hands on his shoulders. he shook his head, his blonde hair sweeping over his forehead. 

“no, no, i’m fine just sore.” he shot you a smile to reassure you but you weren’t convinced. 

it’s not like you couldn’t see the bruises on his skin when he’d walk in or the new cuts appearing on his arms and face every other week. you were worried. who in God's name was hurting him like that?

you’ve asked a few times but he shrugged it off with excuses like, ‘i was wrestling with my friend’’, the neighbor's cat got to him’, or ‘he fell’. when in reality he was being trained to become one of the best government agents of all time. 

“i don’t believe you, sit.” you demanded him. he shook his head, refusing. 

“no, i have to take you home.” 

you shoved him onto the bench behind you two, being sure not to hurt him. 

“no, i’ll get us a taxi that’ll take us both home.” 

he reached out for you, taking hold of your wrist before you could walk away to wave down a taxi. he brought you close to him, spreading his legs so you could step between him. you stayed silent, looking down into his eyes and now you could finally see it. 

the pain he’s been hiding for so long. your heart ached at the look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. he was tired and deeply hurt, you don’t know what and you didn’t bother to ask. you just swept the hair from out of his eyes and cupped his cheek. 

“okay, just rest.” 

his arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head into your stomach with a heavy sigh. his muscles were finally relaxed and his heavy eyelids were finally able to close. even if you two were in the middle of a busy street, you didn’t care. 

you knew he needed this. you brought your hand to the top of his head, slowly smoothing out his hair down to the back of his neck and then rubbing the nape of his neck to get rid of any tension. he listened to the sound of you taking deep breaths and then letting them out and smiling at the sound of your gurgling stomach.

it was a comforting sound, your touch was comforting as well. if you two weren’t out in the open in the middle of a cold night, he would’ve fallen asleep right then and there. he was very close though. 

your touch was so comforting. it wasn’t a punch or a blade. it wasn’t a shove or a kick. it was soft and warm. 

“is he alright?”

“yeah, he is! just sleepy.” 

your voice was soothing, calm, and welcoming. 

it was then that Leon realized that he was very much falling for you. he couldn’t get enough. after walking you home that night, he slept so peacefully back in his small dorm. after that day, his affection became more apparent to you. his touches would linger and his eyes would travel towards your lips. 

you’d catch him silently staring at you and the blush on his cheeks rising up from his neck. 

it didn’t take you long to catch feelings either. perhaps, the feelings were always there from the very moment you met him. he was always on your mind, you always worried for him, and you missed him when he wasn’t around. 

one night, he was walking you home. you both were walking at a very slow pace, neither of you wanting to say your goodbyes yet. 

“Leon?” you asked him, turning towards him and looking up into his eyes. you wanted him to know that you were serious. 

“what’s up? you okay? you cold?” he was always so sweet, and so caring. it made you all fuzzy inside.

“i’m okay,” you smiled at him, a small laugh slipping past your lips. “it’s just,” you stopped in your tracks which halted his own, he stepped in front of you placing his hands on your forearms and rubbing up and down. 

“hey, you okay?”

you stayed quiet and looked up at him, your heart hurt every time you could see a new bruise forming on his face or his neck and arms. you just wanted to kiss his scars away and hug him tight. 

“i want you to know that i’m always here for you and that i’m just a call away if you ever need me,” 

his hands slowed and paused at your elbows, his eyes went from worry to relief and then to a soft and kind look. slightly widening as his eyebrows upturned. 

“i don’t know, who’s giving you all these bruises but i’m here if you need me.” you sighed, rocking from heel to toe. 

training was rough. it nearly killed him every day and seeing you were the only good part of his days. but hearing those words from you eased his every worry. he knew he could rely on you but he didn’t want to be a burden. 

he never wanted to make you worry about him because you have so many more things to worry about. but you don’t believe that, sure bills and rent are a huge stress but knowing the person you love is in pain is even more of a stab in the heart. 

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he smiled, bringing you in for a very much-needed hug. you hugged him back instantly, practically squeezing him with all of your strength. 

“but i do,” you spoke, your words muffled into the material of his crew neck. 

you looked up at him, digging your chin into his chest. he looked back down at you and his heart was filled with so much love. god, he’s in love. 

he made it a goal that once he finished training, he was to ask you out. that he was going to ask you on a nice date. 

a steak dinner with wine and smooth jazz. he’d wear his finest suit and you’d wear your most gorgeous dress. he’d hold your hand, look into your eyes, and he'd ask you to be his. 

but who knew that the moment he finished training he was set off on his very first mission. he was terrified. again, he was a rookie stepping into an arena so foreign to him. 

he had Krauser and others by his side to keep him afloat but it was every man to themselves out here. 

he got back home safely, just a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist no biggie. so he instantly made his way to your condo, it had to be today. 

the week-old flowers sat in the passenger seat of his car, pretty much dead but some were still okay. the box of your favorite chocolates he planned to give you was now warm and probably melted but it had to be today. 

you were worried sick. Leon didn’t come to visit you at work few the past few days, you called and texted his cell but no prevail. your messages were unread and your calls went straight to voicemail. you left a dozen of messages.

each one getting more and more panicked. he told you he finished training so where in the hell did he disappear to?

your prayers were answered by multiple rings at your doorbell and a rhythmic knock at your door. you knew it was him, he was the only one that knocked with that tune. you swung the covers off of your lap and ran out of your bedroom, your feet sliding on the hardwood floors. 

you were quick to undo the multiple locks on the door before swinging the door open to see him. 

you were instantly put at ease at the sight of his face but then you saw a sling on his arm and a cast on his wrist. 

“Leon! what happene-“

before you could spit out another word, he brought his good arm from behind his back revealing a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates. 

“will you be my girlfriend?” he stammered out, “or would you let me be your boyfriend? um-“ 

you gave him an answer by throwing yourself at him. wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close to you, crushing the flowers in the process. 

“yes yes! of course i will!” you smiled into his chest. the smell of his cologne brought ease to your heart but you could also smell antiseptic on him which reminded you that he was hurt. 

you pulled away and looked up at his face, a bandage covering a cut on his cheek and his lip swollen from a cut. 

“my god! what happened to you?” you cupped his cheek, swiping your thumb over the small bandage. 

you led him inside, frantically taking the flowers and chocolates from him and placing them down on the kitchen table. you rushed back over to him, helping him stand upright as he slipped off his shoes. 

“i’m sorry to come over so late and to ask you out like that i,” he sighed, “i had a plan, a nice dinner and romance but i had work last minu-“

before he could say another thing, your lips were on his. your lips hit his teeth at first but once he got a motion of what was going on he was quick to reciprocate. he sighed into your lips and instantly melted into your embrace. 

his lips were soft and warm, you could feel his cut now scabbed up brushing against your bottom lip but you didn’t care. you’ve waited for this moment for so so long. 

you both pulled away with a slow smack and you kept your hand on his cheek, “dinner or not, you’re all i need.” you said to him with a smile. 

you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. both sadness and happiness. you were sad that he was hurt but you were happy he was here. even though he should be resting instead of hauling his ass to your doorstep. 

“thank you,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. he could get used to this, kissing you and holding you close. he could get used to your kindness and care, finally you see him for him. 

that night he told you a fraction of why he had so many bruises, how he was training to become something big and how he finally went out onto his first mission. 

and you learned throughout the first few months of your relationship that this was a regular thing. his missions were tough but you knew he was strong, you knew he would always come back to you and he knew that you’d be waiting there with open arms. 

Leon made sure to spoil you, with flowers every time he came over, and your favorite snacks. simple date nights that consisted of takeout and movies. it was the small things that counted for you. 

you always told him you never needed fancy dinners and the best luxurious clothes and shoes. all you needed was him. 

you made him feel special and more than he thought he was capable of feeling. 

though tonight was special. you come home to all your lights off and the smell of vanilla wafting in the air. 

“Leon?” you called out, placing the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table. a flickering orange light brought you to the living room and you were shocked to see that the fireplace had been lit, the coffee table had been moved, and replaced with a large blanket. 

pillows and candles, snacks and food, and especially Leon. 

he stood in the middle of the room, looking at you with a large smile on his face. 

“babe, what is this?” you smiled at him, your cheeks aching. 

“happy six-month anniversary baby,” he chuckled, walking over to you. 

he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, cupping your jaw and holding you close, slowly swaying you back and forth in his hold. your knees went weak at his touch and at the feeling of his tongue slotting with yours. 

you pulled away, biting down on your lip as you looked at the scenery in front of you. 

the fireplace gave the room a romantic aura, the hues of orange and red along with the cracking of fire wood and the whipping of high flames. the candles were your favorite scent, wafting in the air around you along with the smell of chinese takeout and chocolate covered strawberries. 

“oh honey,” you looked back over to him, smiling at him with your eyes. god you could marry him right now. “i thought you had work today,” you gasped at him, swatting his chest playfully. 

he rocked you back and forth, leaning down and touching his nose with yours, “i lied, i’m sorry baby.” 

“mmm,” you hummed before placing a kiss onto his lips, “i forgive you.” 

he lead you over into the middle of the blanket, guiding you to sit down and take a look at all the little small gifts he prepared for you.

a record of your favorite album from your favorite artists. little small gummies. a new pair of fluffy socks. a few hair accesories. and a velvet box.

you looked over at him, trembling with anticipation. 

“open it!” he chuckled, growing impatient and snuggling into your side, watching you intently as you opened it. inside was a small ring paired with a chain. 

“it’s a promise ring,” he slowly took the box from you and slid the ring out from its wedge. 

“i promise to be your love forever, i promise to treat you right, i promise to be loyal and faithful,” he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit. 

he took your ring measurement one night when you were sleeping. 

“i promise to be the perfect boyfriend to you and future husband,” he smiled, his eyes looking into yours as he placed a kiss over the cold ring that was slowly being warmed up by your body heat. 

"and lastly, i promise to forever be yours."

your heart was filled with so much love, you couldn’t express it into words how thankful you were for him. he was a gentlemen. even if he was hurt, his muscles sore and bruises decorating his fair skin, he made sure to walk you home. 

even with his busy schedule and demanding job, he made time for you and your relationship. 

“i love you,” you told him. it was your first time ever saying those words to him, it took you long enough but you’re here now. 

“i love you so much more,” he tackled you down onto the floor with a deep kiss, teeth clashing into each other and noses squishing together. you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him close to you.  

there was much more to this kiss, much more than passion and drive. there was hunger and longing. his hands trailed underneath your his crewneck, caressing your sides. you arched into his touch, opening your mouth to him and giving him permission to run his tongue over yours. 

you moaned at his taste, the taste of sweet and tangy strawberry and you felt hot underneath his touch. but then he pulled away. 

“i’m sorry, i got a little ahead of myself,” he laughed nervously as he pressed his forehead against yours. you licked your lips and shook your head. 

“it’s okay, i’m … i’m ready.” you whispered to him. 

you watched his adams apple bob as he gulped a lump down his throat. you two have been putting off sex for so long all because he didn’t want to hurt you and you were scared at first. but now, you’re sure. 

you knew in your heart and in your soul that Leon was the one. he’s patient and loving, he’s never once overstepped your boundaries or made you feel like complete shit. 

“are you sure? i don’t … i don’t want to hurt you.” he whispered to you, reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“i’m sure,” you squirmed beneath him a bit, “i want it.” 

he nodded his head, “i don’t know if i’ll last long,” he said with a breathy laugh. 

you reassured him by shaking your head, “that’s fine, i just want you.” 

“okay.” 

he was excited but also very cautious. his kisses were slow and tender, his touch gentle and soft. his hands made their way back up under your sweatshirt and he practically moaned into your mouth when he could feel you had no bra on. 

he tested the waters by sliding a finger over your erect nipple, eliciting a small moan from the back of your throat. his cock jumped at the way you struggled to kiss him back.

his slow touched were setting you off, they felt so good and your whole entire body ached for him. 

his hand left your breast, and he pulled away from your lips. 

“i’m going to take this off now, is that okay?” he was out of breath, breathing heavily onto your mouth and looking only at your face. 

you nodded, heart thrumming in your chest at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt. 

“i’m going to need your words, babe.” 

“you can take it off.” 

he nodded, slowly lifting the hem of your sweatshirt over your head, lazily throwing it to the side and onto the couch behind you two. when he looked back down you were covering your breasts with one arm while you were propped up on the other. 

there was a blush on your cheeks and your eyes were avoiding his. part of the reason you were scared to have sex with Leon was because you were afraid he wasn’t going to like it or like you.

your body wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t like a supermodel. you had stretchmarks and cellulite. 

“hey,” he sighed out, leaning back over you. he placed a hand onto your arm, slowly rubbing his calloused finger over your skin. 

“sorry,”

“no, don’t be sorry.” he placed a kiss on your lips, short but sweet. “you’re beautiful okay? you don’t ever have to hide yourself from me.” 

you smiled up at him and nodded slowly as you removed your arm from over your chest. he didn’t look at the way your breasts bounced, instead, he just looked deeply into your eyes, soothing you with his soft ones. 

he leaned down into your ear, whispering the words, “i’m so lucky to have you.” 

he placed a kiss below your ear and shivers ran down your body and fire ignited in your stomach. his kisses continued down your neck, his lips lightly sucking onto your skin to create little purple hickeys on your skin. 

you writhed underneath him, grinding yourself down onto his thigh slotted between your legs, you needed more. 

your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, pushing him closer to your skin and silently begging for more. 

testing the waters a bit, he scraped his teeth along your collarbone earning a small gasp from you. 

“does that feel okay?” 

“harder.”

“yes ma’am,”

he did it again, biting down a bit harder and something deep inside you relished in the sting and also in the fact that he was marking you as his. 

he continued to venture down your body, placing a soft kiss to your pebbled nipple. you liked that, a lot. his other hand worked with kneading your left breast while his mouth placed soft kisses on the other. 

“Leon, stop teasing me.” you arched your back, pushing your chest further against his lips. he chuckled against your skin, before running his tongue over your nipple and bringing it in between his lips. 

he gave it a soft suck earning a small moan to leave your lips and your thighs to clench around his own. 

he stood up onto his knees, leaving your tit with a pop. he reached for the hem of his own shirt and brought it over his head. his beauty never failed to amaze you, chiseled muscle and veins. braodness and brood. 

such a gentle face and such a godly body. 

he leaned back down over you, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. he needed you now more than ever, he was filled with more than just love for you but also deep hunger and eagerness. 

you itched for more of him, you knew he was being careful but you wanted more. you trusted Leon with your heart, body, and soul. you were willing to give yourself to him completely. 

you moaned into his mouth, loving the way he tasted and the heat of his kiss. dominating you, taking control, guiding you. 

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. you never knew you could crave someone so much as you crave Leon. you wanted more, more than he could possibly give you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts, his eyes asking permission to take them off. 

you nodded up at him with a gleam in your eyes. god he was beautiful. 

how could someone look so angelic, speak so elegantly, touch so softly, and love so purely? 

Leon wanted to cherish you. you were his first, he didn’t want to hurt you or make you hate him. he wanted to remember this night forever, tonight he wanted to give himself completely to you. he didn’t want to hide anymore. 

the hole that was left in his heart was no longer there because of you. his scars were healed and he could never be so thankful. 

you kicked off your shorts and your panties, now completely bare to him. even then, he didn’t let his eyes travel away from yours. those blue orbs of his spoke for him and soothed your every insecurity. 

you were aching for him, your cunt fluttered with need and your body itched to feel him. 

“let me know if you want to stop,” he said placing a kiss over your collarbone. 

“just say the words and i’ll stop,” he whispered huskily against your tit. you shook your head, eagerly watching as he made his way down your stomach with wet, open-mouthed kisses. 

you didn’t want him to stop, your stomach was doing flips with every kiss he placed on your skin and you felt light-headed. 

when his two calloused fingers made their way through your wet folds, shivers ran up your spine and your walls clenched around nothing. he was slowly testing the waters, rubbing over your clit gently as he kissed your abdomen. 

he looked up into your eyes, noticing the way your hips would buck when he focused on the small swollen bud. he circled his two fingers over your clit, watching you stutter to take a breath in. 

“more,” you breathed out. 

he moved his fingers away, prodding at your fluttering hole while his lips traveled down to kiss over your clit. you sucked in a small breath, looking down at him in between your legs. blonde hair sticking to your sweaty skin and hanging over his eyes. 

one of his muscular arms wrapped around your thigh, while the other was positioned between your legs, his fingers working slowly. 

“Leon, please…” you sighed, throwing your head back. 

he placed one last firm kiss over your clit, “okay, baby, i hear ya'."

he slowly sank his middle finger in between your folds, wet and hot. the slight stretch felt so good and so much bigger compared to yours. he curled his finger against your g-spot as his tongue flicked over your clit.

and god, he was addicted right then and there. sweet and salty with a bit of tang, he moaned into your clit as he added another finger inside of you. 

your thighs clenched around his head as your fingers pushed him deeper into you. his pace quickened, his fingers now thrusting in and out of you as his tongue flicked at your swollen clit. the wet slick sounds filled his ears along with your deep moans. 

you were dripping all over his fingers and tongue. he was beginning to grind his erection into the floor underneath him, his whole entire body was hot and itching with the need to be inside you. he’s never felt this way before, he was eager to make you come and even more eager for you to be his first. 

to see you stretched out for him with his name dripping like honey off of your lips. 

“more, please…” you moaned out to him. he was quick to obey, flattening his tongue over your cut and slowly flicking his tongue at your entrance. 

“that okay?” 

you nodded quickly, your insides were begging for more. 

he slowed down, reminding you to use your words. “yes! yes! that’s okay.” 

his tongue was hot and felt like heaven inside of you, lewd wet noises paired with the whines of his name. his arms came around your thighs again, holding your hips down as he eagerly fucked his tongue inside of you. 

wet and sloppy is how he’d describe it, but he was in heaven. he loved being suffocated by your thighs and your cunt, he could die just like this. he moaned into your heat, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head at the very taste of you. 

your legs began to tremble and the aching feeling inside your stomach was only getting tighter. you wanted to feel him, you wanted to feel him stretch you and touch those deepest parts inside of you. you were ready to fully give yourself to him. 

you were shy at first, scared even but now you were sure.

you tugged on his hair, prompting him to stop.

“you okay? is it too much?”

you shook your head, pulling him up towards you, “i need you.” you breathed out to him. he felt like the air in his lungs had been taken away, he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think either. hearing you say those words, with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, did something to him. 

he nodded, gulping a lump down his throat. he prayed to the gods above that he wasn’t going to finish the moment he slid himself inside of you. he prayed he was good enough. 

“okay,”

you eagerly brought him down to your lips, sucking on his already swollen bottom lip. he tasted like you and something about you kissing him right after he ate you out was so incredibly hot to him. he held himself above you as his other hand went to work his sweats off of his legs. 

you were trembling with excitement, so much to the point you were struggling to kiss him back. being so close to him like this, your sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex in the air, it was heaven on earth. 

a shiver shook through you as he pressed his length in between your folds, “oh my god,”

he was thick and heavy, you could feel the heat radiating off his cock and onto your clit. it was glorious. 

he slowly began to grind his hips into you, the tip of his cock pushing up against your clit in the most gentle way. it earned him a moan of his name, slipping from your lips and directly into his ear. 

he groaned above you, his eyebrows scrunching together and sucking the taste of you off his bottom lip. he looked down at where your bodies met, admiring the way your cunt lubricated his dick. oh yeah, he’s not going to last long. 

he looked back up at you, to see you looking where he was. your lips agape, sucking in small breaths, and your eyebrows upturned in pleasure. 

“you okay?” 

“yeah, it’s just …. intimidating.” 

he chuckled at your choice of words, leaning down and placing a deep, slow kiss on your lips. he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours, “let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

you nodded, lacing his fingers with yours as his other went to grab the base of his cock. carefully, he pressed his tip into you, his shoulders shuddering as he slowly sank into your heat. you were so wet and hot it was driving him crazy. 

you back arched into him as he slowly sank into you, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open in a gasp. it stung but felt so good. 

“oh my god, you’re amazing,” he gasped onto your lips, “so gorgeous,” he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

his hips flushed against yours, and finally, he was buried deep inside of you, kissing your cervix with his dripping tip. you could feel him everywhere, in your heart, your mind, and your soul. you looked into his eyes, your legs trembling and your walls clenching. 

“please, move.” you begged him. 

he nodded, he was still composing himself, trying to keep himself from coming right there and then. but slowly, his hips began to thrust. pulling out and sinking back in with a slow and languid pace. each thrust of his cock got less and less painful. 

and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting at a steady pace and you were moaning loudly into the air. your nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, dragging down his back to leave red lines all over his pale skin. 

“fuck!” you whined. 

he brought his free hand to your thigh, guiding it around his waist. his thigh moved to press down on your other leg, spreading you open for him — allowing him to fuck you deeper. your eyes shot open at the feeling of him hitting you deeper and your breath stuttered. 

he was so good, so perfect, everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“god Leon, that’s so good,” you moaned up to him. 

you were like a dream, this didn’t feel real to him but oh it was so real. you were all he’s ever wanted in a beautiful human form. everyone has abused his kindness, he was always a rookie who didn’t know better.  

to everyone in his life. all his past relationships, whether it was romantic or friendship, he spent sacrificing his goodwill. but you brought his smile back, you healed his scars, and filled the holes in his heart. you saw more than a rookie. you saw him for him.

that’s why he means it when he says:

“i love you,” his voice came out in a small moan. his abdomen was tight and he was struggling to hold on. "oh, i'm close"

“me too,” you told him. he nodded, bringing the hand on your thigh over to your swollen clit. rubbing slowly and putting just the right amount of pressure. 

you clenched around his throbbing cock, moaning out his name as your back arched off the ground. he took this chance to bring your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. 

you snapped, stars danced behind your eyes and the pressure inside of you finally ruptured. he wasn’t far behind, groaning out your name and then sinking himself deep into you to paint your walls with his hot seed. 

his dick jumped and kicked inside of you, his muscles taut and his hand squeezing around your own. 

both of you took a minute to catch your breaths, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily and holding you so tight. your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping his nestled inside of you, he’s never felt so safe in your embrace like this. 

“that was … amazing,” he spoke in between hot breaths. you chuckled, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead. 

he pulled away from the crook of your neck, looking up at you with every emotion swimming in the pools of his eyes. 

“i love you.” 

“i love you more.” 

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

[sematarygirls]

can you do rafe and reader matching Halloween costumes?

🎃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── you make rafe do a couple's costume !

   "This is the stupidest fuckin' idea you've ever had," Rafe grumbled begrudgingly as he stood in the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror to aid him in tying his tie.

"We look so cute!" you beamed, ignoring your grumpy boyfriend's dramatics. You had the bright idea that since it was your first Halloween together, it would be so cute to do a couple's costume. Of course, Rafe vehemently protested this idea because he thought he was too cool for Halloween and that dressing up was stupid and childish. The only part he liked of the season was the copious parties with scantily clad women in their sexy-fied costumes and free booze.

It took a great deal of begging and pleading (and a promise of lots of sex to make up for his trouble and lost street cred) for him to finally agree to dress up with you, but when he did, you were over the moon.

You had tons of different ideas. Rafe insisted on the whole cop and prisoner costume, but you shut him down, knowing he had ulterior motives. He just wanted an excuse to put you in handcuffs and have you at his side the entire night. You also considered Ghostface and Sidney Prescott, but you pocketed that idea for another time when finally, you thought of Morticia and Gomez Addams.

You knew Rafe would be more inclined since the costume mainly just consisted of a suit, which meant he wouldn't be dressing up as much as the other costumes demanded. Plus, you knew he'd never pass up the chance to see you in a black dress that hugged you in all the right places—he was a man after all.

His gaze flickered over to your reflection in the mirror, roaming your figure appreciatively. That dress was working for you, and the makeup you'd done to complete the look just made you look all the more sexy. "Why don't we just stay home, yeah?" He proposed. As good as the costume looked on you, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor.

You rolled your eyes at his entirely predictable suggestion. "I did not get all dressed up just to stay inside all night," you told him, pulling at his arm to turn him toward you, so you could fix his tie. "Besides," you glanced up at him, a smile tugging at your lipstick coated lips. "I want to show all your friends how whipped I've got you."

"I'll take this shit off right now," he threatened, but you knew he wouldn't dare, not when he was betting on you putting out tonight.

"Oh, cmon, don't be like that," you grinned, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. "Ah ah ah," you scolded, using your thumb to swipe away some lipstick that had transferred onto his lips. "You're gonna mess up my makeup."

"You just wait till tonight. I'm gonna mess up your makeup alright," he smirked, his eyes glinting with promise as his hands went to your hips, tugging you closer.

"Mhm," you giggled, planting your hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Keep it in your pants, pretty boy," you told him, turning back to the mirror to fix your smudged lipstick. He crossed his arms watching you intently, thinking of all the things he was going to do to you when you two got back from the Halloween party.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Bats Need Lives Too

Requested Here!

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x wife!reader

Summary: Bruce and the boys have bad days, and as their mom, it's your job to make them better.

Warnings: Bruce and Damian are on the autism spectrum, Jason jokes about dying, mentions of murder and Joker, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Masterlist Directory | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Photo from Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon (via Google)

A/N: I don't have autism so I based this depictions off research and common symptoms; if it's inaccurate, please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it!

“Bruce!” you yell from the top of the stairs. “Damian!”

You pause, but there’s no reply. Taking a step down, you hit the creaky stair that Bruce hasn’t fixed (for security purposes).

“Ma,” Jason greets as he comes up the stairs. “I’m going to go get some sleep. I told B and the demon brat to do the same, but you know them.”

You smile at his attempt to stay on your good side and wave him past as you wish him a good night. He has a room at the manor like all of the kids do, but it depends on their day and Bruce’s mood as to whether or not they use it.

“Bruce, honey,” you call again as you descend into the Batcave. “It’s time for bed. You too, Damian.”

“We’re almost finished,” Damian replies without looking away from the screen.

“Bruce,” you repeat firmly.

“Almost done,” he mumbles.

You look up toward Wanye Manor, then reach over Bruce’s shoulder to turn the computer monitors off. Damian huffs as Bruce continues to stare at the black screen.

“Boys,” you begin again, squatting between them with a hand on their shoulders. “I know you’re getting close, but you have to sleep. Especially you, Dami.”

Damian considers it for a moment, then nods. Bruce turns toward you slowly, and you smile when his eyes meet yours.

“I’ll hug you both until you agree to go upstairs if that’s what it takes,” you threaten.

That threat used to be more effective before Damian came to expect your hugs daily. Both he and Bruce, all of the Bats for that matter, tend to run from love, but you’ve become the loving mother they need, even when they don’t like it.

“Go to bed, get some sleep, eat some breakfast in the morning, and I promise Gotham will still be here when you’re ready to investigate more.”

Damian slips away from your hand and walks toward the stairs. He calls a weak, “Goodnight,” over his shoulder as you take his previous seat and look at Bruce. He looks tired, though you’ve come to expect it now.

“Bad day?” you murmur, gently taking his face in your hands.

“Will I always be two steps behind?” he asks against your palm.

“If you don’t stop to rest, you’ll be three steps behind,” you answer honestly.

“You’re supposed to say, no, love and light of my life, you’re doing great,” Bruce teases.

“And you’re supposed to listen to me. Now, are you going to bed with me, or shall I invite Goliath to keep your spot warm?”

“When did you become the bad cop?” Bruce asks as he pulls you up and against his chest.

“Since your children started acting just like you.”

“What will Alfred think?” Bruce asks dramatically.

“That he deserves five times as much vacation time now that there’s so many of you.”

When Damian’s teacher at Gotham Preparatory called you in for her concerns about Damian’s behavior, you took what she said seriously. You knew about Damian’s past and his family, of course; when she kindly suggested having him screened for autism, you already knew what the doctor would say. You’ve suspected for years that Bruce was on the spectrum, but having him or his children screened would be a Gotham Gazette headline and a press nightmare that you did not need. So, you did your own research on how to help your boys whenever they need it. Within a few days, Damian was interested in your new approach and set out to learn about the disorder with you.

“Dick told me it was impolite to call people disgraces, but disordered is acceptable?” Damian asked as he read an article on the screening process.

“The person isn’t disordered, Dami, it’s a neurological and developmental disorder. That just means the way you learn, and act isn’t the same as normal people,” you explained. “Though, personally, normal has always felt like more of an insult.”

Damian tutted in agreement before he continued reading, and you smiled as you flipped through a list of symptoms you’ve seen in the manor for years. Many of them had occurred before Damian came along.

“Hey!” Dick calls as he and Jason enter the manor. “So, gala tonight. Is it mandatory?”

“It is,” you answer with a sympathetic frown. “Though if you bring a date, I’d be more than happy to make up excuses for why you leave early.”

“That’s never gotten me out of patrol before,” Jason argues.

“Are you talking about when Poison Ivy doused you with her plant toxin?” you reply.

“I wanted to leave early with a date.”

“She would have killed you,” Dick interjects. “What is wrong with you?”

Jason shrugs as he uses his default answer of, “Died once.”

“That’s enough,” you stop them with a chuckle. “Yes, you have to come to the gala, but you don’t have to stay the whole time. Especially if you’d like to take Damian with you when you leave.”

“I thought he was doing better,” Jason says.

“He’s getting better at the social communication issues, but, you know, it’s Gotham and he’s got a social battery just like the rest of us.”

“Is that why you’ve been separating him and Bruce?” Dick asks.

“Just on the bad days. They need space and a chance to do something they actually like. It’s worked better than anything else, and then, when they’re ready, I force them to receive my love.”

Jason shudders dramatically before you direct them to see Alfred for their suits for the gala. Dick and Jason both hug you on their way out, and you sigh as you return your attention to a memo for Wayne Enterprises about Bruce’s upcoming sabbatical. He doesn’t know it’s coming, but he needs it, and you will make him take it.

The night after the gala, you roll over in bed and reach for Bruce. His side of the bed is empty, and you open your eyes after your arm meets the cold sheet where your husband should be. You swing your legs off the bed, reach for your robe, and sigh tiredly. Bruce has been running himself ragged recently. You know why, there’s been a string of murders and timed escapes from Arkham, but he can’t solve everything in a night sitting in the Batcave.

He's been Batman more than Bruce the last week, and it’s time for you to step in and intervene. The Batcave is cold at night, and you pull your robe tighter around you as you walk toward Bruce’s back. He’s still in his cape and cowl, and when you sit beside him, he glances over quickly but pointedly avoids your eyes. You lay your hand on his arm, but he rolls his shoulder and opens the same file for the third time since you arrived. He’s getting obsessive and repetitive, and if you don’t stop him now, he’ll get impulsive and get himself or one of your kids hurt.

“Bruce are you okay?” you ask softly.

Bruce stands quickly, knocking his chair over and letting your hand fall back to your lap. “Do I look okay?” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

You raise your hands but don’t speak. Bruce turns away quickly and reaches for the computer controls. Slowly, you stand and place your fingers over his wrist. Bruce slows but doesn’t stop or look at you.

“Why are you wearing the cowl?” you ask.

“I have to stop him before he does it to someone else.”

“Joker?” you guess.

Bruce’s jaw tightens, and his forearm stiffens beneath your touch as his fingers curl into a fist.

“Bruce, you need a break. A real break, not just a walk around the manor while you think about it.”

“And if it happens while I’m on a break? Then I have even more blood on my hands!”

You shake your head and take his hands in yours. “It will be on mine, too, then. But do not take yourself away from me and the boys because of him. He’s done more than enough.”

“I have to finish. Batman has to end this.”

“And you will, but right now, you’re only hurting yourself and the people closest to you. Exactly what he wants.”

Bruce drops his head before he releases your hand to rip the cowl away from his face. You smile at him, but his eyes are on the floor.

“You need sleep,” you whisper.

Bruce nods and turns away from you to remove the rest of his equipment. Your love may be tough love sometimes, but it is what Bruce needs on days like today.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Damian’s here, in bed. Dick and Jason are in Blüdhaven and Tim is on patrol.”

“Alone?”

“Helena’s with him,” Bruce assures you. “He’s safe.”

“Then leave Batman, the files, the lack of sleep, all of it down here, and let’s get you somewhere safe, too.”

Bruce allows you to lead him upstairs and into bed, but before you can ask if he feels better, his arm tightens around you as he drifts to sleep.

“Good morning,” Alfred greets.

“Good morning, Alfred,” you reply. “Bruce won’t be joining us just yet.”

“Thank goodness. If only his child felt the same urge for resting.”

“Damian?” you assume.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll bring him to breakfast. Thanks, Alfred.”

Alfred nods and resumes cooking as you begin searching the manor for Damian. He tends to gravitate toward the room with the most swords, the display room on the third floor. As you enter with a knock, Damian keeps his eyes on the floor. A row of model cars is lined up before him, and the weapons on the wall are untouched.

“Hi, Dami,” you say.

“Mother,” he answers quickly.

“Are you practicing or playing?”

“There is no reason to continue practicing,” he answers.

You take a deep breath as you lean against the back of the chair. Damian has done this before, restricted himself from one of his hobbies, and it’s the hardest thing to bring him back from.

“Why not?” you inquire.

“I understand that there are more things I should know how to do, regardless of my interest in it.”

“Dami, you can do what you like. You don’t have to be a stereotype.”

“I am not a stereotype; I am simply expanding my skillset.”

“By…”

“Memorizing the make, model, and best year of popular cars.”

“I see,” you respond as you sit in the chair. “And these are in… year order?”

“Alphabetical model.”

You nod and look at the row of cars. “Is the blue one a Corvette? Because it should be on the other side of the Camaro.”

Damian freezes momentarily before he sinks to his knees and flips the car over. He sets it down and shoves it harshly, sending it into the wall as he presses his fists into the floor. You move to sit beside him but don’t touch him.

“Breathe,” you encourage. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t change them,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t work.”

“That’s okay. Put them however you want.”

“Will Baba allow me to patrol this evening?” he asks, changing the topic.

“That depends. He’s taking a break right now.”

“Then I should be out defending Gotham!”

Damian stands quickly and pulls a katana from the display case. He looks at it, then returns it.

“Dami, not right now,” you say as you stand.

“I don’t need Batman with me!” he argues.

“I’m not saying you do, Damian. What do you need here, in the manor?”

Damian shakes his head, and you remain in your place. Damian’s shoulders drop slowly, and he picks up the Corvette he shoved away to return it to its place. You smile when he looks up at you, and Damian stands closer to you as you tell him that Alfred is making breakfast.

“C’mon,” you urge him. “Let’s go eat and when Bruce wakes up, you can ask him about patrol.”

“Perhaps I could take a break as well,” he suggests.

“That would be nice,” you agree. “Maybe you’d like to join me for a movie night.”

“Movie night?!” Dick yells from the dining room. “I’m in!”

You and Damian shake your heads together as you walk in.

“Maybe it should be a family night,” Bruce interjects from the head of the table.

Damian sits beside you as you begin discussing which movie to watch. While Damian joins the discussion, Bruce meets your eyes from across the table and mouths, Thank you.

You shrug. You’re the mom of Gotham’s Bats, it’s your job to keep them in line and remind them to live.

[steddieas-shegoes]

🪱 Wiggly Wednesday 🪱

cw: temporary character death (Eddie is alive and well in my heart and in every story I ever write don’t you worry)

steve doesn’t know why he still feels such a deep pull towards the trailer park. he thinks it’s because of max at first, but once max is awake and teasing him like she was never in a coma at all, he realizes that’s not it.

he feels…fluttery. like he can’t sit still, or focus, like he’s floating in the universe. like he’s waiting for something.

but he doesn’t fucking know what.

robin keeps telling him he should consider his feelings for eddie, how maybe the friendship they’d acquired meant a little more than steve initially thought. maybe steve has some internal deep-diving to still do.

but steve did that already. he concluded that he very much would’ve liked to kiss eddie on the lips with tongue. maybe forever.

eventually, he gives in and visits the trailer park. most people moved after everything, and eddie’s trailer is still neglected. his uncle moved closer to the plant as soon as he heard eddie was gone. trying to fix the trailer didn’t feel as important to him without his nephew coming home.

there’s no reason for the way his hands shake and his lips quiver as he walks up the porch steps. there’s no reason for his heart racing as he cracks open the busted front door. and there’s certainly no reason for his dick hardening the moment he catches a scent he recognizes as eddie.

the man is dead, dude. get yourself together.

but as he walks further into the trailer, closer to what was eddie’s bedroom before it got raided by the cops and ruined by people who thought the worst of him, the scent gets stronger. steve’s sweating. his breath catches and he nearly chokes on his own saliva.

eddie’s there.

eddie’s there in his bed.

alive.

and suddenly that pull he’s felt for so long makes sense, and he recognizes it for what it really is: some creepy monster connection.

“it’s about fuckin’ time,” eddie grits out. “i couldn’t leave here until you came.”

“what? how?” steve is so lost, so confused. “what’s happening?”

“what’s happening is that you and i both got some major shit to discuss with your friends. the bats gave us some kinda venom and i can hear every single thought you have.” eddie smirks. “which has definitely helped me pass the time.”

steve blushes because he knows exactly what eddie’s talking about. “you can hear my thoughts? why can’t i hear yours?”

eddie shrugs. “i guess my exposure was more so i have more powers? i dunno. but i love what you were thinking with the rope. that was clever. definitely up for it if you are.”

“can i please have a second to come to terms with you being alive before we start planning out my sexual fantasies?” steve rubs his hands across his face. “i don’t understand how you’re here.”

“probably the venom.”

“you seem way too calm.”

“i’ve had two months to find calm.”

steve looks around the room, sees wrappers on the bedside table and dirty clothes piled in the hamper. most of his personal belongings are still sitting at the police station, but his acoustic guitar and a notebook are sprawled in front of him on his bed.

“you’ve been here for two months? alone?”

“with your thoughts, yes.”

“so you-“

“yep.”

“and when i-“

“uh huh.”

“and you’d want to-“

“most definitely.”

steve nodded, sure of himself for the first time in a long time. “can you leave here now?”

“probably. why? you gonna whisk me away to your castle so we can pleasure each other in the moonlight?” eddie’s teasing grin should annoy steve, but he’s gone too long without it and he thought he’d never get to see it again. “quite sappy, aren’t you?”

“if you promise to never refer to sex as pleasuring each other, i’ll definitely take you back to mine.”

“i’m sorry. would you prefer the term making love?”

“yes, actually.”

eddie’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t tease. “then we should…go…do that.”

steve leans down to kiss the corner of eddie’s mouth, shocking both of them with how quickly and naturally it happens.

“should we bring a blanket to cover you in the backseat? until we figure out what we need to do to keep you safe.”

eddie wraps a blanket around his shoulders and stands up. “lead the way, my liege.”

[noosayog]

THE NATURE OF LONGING

fushiguro (zenin) toji x fem!reader

contents: NSFW, non-curse au, arranged marriage, both toji and reader have terrible parents, mutual pining, sexual tension, afab! reader, dry humping, grinding, fingering, nipple play, clitoral play, oral (f receiving), overstim, pet names, fluff, angst. MDNI

wc: 5.9k

part 2 | series masterlist here

The two of you settle into a semi-regular routine of watching TV together on the couch after Toji cooks dinner. Toji will tease you for your choices in shows and movies or joke about watching an R-rated movie. He learns his lesson after you fix him with a glare, simply shutting up and watching your pick. 

Tonight, a movie plays as you and Toji sit on opposite sides of the couch, each of your thighs pressed against either armrests. 

A couple minutes in, Toji notices you shivering underneath your throw blankets. He laughs quietly. 

“What?” you say defensively. “It’s cold.” 

“Are you just looking for an excuse to cuddle, princess?” 

“You wish, perv. You’re just looking for an excuse to cop a feel.” 

After the night you kissed, Toji noticed a shift in your demeanor. You still argue, but your words are delivered with less heat. It’s less venomous bite and more teasing banter. At least he’s started to interpret it that way. Whenever you entertain his teasing, he swears you feel the sexual tension too. Multiple times, he’s come close to calling you out for using snark as your foreplay. 

Alas, he restrains from being too vulgar. He hasn’t yet tamed the possibility of violence out of you yet. 

“Promise I won’t do anything unsavory,” he says, holding his arms out to you, his chest beckoning. 

You fix him with a look. 

“Nothing too unsavory,” he corrects himself. 

“As if you can help yourself,” you huff. 

He chuckles, unruffled. “C’mon, don’t be difficult about this.” 

In one motion, he pulls you to sit between his legs. The touching has become too normal. Toji secretly relishes in knowing you find some kind of comfort in his touch. Though you protest, your body language always gives you away when you sag against him. He can read you like a book. 

He takes the blanket from you and winds it, along with his biceps, around your waist, hunching over your entire frame. Toji grins as you lean into his chest. 

You pinch his arm. “Shut up.” 

He holds tighter. “Yes, ma’am.” 

As the movie plays, Toji feels your head lolling side to side in a sleepy haze, only finding slight comfort when it awkwardly finds a spot on Toji’s sternum. He maneuvers to lay down: him on his back and you splayed out on your stomach on top.

When you rouse slightly, Toji freezes. You don’t wake, however. You snuggle closer into his chest and move your legs to straddle one of his thighs. 

Smirking ever so slightly at your touch starved actions, he makes a mental note to remember to tease you for it in the morning. He shifts a bit to accomodate for your movements, hands coming up to caress your waist. 

His thumb brushes against the sliver of skin where your shirt rides up and you shiver on his chest. Your back arches instinctively to get closer to your source of warmth, only ending up with you pressing your hips into his. A pathetic mewl escapes your lips, so quiet he almost misses it. 

Toji comes to a full stop.

His hands squeeze at the fat of your hips experimentally and this time he hears it loud and clear. 

A pitiful little moan of his name. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. 

Your hips start moving, as if a knee-jerk reaction to Toji’s boner beginning to press into your tummy. 

Toji calls your name. And again with more urgency, but you simply mumble his name again. 

It’s torture, waiting for you to wake but you do, slowly blinking the sleep out of your eyes and Toji can’t help but think even your eyelashes fluttering is sexy. 

“Toji? Oh!” you exclaim when you realize your positioning. You scramble to get off of Toji, but one of your knees slips off the couch, forcing you to brace your hands on the couch beneath Toji’s armpits, his hands coming up to your waist to steady you. His big hands cover almost half your torso and you’re hyper aware that his thumbs are digging into the underside of your tits. 

That’s when you notice the heat in your leggings. Your stumble caused your clothed crotch to settle on top of Toji’s thigh. The press of his thick thigh against your sensitive center makes you squeeze your legs together subconsciously, realizing too late that his thigh between your legs is the only thing that offers you some friction. 

Toji watches, completely enthralled, as your eyes widen. He can almost see the thoughts racing through your brain. And having you here, laying on top of him, so apparently mortified, makes something swell up in his chest. He crooks his knee upwards to press harder against you. 

You fall back onto his chest, whimpering a sweet moan against his ear. 

That’s all it takes for Tojji to use his grip on your waist to push you harder against his leg. He bounces his thigh lightly, nudging harder at your heated cunt. 

You wind your arms around his neck, leaning all your weight on his torso and hiding your face in his neck. Your hips are rolling against his thigh to work for your own release. Toji lets go of your hips to slide his hands into your leggings. He squeezes the globes of your ass, kneading them and spreading them rhythmically with your thrusts to grant your pussy maximum access to him. 

“Mm! Toji wait-” 

“Wait? You’re the one moving on your own, sweetheart.” 

“No, I’m not!” 

“Mhm,” he responds disbelievingly, patronizingly. “Such a good girl.” 

He feels your arms tighten around his neck. 

“You like that? You like being called a good girl?” 

“Toji, I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum? From just a little grinding?” 

“Toji! I can’t, I can’t. It’s not enough, please-” 

Toji pushes a hand lower into your leggings to brush a finger against your slit, grazing against it. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.” 

His one finger ghosting your bare pussy sends jolts up your body, hips twitching every time his finger slides ever so slightly against your lower lips. You finally come apart, spilling into your panties. You pant against Toji’s neck while he continues to kneed at your ass. 

Your shaky mouthing against his pulse point almost sends him into a frenzy, distracting himself by squeezing harder and pressing hot kisses against your temple. He breathes a laugh against the crown of your head and the condensation from his breath sends another round of shivers down your body that Toji feels with precision. 

“That was hot, princess.” 

When you finally push up to meet his eyes, he grins. Toji slips his hands out from your leggings. He brings his fingers, glistening from your essence, to his mouth, sucking them clean all while maintaining eye contact with you. 

“Toji!” you squeal, embarrassed beyond belief. He only finishes cleaning off his fingers before leaning up, intending to kiss you. 

However, you avert your face, pushing up to get up. 

“Wait, princess-”

You dart away to the safety of your room, squeaking out a sorry and slamming the door. Never mind his raging boner, he flops back onto the couch with a heavy arm thrown over his face. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, trying to figure out how he’s going to talk himself out of this one. 

-

Your presence is noticeably absent until the following evening. He cooks dinner as usual, trying not to think about you when he hears the front door open. Toji busies himself chopping the onions so as not to give away that he has been anxiously awaiting your return. When you enter the kitchen, you say nothing. You hop to sit onto the counter close enough to where he is working, hands tightly clasped together, so obviously wanting to broach the topic at hand. 

“Hey, welcome home.”

“I’m home,” you say, not meeting his gaze. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he says, going back to his onions. “You want any?” 

You look up, surprised. It’s a conversation the two of you have had many times: he’s offering you an out. 

“Oh, um, yeah,” you stutter. “Please,” you tack on. 

“Coming right up, sweetheart.” 

The corner of his eye picks up your shoulders sagging and your hands coming apart to rest on either side of your thighs.

“So how was your day?” you ask, relieved to not have to talk about last night after all. 

This makes Toji startle, knife hovering over the onion, eyes comically widening. “You care?” He asks incredulously. Dropping the knife, Toji saunters over to you, hips caging you in, and holds the back of his palm against your forehead. “You got a fever that burned through your brain or something?” 

You smack his hand away, “shut up! Just wanted to be civil for once, but I guess I shouldn’t have bothered-” 

His chuckle interrupts your rant. “My day was good, sweetheart. And you? You thought about how I made you cum in your pants last night?” 

“Toji!” 

His devilish grin morphs into one of amusement when your legs start to swing adorably from where they dangle off the counter. Toji allows his palms to rest on your hands on either side of your thighs, leaning forward to mouth at your collarbone. 

He expects you to smack him away, but you crane your neck to give him access. 

“Mmm, Toji,” you moan. 

He licks and kisses up to your earlobe. “You hungry?”

You hum, thoughts of dinner a million miles away. Toji revels in the effect he has on you. 

“Me too,” Toji says, abruptly pulling away. “Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

The smirk that threatens to show itself is so hard to stamp down when he sees your dazed expression, beginnings of a pout blooming on your lips at Toji’s sudden withdrawal. 

Ever the sore loser, you shake his lingering scent from your head, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together for some relief. 

“I’m gonna go shower before dinner,” you say, hopping off the counter. 

“Can I join?” 

You flash him your middle finger on your way out, smiling when you hear his belly laugh. 

After dinner, you do the dishes as Toji settles on the couch to pick something to fall asleep to. He has sports highlights on when you join him, rolling your eyes and grabbing the remote to switch it over. He just lays still, saying nothing. You pick a sitcom to put on for background noise before moving to sit on your designated side. Toji grabs your hand to stop you, eyes still on the screen. He reclines from his upright position to lay on his back, waiting for you with open arms. Without protest, you slump in a heap onto his body, giggling at the “oof” pushed from his throat. His arms come up naturally to stroke your back. 

“You got a thing for this, huh?” 

You feel the heat return to your cheeks when you remember what had happened last time the two of you were in this position. When Toji laughs, you realize you love feeling the rumbles rippling through this chest and hearing the sound so close to your ears. 

As the show plays, you shuffle around to get comfortable, surprising yourself by how unbothered you are when you start to feel his cock getting harder under you and when his hands slip down to start kneading your ass. 

The heat of his growing erection presses against your pussy, almost as if it was his warm hands cupping you down there. Imagining it makes your cunt clench. 

Toji doesn’t take it any further though, content just touching. That’s when you rest your elbows on Toji’s chest, propping your head up on your palms to look at him. 

“Toji?” you ask. 

“Hmm?” 

“What are you and your parents like?” 

He tears his eyes from the TV to glance down at you. “Why do you ask?” 

“You’ve seen me with mine. Just wanna know about you too.” 

Toji’s eyes go back to the screen as he thinks about his answer. Not because this is a sensitive topic, but only because he truly is indifferent. The years of their neglect and callousness have stripped away any remaining affection or hope he may hold for them. 

“They’re like yours. Shitty parents, just waiting to sell me off.” 

You listen empathetically. 

“But I came to terms with it a long time ago. Just like this… situation we’re in. I’ve known for a long time they’d marry me off when the time came.” 

“How can you stand it? They’re supposed to love us, aren’t they?” 

Your eyes start to water and it makes Toji’s heart ache. He gives your ass a big squeeze. “I know. And I used to feel the way you do… but I’ve just lived a bit longer than you – realized earlier there was no point in wasting time, wishing they’d come to their senses.” He sighs. “I’ve had a long time to stop wishing for a dead plant to come back to life.” 

“That’s so sad,” you sniffle. 

“Hey,” he wipes a tear away. “You’re not alone in this, okay? You got me now. I ain’t going anywhere. We’re married.” 

You stiffen just a bit at that, relaxing only when his fingers start to rub soothing circles on your cheek. “It’s not like you chose me, though. You could’ve married anyone else if mine wasn’t the first file your parents saw.” 

“True,” he agrees. “But no point in thinking about the could’ve’s, should’ve’s, would’ve’s now. And anyway, I think you’re forgetting something.”

You listen raptly. 

“Even before I knew I’d be marrying you, I always thought you were hot, especially when you’d scream at me in your cute little pajama shorts.” 

You give him a little smack. He can hear you scolding him to be serious. “Liar. You hated me,” you say. 

He tuts. “Uh uh, sweetheart. I think that was just you. I've wanted to get in your pants since day one.” 

“Really?” you rise to gaze at him with starry eyes. “You weren’t unhappy to marry me?” 

Toji swears he has hearts in his eyes when he sees how you hang onto his every word. 

“What’s with all the self-doubt tonight, princess? I know you felt how hard I got from just kissing and touching you.” 

“Toji!” you scold, embarrassed. “I’m being serious!” 

“So am I. I wouldn’t touch up on anyone just because we got hitched.” 

“So you did it because it was me?” 

“You know the answer to that. Now, any other questions?” 

You shake your head, plopping it back down to press your cheek against his pecs, listening to his heart beat. 

When you pinch the closest part of him every time his hands slow, sighing in pleasure when they resume their possessive touch on your bare skin, it’s all over for Toji. In the sweetest way possible.

-

It’s a lazy sunday afternoon for Toji when he finally emerges from his room, yawning the sleep from his eyes and scratching lazily at his stomach. He finds you sitting on the floor of the living room, back resting against the foot of the couch. Your legs are folded criss-cross, making your shorts ride up and exposing even more of your thighs. Before you notice him, he slips quietly behind you, shushing your noises of protest when he inserts himself between you and the couch. He pushes his back against the couch while spreading his legs on either side of you, hunching over to engulf you with his entire body. You sigh at his warmth, content to go back to your book. 

Toji dozes off on your shoulders for a bit, but the scent of your shampoo and strawberry body wash invades his drowsy mind. He feels his dick twitch in his sweats and surely you do as well, because you begin squirming, accidentally pushing closer to his growing hard on. 

“Toji, your-” 

“Yeah,” he hums, beginning to kiss and suck marks on your neck. You shut your eyes and enjoy the warmth his palms are spreading. 

The hands circling your waist start to explore, one coming up to tickle under your breasts and the other sliding slowly down. He lightly squeezes the flesh around your tummy, making you squirm. You still instantly, mouth opening in a circle and head lolling back onto his shoulder when his hand suddenly circles your right tit and squeezes roughly. 

“Toji-” 

“No bra? Were you waiting for me to touch you?” he murmurs, voice still scratchy from sleep. He doesn’t allow you to deny it when he roughly squeezes your tit again before shoving his hand under your shirt to touch them bare. He continues his ministrations on your breasts for a bit, purposely avoiding your nipples until you start whining. 

“This is in the way,” he says before roughly tugging your tight little tank top up to expose your tits. The other hand joins in to give the other mound of flesh a good knead as he starts to ghost a finger around your nipple. The circles he draws around your nipples get tighter and tighter until his fingers finally touch you where you want him. He gives each nipple a flick before tugging gently at them. 

“Ohhh, Toji,” you breathe. 

“Such beautiful tits.” 

After he’s had his fill of touching your boobs, his hands travel down to wear you need relief most. He toys with the hem of your booty shorts occasionally letting his fingers hook into your panties without ever fully touching. 

“Toji, ah, please…” 

“Sound so fucking sweet, begging for me.” 

Each moan that is pulled from your lips is rewarded with a brush of his fingers against your slit. 

“Fuck, baby. You are dripping. Got wet from just me touching your tits?” 

“Toji, please! Just touch me,” you beg. 

“Whatever my baby wants,” he whispers into your ear. 

One big hand cups your entire pussy, big fingers teasing up and down over your clothed cunt. 

“S’not enough. Want your fingers inside!” 

Toji almost moans. He manhandles your legs from their initial position pretzeled over each other to each leg propped over his knees. The new position forces your cunt open and the shifting of your panties over your sensitive hole tears a whimper from your throat. Shoving your drenched panties and shorts to the side, he finally gives you what you want and pushes his middle finger into your cunt. The other hand comes back up to give your hard nipples some attention. 

“This what you want, princess?” 

“Mmmm, more!” 

He adds another finger to your sopping hole, starting to pick up the pace and grind his palm into your clit with each thrust. “Such a good little slut, taking my fingers, getting so wet for me.” 

Your insides clench and Toji curses. 

“You like being called a slut? Or you like being praised?” 

Your back arches further with each thrust. “Both! I like both, Toji!” 

“Yeah?” he drawls, adding a third finger and starting to jackhammer into your cunt. 

“Ah, oh! Toji, please, don’t stop! Gonna cum, gonna cum-”

“Bet you are, can feel your little cunt clenching. C’mon then, cum all over my fingers.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you scream, creaming all over Toji’s fingers. He thrusts several more times, then removes his fingers to rub tight, frantic circles over your clit to prolong your orgasm.

“Toji! Please, stop, ‘m so sensitive. I can’t!” 

“Yeah you can, baby. Cum with your clit, I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Your hands come up to squeeze your own tits, teasing your own nipples as you chase your second high. The sight almost makes Toji bust in his pants. 

“T- Toji! I’m cumming!” 

You reach your second peak, wildly jerking your hips against Toji’s fingers and jaw going slack. 

Coming down from your high, you rest your head against Toji’s neck, letting his hand explore your body. Your pants warm his pulse point and Toji’s chest swells with pride. 

“You were such a good girl, cumming twice on my fingers. Bet you’d let me eat that sweet pussy out, huh?” 

“Mmm,” you moan, angling your face up for a kiss. Toji indulges you, pressing innocent pecks all over your face then to your lips. You whine when he keeps his lips shut, licking his scar, a habit Toji notices you’ve picked up. Toji loves the attention, prolonging the moment. He opens his lips for a second but closes them when he feels your tongue greedily pushing through. 

“Toji, please, wanna kiss you…” 

Toji groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your submission has his cock throbbing through his sweats. He manhandles you onto the couch, lifting your body by the waist and throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your shorts hit the ground and he presses his nose against your clothed pussy, inhaling deeply. 

“You smell so fuckin good.” 

“Toji!” you cry out, pushing at his head to try to keep him away. “S’embarrassing.” 

“Nu uh, sweetheart.” He makes his displeasure for your resistance known by grabbing a fistful of your damp panties, pulling them up so that the fabric disappears into your slit, rubbing against where you need him most. 

You arch against the feeling, letting out high pitched squeals. “Ah- Oh- To-” 

Toji gives the material a few more cruel tugs before using a finger to dig it out. You let a pornographic moan fly when Toji starts lapping at your leaking cunt through the fabric. His tongue pushes in and out, not forgetting to come up to circle your hard clit. 

“Need more, Toji!” 

“Mhmm,” he hums against your pussy. “Tell me what you need, baby.” 

“Need to feel it!” 

“Hmm?” he purrs, letting the vibrations of his voice do it’s thing on you. 

“Wanna feel your tongue on my - oh!” 

Giving in, he pulls your panties down in one sweeping motion and starts fucking you with his tongue. 

“Ahhh! Toji, more! Yes, oh, right there!” 

“Ride my tongue, baby. Want to feel you cum on my tongue.” 

You obey, rolling your hips desperately against Toji’s lolled out tongue. “S’not enough! I can’t- please, please, Toji!” 

His hand comes up to start rubbing feverish circles over your clit to help you. Your back arches off the couch and your gyrating becomes erratic. With one light slap to your clit, your eyes fly open and you scream with your release. Toji continues to lap into the folds of your leaking cunt, drinking up your lewd fluids. 

“Ohh, you taste so fucking good, princess.”

“Toji, stop- please- oh my fucking, I’m gonna cum again!” 

When you try to squirm away, his arms roughly snake under your hips to push your center into his face. He’s relentless, sucking and licking you through your orgasm. Another slap to your cunt sends you into another spiraling orgasm. 

Toji’s licks become gentle, helping you through your fourth climax as one warm hand rubs tenderly at the fat of your drooling lips. 

When he finally parts with your pussy, you look down to see his mouth, cheeks, and chin glistening with your cum. He releases your ass and you sit up on your elbows to meet him for a kiss. He gives you a delicate kiss, staining your tongue with the taste of his saliva and your own release. You moan at the taste, breath stuttering when you feel his boner pressing against your sensitive lower lips. 

Your hands come down shakily to palm him through his pants. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, that feels good.” 

You rub harder, trailing your hands down the underside of his cock. Toji hisses when you brush his balls. You’re enthralled by the pleasure all over his face as you slide up and down his erection through his pants. Your fingers circle the tip playfully, pushing at where you know his opening would be leaking pre-cum. 

“Stop,” he hisses. 

You don’t listen, continuing to tease the tip, giggling as you listen to his low groans. 

“Enough,” he utters, grabbing your hands and holding them above your head. “Wanna make me feel good, sweetheart?” 

You nod, looking up at him through wet lashes. 

“Bet you do. But all you’re getting is this today.” 

Toji then presses his clothed erection against your throbbing cunt. He starts grinding his hips against yours, the outline of his cock sliding between the fat of your pussy. The remains of your previous orgasm wet his sweats in no time and the friction feel so good. 

“Bet you can come like this, huh? Don’t even need my dick inside to come? Show me then, baby. Show me how you come from just some humping.” 

He starts thrusting harder, your pussy clenching around nothing. Toji’s free hand flicks at your nipple while his lips sucks the other nub into his mouth. His tongue swirls over the hard tip as he continues to move his hips. With a bite of your nipple, you scream one last time, feeling the slick flow out of your bottom lips. You hear the low drag of his voice when he groans out, “fuuuck.” 

Toji releases your arms, allowing you to watch breathlessly as he parts from you. A string of your slick connects your cunt and Toji’s pants as he pulls away. You see the dark spot in Toji’s pants spread. 

“You.. came?” you ask dumbly. 

Toji’s grin is feral as he watches you stare at the receding tent in his pants. He flips you over so you’re resting your entire weight on him, tired pussy resting perfectly over the wet spot. “Fuck yeah baby, that was so hot. Could cum listening to you moan all day.” 

You collapse onto his chest, giving it a weak smack. “Perv.” 

He presses a light kiss on the crown of your head. “You love it.” 

-

Toji isn’t surprised when his phone rings with the Zenin on the other side of the line. In fact, he’s been thinking it was way past time for them to check in, make sure he’s doing his part in keeping the union between the families strong. 

He almost smirks as he picks up the phone, smugly thinking of how he had you boneless on the couch only earlier that afternoon. Imagine his surprise when the Zenin address him with a sense of urgency, notifying him of rumors of your family’s recent talks to unite with the Gojos. To his knowledge, you were an only child and he certainly hasn’t heard of any close cousins in your clan. He asks for clarity, not letting his panic take over, but they have no further information: only that they have heard talk of your family meeting secretly with the elders of the Gojo family. Toji hangs up with unease.

His suspicions are confirmed when your parents drop by without warning the following day. You’re out, which he relays to them, but they stay in the doorway. 

“We’re here to speak with you.”

Toji lets them in, making them tea as a dutiful son-in-law would. Your mother accepts the tea, but immediately places it on the table without taking a sip. Your father forgoes formalities altogether.

“Let us be honest, Zenin,” your father starts. “We have been offered an engagement with the son of the Gojo family.” 

“Well,” your mother says pleasantly. “The Gojo family is a very prestigious family. It would be silly of us to pass up on the offer.” Her head tilts ever so slightly, flashing a small smile. “You understand, don’t you?” 

Toji’s head swims. “And the union with the Zenin house…” 

Your mother places one manicured hand on his knee. “I’m sure you can find someone much more suitable for you than our daughter.” 

“Our clan has a distant cousin, close to our daughter in age, you can marry. We will discuss this with the Zenin to ensure no lost love between our two families,” you father finishes. 

“And you may not know this but…” your mother continues. “...our daughter used to be entangled with the Gojo son, but the engagement fell through when they parted. This is the perfect opportunity for the two to reunite their flame. It would be a shame to keep young ones in love apart, especially for reasons so grotesque as family ties, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“... your daughter and Gojo Satoru have history?” Toji asks dumbly.

“Why, yes!” your mother exclaims. “They were the most picturesque couple. Their parting was such a shame, but it simply must be destiny offering them another chance,” she rambles. 

“Enough,” your father cuts in. He places a stack of papers on the table, motioning for Toji to look. Divorce papers. 

“This is all we wanted to discuss today. Please consider the offer and we will be back another day to collect.” Your father says. “We truly do see this as a most favorable option for all parties.” He speaks as if it’s a done deal, as final as it had been the day the two of you signed the marriage forms in the first place. 

There’s nothing Toji can say back as they leave him with pleased, closed-lipped smiles and assurances of a strong bond between the two families going forward. Having said all they need to say, your parents depart, leaving Toji with the blank divorce form. 

The hours tick by as he sits on the couch, staring blankly at the two untouched cups of tea that have long gone cold. Of all the information he received, he’s not sure where to start processing – your history with Gojo, that you’ve been secretly meeting with him, if you’ve known about your parents’ schemes, the divorce. 

The thoughts continue to plague him that night, ringing loudly in his head. Amplified with the silence in the house and the absence of your presence. 

He awakens the next morning to the incessant ringing of his phone. His groggy voice answers the call – from his parents – and is greeted with a hysterical tirade from his mother. She screams something of the pride of the Zenin family, how dare they so blatantly show their preference for the Gojos, Toji zones out the rest. His ears perk up when they start talking about you. 

“... happening today!”

“What,” Toji sits up. “Today? The divorce forms haven’t even been signed yet.” He rushes out to scan the house for any signs of you; he would rather hear the answer from you than his rotten family. 

“Today!” his mother shouts over the line. 

You are still nowhere to be found and dread creeps into his stomach at the idea that you had spent the night out. Where? This was supposed to be your home. 

He hastily gets the location of your omiai with Gojo Satoru, his mother leaving him with a warning that he better fix this. 

Upon his arrival at the restaurant, he storms through the private rooms, leaving no screendoor unturned. They all yield empty tables and groups he does not recognize, to his relief. At the last door, he takes a deep breath before sliding the screendoor open, praying that he won’t find you behind the door. 

His stomach drops when the last door reveals you sitting across from the white-haired man he recognizes as Gojo Satoru. 

Their eyes turn to you, yours widening in shock. 

“Toji-” 

Unwelcome betrayal floods his heart as he steels his expression into one of an ice cold glacier. 

“I’m no relationship expert,” Toji cuts with venom. “But even I know it’s bad taste to be meeting with an ex behind your husband’s back, don’tcha think, sweetheart?” 

“Toji, it’s not what you think-” 

“Then you wanna explain what the fuck is going on here?” 

“Well, I think it’s pretty self explanatory, no, Zenin?” Gojo drawls, lips curling into a smirk. 

Tojis eyes narrow. If looks could kill. 

“You,” he points to you. “Come with me.” 

“Toji, I can’t…” 

He’s incredulous. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” 

“I was under the impression that her parents explained everything pretty clearly yesterday,” Gojo shrugs. 

“Satoru, please,” you say to him. 

“‘Satoru’?” 

You look at him with wide eyes. It’s incriminating. 

“So it’s true then. You knew everything?” Toji asks, but it comes out like a statement. “Come. here.” he grits out to you. It’s the last chance he would give you. 

You don’t take it, only looking down. In a small voice, you mutter, “I can’t. Our parents will be back any second.” 

“Oh for fucks sake, forget about your parents for one fucking minute will you?” 

“I… I can’t, Toji. Maybe you’re used to doing that with your family, but I can’t disobey mine like that.” 

So you’re choosing them over me? He wants to demand of you. But his pride stops him. He won’t beg. He certainly won’t be doing that in front of Gojo Satoru. He takes a few steps back, as if physically putting some distance between you would make this better. 

That’s when he steps back into someone – your parents, along with the Gojo elders.

“Zenin Toji,” the Gojo head bellows. “What do you think you are doing here?” 

He recovers quickly, lips curling into a smile that looks more like he’s baring his teeth. “Nothing much,” he feigns nonchalance. “Just thought I’d stop by to see what kinda schemes your snakey family has been up to. Never thought I’d see adultery added to that list though.” 

“Toji-san-” 

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll make this real easy for all of you.” He turns to you, addressing you in a cold tone he has never used on you before. “The papers will be waiting for you at home, my half signed. It’s not in my nature to stand in between two lovers, so I wish you all the best,” he spits the word lovers, before turning on his heel. 

He forces himself to keep his strides even, even as he hears you shout his name. 

The walk home does not cool his head. Inside the house, though it was only for a short while, he is reminded of you everywhere. 

His expectations for his family had died years ago; there was no hope for that. From then on, he had trained himself to exercise the same doubt on all his relationships. Surely, if his own birth parents could not come to love him, there is no guarantee anyone else could. 

With you, Toji had let his expectations of you, of your relationship, go unchecked. He had been tricked. You had always acted more of the victim in this, ever the sad, pitiful one. You had played the role so well that Toji was the one who felt guilty. And you took that weakness of his, placed your hands into the cracks to force open a chasm. 

This entire time, Toji had thought you a pitiful, neglected daughter, desperate for love, forced into an unwanted marriage with someone you hated. It seems that in reality, the only crime inflicted upon you, was not being married, but rather being married to the wrong person. 

He can only laugh at himself in scorn. He could remember giving you a lecture on the couch about how to give up on false hope and expectations for people who were bound to betray you – the irony of the situation. It seems he had been the one to harbor false hope this entire time. And like a fool, he had allowed his growing affection for you blind him, deluding himself into thinking you hold feelings for him too. 

Toji signs the forms and leaves them in plain sight on the tea table. 

Unable to stand another second in the space haunted with your touch, he flees, intending to keep away until every trace of you is gone. 

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (18)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, mentions of masturbation with a plushie, jealous Bucky

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (17)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky is fuming. Not only did you break his rules to not touch yourself; no, you did it in front of one of the hidden cameras, smiling into the camera while riding one of your plushies. A big bear you named Bucky Bear.

“Bucky bear makes me feel so good,” you whimper on the footage as you rub yourself against the plushie. “Always so good. If only the real Bucky was here to watch us doing naughty things.”

“DOLL!” Bucky calls for you, but you remain in the bedroom. You giggle because he calls you a naughty doll. “I told you not to touch yourself!”

“You told me many things! As long as you treat me like a dangerous criminal you must lock away, I’ll ride fluffy Bucky Bear, not you.”

Bucky laughs. He believed you’re a shy and sweet girl, when in reality you’re a naughty devil in disguise. Bucky shakes his head when your moans on the footage get louder.

“She’s a naughty girl, Alpine,” he says to himself. His cat is occupied elsewhere. The white furball is currently curled in your side to get some cuddles. Bucky looks around the room, huffing, as his cat is nowhere to be seen. “Alpine, punk. Don’t get all cozy with her. She deserves punishment.”

“So do you,” you reply, and snuggle into the pillow. “Alpine is such a good companion. At least they didn’t leave me all alone, with only cat food and water.”

Bucky sighs deeply. He should be in charge and correct your behavior, but he doesn’t have it in him to punish you for breaking his rules. You’re not wrong.

Bucky doesn’t trust you yet, afraid you’ll leave him. Sooner than later, everyone left him. Even his best friend. Steve Rogers. He promised Bucky till the end of the line but left to live his life with some girl he met during the war.

Sometimes Bucky believes Steve left because he realized his old friend was long gone. Maybe Steve knew that his friend was broken beyond repair and ran for the hills.

He shakes his head. No. Steve deserved his happy ending. Even if that means leaving his best friend behind, this world has a new Captain America now.

It’s time for Bucky to find his own life and happy ending. He stops the footage and decides to fix what he messed up.

“Doll, I’m sorry,” he kicks off his shoes and takes off his pants to join you on the bed. He snuggles close to you and runs his hand over your head. “I know you came with me willingly. I’m just so scared that you’ll leave me too.”

“No,” you hastily reply, and you move closer to hide your face in Bucky’s chest. He wraps his arms around you to hold you tightly. “I gave up my whole life to be with you, Bucky. I left my job, home, and freedom behind to come here. I didn’t know what awaited me when I got with you, but I knew, I’ll be safe.”

“I’ll always keep you safe, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs. He nuzzles your hair and sighs as you relax in his embrace. “I thought about what you said too. You’re right. I can’t keep you here like a caged bird.”

“We must be careful,” you murmur and kiss his chest. “My colleague reported me missing. If anyone sees me... they could call the cops. I don’t want them to take me away.”

“You’re right again.” Bucky nods. “What should we do now? I didn’t think so far. I only wanted to grab you and bring you here.”

You giggle. “Bucky, you’re an awful kidnapper.”

“I did a great job,” he grumbles. “You’re here, with me. That’s all that matters to me, Y/N. Consequences be damned.”

“What if I email my former boss, telling them I quit? Maybe I can pretend that I’m in Paris or having a sunbath on an exotic island. What do you think?”

“Photoshop,” Bucky hums. “A great invention if you need to fake being elsewhere. We can create some photos and send them to your colleague or boss. You just upped and left to have an extended vacation.”

“That sounds good to me,” you whisper his name while running your hand over his chest. “I’ll send an email, telling my boss I quit. At the same time, I’ll post fake pictures of my extended vacation on social media.”

“Do you think this will work out? I mean, maybe you should stay hidden.” Bucky wonders if it’s a good idea to post fake pictures on social media. He spent so many years hidden in the shadows that stepping into the light seems to be dangerous to the former assassin.

You snuggle into his chest, ignoring his questions. “I don’t know. Let’s get some sleep for now. We can think about a plan tomorrow. Only if you don’t lock the kitchen cabinets again.”

“I unlocked them, doll,” Bucky assures you once again. “This will never happen. This is your home now, not a prison. I want you to feel welcome and happy.”

“With you around, I’m happy,” you whisper his name and close your eyes. “All I wanted since I first saw you was to be with you.”

Part 19

Tags in reblog.

[mrs-padalecki2341]

Hey um. This is my first time doing an ask but can u maybe please write an enemy to lovers

Sam and reader (reader is assumed to be vamp or wolf or something else but is innocent and 100% human)

Misunderstanding

(Sam x Reader)

I tried my best to fit the prompt, so I hope I did okay and that you like it! Enjoy!

Warnings/Promises: Gunshot wound, canon level violence, smut, screaming kink, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it), slight praise, kind of like an enemies to lovers thing, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something.

~~~

You were on a case, hunting what seemed to be a werewolf. After three days and no luck, you decided to take a break and hit the local bar. Now, you were on your way back to the motel, when someone screamed help from an allyway.

You turned the corner to see the werewolf running off and a man lying dead on the ground.

You walked over and crouched beside him to check for a heart, and sure enough, it was missing.

You sighed and wiped the blood that got on you on your pants. You were about to go call the cops about the body when someone called out behind you.

"Hey!"

You turned and saw two guys at the other end of the ally right as one of them shot a silver bullet into your shoulder, just missing your chest and heart.

You stumbled and collapsed against the wall, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and reaching for your gun with the other.

"What the fuck?!? Who the fuck are you!?!?" You called out to the guys.

"Shit. She's not a wolf..." The taller one said as they both ran up to you.

"Wolf? As in "Werewolf"?" You asked, still leaning against the wall, a slight strain to your voice from the pain.

How did they know about werewolves?

"Yeah. We're looking for a werewolf..." The shorter one says.

"Wait, so you're hunters?" You asked, confused.

"Yeah, I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. So, are you a hunter too then?" The tall one replied.

"Y-yeah... Did you say Winchester? As in *the* Winchesters?" Your eyes went big.

"Uh, heh, yeah. That's us." Sam chuckled as you stumbled a bit. "Oh, yeah, sorry about shooting you... Here, let me see..." He moved your hand away from the wound and examined it. "Whew, yeah, you're gonna need stitches for that. We can take you back to our bunker and fix you up there if you want."

He reached his hand out to help you stand up from on the wall.

"Thank you." You murmured, accepting his hand. "I'm Y/n, by the way. Y/n Y/l/n."

They helped you back to their 67' Chevy Impala and drove you to the bunker.

Once you got there and they stitched and patched you up, you leaned back in your chair. You glanced at the room around you, which was a library with shelves filled with countless books on legends and lore.

"Y'all have a nice place." You sighed and relaxed your body.

"Thanks." Sam smiled and sat down beside you, turning on the little lamp in the center of the table.

Dean came walking into the room with three beers in hand.

"Want one?" He asked and looked at you. When you gave him a nod he tossed it to you, then tossed another to Sam, before sitting down across from you and opening his own.

You cracked open the bottle and took a nice sip, then sat it back down, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you admired the men before you.

The three of you had sat there and talked for a while and drank a few beers, when Dean stretched.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. See y'all later." Dean said though a yawn as he gathered all the empty beer bottles the three of you had accumulated.

"Kay, g'night Dean." Sam called to his brother.

"Night, Sammy." Dean called back as he walked off to go to his room for the night.

Once Dean was out of earshot, Sam turned to you, a slight smile forming across his face.

"Y'know, I've been thinking, this whole time while we've been sitting here, about how pretty you are." He said, his smile growing.

"Really?" Your face flushed.

"Yeah. And I do kind of have some making up with you to do after I shot you and all..." His face flushed as well. You could tell he was a bit nervous.

Taking the hint that he was trying to flirt, you leaned forward.

"How about you do some making *out* with me instead, and we'll call it even?~" You smirked, making him blush harder.

"Deal." He whispered, smirking back, before scooting closer to connect lips with you.

When his mouth reached yours, you couldn't help but let out a little squeal of excitement, a thin layer of sweat forming on both of your bodies. You scooted out of your chair and into his lap, wrapping your thighs around him. He groaned around your lips as you deepened the kiss, your tongue twirling around his.

"We should probably go somewhere more private." He said, breaking the kiss.

You nodded in agreement, and he grabbed onto your thighs, picking you up as he stood from the chair. You twirled his thick hair around your fingers and nipped at his neck as he carried you back to his room.

The door opened and shut with a creak and left you and Sam alone in the privacy of his bedroom to do as you pleased. You were shaking with excitement and lust as he laid down on the bed with you. You wasted no time finding each other's lips again and you both let out tiny groans of enjoyment as you kissed enthusiastically.

"Take off your clothes." He commanded in a deep and rough tone.

You did as you were told and stripped off your clothing, starting with your blood-stained shirt, until all that was left on you was the patch over your wound.

"You're even prettier than I'd thought you would be." He gawked as he removed his own clothing.

Your eyes went wide at the sight of him. How the hell were you going to take all of that??? He noticed the way you were staring and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle at first until you get used to me."

You nodded and then pulled him back down on the bed and kissed him. It was like he was a drug or something. You just couldn't get enough. Every second that your lips were away from his felt like an eternity-long withdraw.

He moved his hand to his cock to line it up with your soaking wet cunt.

"May I?" He asked, waiting for you to consent to him entering you.

"Please..." You moaned, needing him inside you like a fish needs water.

He slowly pushed his tip in, causing you to let out a loud, uncontrollable moan.

"Do you need me to stop?" He says, worried he hurt you.

"No, please, God no, don't stop." You begged through a moan.

"Okay, let me know if you do need me to stop though, okay?" He said as he pushed in deeper.

"Okay." You said while you moaned and mewled in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. You could feel every last bit of him as he eased into your throbbing core.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move." He said as he bottomed out, his hips against yours.

"Okay, you can move." You said with a deep breath.

He pulled out slowly, until just his tip was inside of you, then he pushed back in, then out, then in, then out, then in.

"Mmm, fuck Sammy, you're gonna kill me. Faster." You whined.

He sped up his movement just slightly, making a subtle difference.

"Mm, no, *faster*. If you don't hurry up and fuck me right, I might explode." You exclaimed, desperation clear in your tone.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied jokingly, pulling his hips away and then pushing back in at a finally decent pace.

"Ahhh, that's more like it." You sighed, moving your hips to meet his with each thrust.

"Yeah... Damn, you feel amazing." He praised, groaning in pleasure.

"Fuck!" You yelped out as he hit your g-spot, sending an extra strong jab of pleasure through your core. "Mm, fuck, right there..." You spread your legs further to give him more room to move inside you.

At this, he sped up, pushing harder into your g-spot with each thrust into you until you were practically screaming.

"Ah, shit, you sound perfect. Keep screaming, baby." He groaned, moving his hands to your hips and pushing even harder to make you scream louder.

"F...f... fu... mm... FUCK, SAMMY. MMMN~" You yelled out as you squeezed around his cock and came so hard your vision went fuzzy.

He kept moving in and out of you, until his rhythm faltered, and his pace sped up for the final pushes into you until he came inside you, digging his fingers into your sides hard enough to leave marks.

"Wow." Was all he could manage to say as he exhaled heavily and rolled over onto his back beside you.

"I agree. Wow." You sighed, still euphoric and half blind with pleasure.

You huffed out with a soft "hmmm~" and scooted in closer to Sam's giant figure that lay next to you on the bed.

"You're good at that." You spoke softly after a moment.

He just smiled in response and chuckled as he laid there with you in his arms.

You were both already about to pass out, when there was a thump at the door.

"Y'all okay in there? I woke up to Y/n screaming." Dean's tired voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, we're good." Sam called and you both let out a little laugh.

"Ohh... alright then." Dean replied as it clicked in his head what types of screams they were. "Well, I'm going back to sleep then. Try to keep it down."

"We won't!" You called to him, fully intending on screaming at the top of your lungs next round.

Sam just laughed, gently kneading one of your breasts in his hand.

"So, I guess that means this is a more than one round type of thing then?"He suggested, smiling at you coyly.

"Mmhmm. I hope you didn't plan on sleeping tonight~" You purred, pulling him back up against you.

"Oh, I don't plan on sleeping for a week if you're gonna keep this up the whole time~" He groaned back, snatching you by the hair into an aggressive kiss before climbing on top of you for round two.

-SP<3

[rokishimizu4]

Martian Manhunter babysits some kidnapped children (but not really)

(I’ve decided that I’m gonna be finishing these headcannons and then work on my BatFam story. I have figured everything else out, surprisingly since I took Sudafed for my cold and now I’m wired as fuck)

To say that nothing surprised J’onn anymore since his time on Earth, it would be a lie and a joke that he would not find funny at all.

Honestly, he has no idea how he found the villains before anyone else. Though the slight smell of chocolate might of helped, that again the thoughts of the re-kidnapped children.

”Si, bella. Your papi is going to be fine. Our little mother hen can fix anything.” A strange male voice is what J’onn follows (invisible to the naked eye) until he reaches a nice (for Gotham) two story sweet shop with a small crew of Hispanic and Italian women and men working around the strange group, that certainly doesn’t belong there.

J’onn floats to the second floor and comes face to face with a goopy child?, that was slowly eating a plate of chocolate chip cookies. The thing freezes mid bite and stares at J’onn for a few seconds, before motioning to the others in the small room.

”Ah, come in ospite maschio (Male guest?)” I was just telling the little bambino that our mother hen is fixing up their papa as we speak and then they can answer your questions.” A man dressed in a black suit and pants gives J’onn a fanged smile, and J’onn becomes interested in how they knew he was coming.

But his attention switches to the situation at hand as the two children, twins-one boy and one girl, rush over to him (which he just noticed that he became visible without him noticing) and look up at him with sparkles in their brown eyes.

”You’re the Manhunter! You’re our favorite superhero!! Daddy says that he meet you once when he was rushing to the hospital cause our mama was having us!” The twins throw up their hands in excitement, and J’onn has a small realization that this is what Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash must feel every time someone asks for an autograph or a picture.

J’onn keeps his eyes on the twins while his mind focuses on the situation at hand, but he can find no malicious thoughts or auras around these strange villains. Two of which returns with some plates full of different tacos, chips, dips, and sweets.

J’onn only steps away for a brief moment to inform the JL that he has found the kidnapped father and twins, and that he has the situation under control, even allowing the kids to talk over the coms to Superman and Wonderwoman. (Both of which shows up a few moments later, and informs J’onn that Batman and Green Arrow are taking over the case with the woman)

Wonder Woman can only get the children to grab onto her lasso of truth, as everyone else leaves the room to give them privacy, and learns that the twins father managed to get into contact with ‘Copper Spider’, the ‘mother hen of the group’, to rescue them from the bad woman.

The children tell her that their daddy promised that if anything happened to him, that they would need to trust a man of ice and a red wolf and follow them.

She tries to get more out of the children, but they can’t give her anything else, and soon J’onn and Superman return with the twin’s father, safe but a bit dehydrated (and no longer wanting to drink anything alcoholic again).

All three Superheroes tries to find the ‘Villain’ group, or anyone else in the shop, only to realize that it was completely abandoned and the ‘people’ were only an illusion.

The Superheroes and small family quickly return to Gotham, checks the father into a hospital (Paid for by Bruce Wayne of course) and J’onn sets out to be the twin’s babysitter until their father fully recovers.

He gives the Gotham City police his statement, but he does not need his powers to know that the cops are likely not to press charges. And if they did, they would have the JL to answer to.

[makeucrawl]

🎃HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

~A little Halloween “ShockTherapy” short for you all~

!!WARNING!!NSFW!!

It was Halloween night in the Murkoff facility, and Coyle was patiently waiting for his favorite doctor to arrive. Easterman was at some company party and promised to bring back some alcohol.

Hearing the keypad outside his door beeping,Leland immediately perks up.

Like a dog ready to greet it’s master home.

Hendrick entered the room, the cop’s eyes nearly burst out from behind his sunglasses.

The doctor was wearing a priest's costume.

“W-What in the hell are you wearin’!?" Coyle's mouth dropped open as the doctor handed him a beer.

“It was a Halloween party, Leland. People dress up for them." Easterman shrugs and opens a drink for himself.

"Well you look…stupid." Coyle murmurs as he drinks, his gaze still fixed on the other man.

There was something about seeing the doctor dressed differently than his normal dark suit that was working for the cop. He nursed his beer, intensely observing the other like prey.

“You a religious type or is it all science with you?" The police officer asks curiously though he deeply hopes the other would recite something.

“If you're asking if Ive read the Bible, I still do so on occasion. I haven't been to a real church in a long time.” The doctor makes the sign of the cross, drink still in hand, while leaning back against a wooden dresser. Coyle made a weird sound, similar to a growl.

Easterman narrows his gaze at the officer.

“Oh don't tell me this is doing something for you."

He gestures at the clothing he is wearing before rolling his eyes. "Your mind really does only know the perverse doesn’t it?" The doctor reaches up about to remove the white clerical collar.

The sound of a bottle hitting the ground was Hendrick's only warning before Leland pounced.

“Don't you dare take a damn thing off."

With one hand, he holds the struggling man's wrists above his head. "What are you doing!? Get off of me!!” Easterman exclaims, but Coyle simply grins down at him.

“Well fergive me father fer I'm about to ssssin~”

He let out a devious chuckle, which caused the doctor to shiver slightly.

“That was a…terrible..terrible joke. Now get off of me!" He lets out a sharp gasp as Coyle grabs his ass with his free hand and lifts him up onto the dresser.

“Can’t do that, Father, and it ain’t a joke. Now let’s get that ass to mass!”

“Oh my g- Stop with the damn jokes!!” Henrick's face flushes slightly as Leland grinds his hard on against him.

“Aw yer a little shy aintcha ya~” The sight of the normally pompous man writhing and becoming flustered just fueled him.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Breathing heavily he makes short work of undoing the “priest's” pants.

"Going to make ya sing hallelujah!" Another malicious laugh as he lifts the other man's legs into the air. "Now let me give ya a lil communion." He dragged his heavy tongue around the sensitive skin before plunging it into the twitching hole. Hendrick bites his wrist as a shaky hand grabs for Coyle's hair.

“F-Fuck! Leland…G-god..damn..your tongue..!” The doctor unleashes a series of curses, causing the prime asset to chuckle deeply making his tongue vibrate slightly.

After pulling his tongue away, Leland spits heavily into the already dripping hole. He enjoyed the rather nasty look the doc gave him.

“Now let's we if we can get you seeing the lord~"

“I am going to kill you for this-!”

Easterman's head jerks back on the dresser as Coyle pushes within him. One hand covered his mouth, and the other grips tightly onto the officer's arm.

“Hoooooly fffuck..!! Oooh g-god..daaamn..Father you feel..sssoooo fuckin good..!”

He groans out, slowly rotating his hips into the quivering “priest” before picking up the pace.

The wooden dresser groaned and creaked beneath them, obscured by all of Coyle's continuous chatting.

“Oh fuck..oh fuck oh fuck-! Hnnn! This is too damn gooood..! Need to haaaaa…need to get in ya more often! Heheheh oooh…an’ ya look so fuckin delicious right now! F-Fuck! Am I fuckin’ ya nice an hard, Father? Huh?! Ya seein’ god yet?!”

“J-Just shut up already!”

Hendrick glares up at him, but it was difficult to maintain that expression for long. His most sensitive spot was being abused by this crazed ranting lunatic.

He was confused at first when the cop drank the rest of his beer, or at least until he kissed him. Now he was a little more grateful for having his drink stolen.

Coyle kissed him as if his life depended on it, his tongue gliding against the doctor's.

“Heheh..Ooh..Thinkin’ it’s c-come t-to Jesus time…!”

The prime asset suddenly chuckles, causing the other man to groan. Regardless of the bad joke, he knew he was going to cum soon. His release splattered the costume as he lets out a low groan.

Leland followed quickly, his hips sputter with each twitch of his cock. He continues thrusting himself enjoying the heavy slick wet sound that accompanied it.

“Holy-Fuck!…S-Stop...! G-get o-off..!”

Easterman groans, attempting to push Coyle away. Though the cop whines, he slowly pulls himself out, grinning as his cum spills out.

“Outta get ya dressed up more often~”

“Please..Just..shut up..and..bring me another beer..” The doctor wheezes listening to Coyle chuckle as he walked away. He was going to have to burn this outfit.

[drewsbuzzcut]

a blurb of Dallas trying to make nick break nnn?

The Breaking Point

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: underage drinking, almost fight, being inebriated, minor angst, smut!!

This was a blurb request, but I just ran with the idea and now it’s over 3k words!

During the process of Dallas picking her outfit ahead of the frat party she is attending with Nick, she makes sure to bring her A game. She picks out her shortest skirt and the sexiest top that will still keep her warm, but one she doesn’t need a bra for. She’s locked and loaded, waiting for the perfect time to tease Nick until he caves. She is beyond tired of Nick conforming into the bizarre challenge that is no nut november. Supposedly there is a bet going with the rest of his teammates, but Dallas thinks she will go crazy if he doesn’t touch her. That’s another thing, because of her incessant teasing and attempts to get him to break, her boyfriend has been dodging her. Today is the first day in a week that they will be spending more than an hour together.

She lets herself into his room, fixing her lipstick through the camera of her phone when Nick finds her. He has to contain himself from pinning her to his bed, too much pent up sexual tension filling his senses. When Dallas notices him in the corner of her eye, she jumps off the bed to make her way to him.

“Hi, baby. You look so handsome. You smell good, too,” she whispers, arms wrapped around his waist as her lips press soft pecks on his jaw and lips.

He paws at her sides, his hands feeling the soft material of her sheer, black long sleeve. His eyes take in her light makeup and dark red lipstick that he loves so much. His eyes start to wander down, taking in her tiny skirt before quickly going back up. He just realized she isn’t wearing a bra, her nipples tight and visible through her top. He goes back down to her black skirt and bare legs. Her skin is soft as he lets his hands cop a feel. His eyes go back and forth for a little bit before he clears his throats.

“You look beautiful, June bug. I missed you this week,” he mutters against her temple.

Dallas holds back her scoff and smart remark. How dare he say he misses her when he’s been the one staying away. Whatever, she’s going to put it aside for now.

“Thank you, Nicky. I was thinking, for tonight I can be the dd so you can drink all you want. You’ve had a long week, you should let loose,” she suggests, twisting some of his hair in her fingers.

She subtly leans her body into his, his hands going to the small of her back. He’s missed his girl, truly.

“Are you sure? I want you to have fun.”

“Don’t worry, Nicky baby, I will have fun,” she states, kissing his lips in a way that brings him to his knees.

“God, you look sexy. This skirt, to die for. If you get cold, everyone will see your nipples,” he growls, nosing at her neck and leaving small love bites in his wake.

“Good thing you’re the only one who can touch me,” she sighs, bringing his hand up to cup her boobs.

“You’re a minx, and as much I want to suck your pretty little nipples into my mouth, we need to head out already. Only a week and a half until I can have you,” he whispers in her ear.

Again, she has to resist the scoff wanting to leave her mouth. Here she is thinking that her outfit would be enough, but no. She has to commence plan b.

“Let’s head out then,” she says, piquing Nick’s interest because it has became rare for her to not berate him for partaking in no nut november.

At the party, the couple split up, Dallas waving him off to go have fun while Dallas goes to dance with her girl friends. Every now and then Dallas will steal a glance of Nick, seeing him laugh and drink while talking to his buddies. It’s actually really nice to see him relaxed.

The girl makes her way to him, weaving between the group of guys he’s with. Nick pulls her body into his, hands settling on her hips.

“Hey, Dallas. Want a drink?” Rutger asks.

“Sorry, I’m sober tonight. Promised Nicky here that I’d drive back so he can have fun,” she explains, giggling at his over dramatic pout.

“What about you, D? Shouldn’t you be having fun, too?” Luca says, playfully shoving at Nick.

“I am having fun, for your information. Plus, I came over here to steal my boyfriend, so if you’ll excuse us,” she says, laughing when everyone starts whistling and hollering at them.

She drags her boyfriend to a hidden corner of a room that barely has people in it, not that they’d be paying attention to them anyways. Nick softly pins her to the wall behind her, not wanting anyone to see his hands go up her skirt. Dallas pushes her tongue into his mouth, feeling content when she can feel the thrum of his moan. As his hands go up her skirt, he starts squeezing the soft flesh of her ass. The girl can feel the longing and lust start to bubble in her stomach, her tongue going deeper into his mouth as her hands end up under his shirt. Pulling away first, Nick’s lips chase after hers, drawing a seductive laugh from the girl. Her lips start to kiss on his neck, her hands moving up his chest in the same pace. With every nip and suck at his neck, her fingernails dig into his skin. His low moans only spur her on further.

She lifts her leg to wrap it around his waist, and even though he’s wearing jeans, he can feel the heat of her pussy- especially when she starts to rub against him. He pushes on her hips to pin her back into the wall. Thumbing at her nipples, her head leans back and Nick takes the opportunity to kiss at her neck. He goes straight for her sweet spot. Dallas swears she could orgasm just from his attention alone. Her hands go under the back of his shirt, a zap of electricity going through her fingertips when his muscles flex under his skin. Her hands don’t stay too long in their spot- they soon start to palm the front of his jeans. She can feel him harden behind the zipper which makes her that more confident with what she’s about to do.

The girl connects her lips back to his, this time it’s his tongue coming to tangle with hers. Dallas subtly reaches under her skirt, pulling her panties down her legs- Nick would notice if he wasn’t too busy sucking on her tongue. It’s when she shoves the dainty material in his front pocket, he pulls away and gives her a confused frown before he pulls out her panties from his pocket. She has a devilish smirk on her face as he holds up the undergarment in between his two fingers.

“C’mon, we should head back before someone comes looking for us,” she whispers out of breath.

“What about these?” He asks, dangling her underwear.

“Keep them,” she says, giving him one last kiss before she’s pulling him back to the crowded room.

“Stay with me,” he whispers against her temple when she moves to go back to her friends.

“My friends are waiting for me. You stay with the boys. I’ll see you later, or when you let me know you’re ready to go,” she pecks his jaw, walking away leaving him wanting more.

The rest of the time, Nick is sporting an uncomfortable hard on and watches Dallas from where she is with her friends. He’s barely holding himself together and he wants desperately to take her home. She spots him and flashes a smile, continuing talking with her friends when a guy walks up to her. Nick watches as the animatedly talk and laugh together. As time passes, the guy is still lingering vying for Dallas’ attention- even when she’s to busy looking over at Nick while he and the guys shotgun beers.

It just so happens that the next time Nick looks in his girlfriend’s direction, she and that guy are posing for a photo. The guy has his arm over her shoulders and she smiles next to him. Nick loses his shit when he sees the guy lean down to whisper in her ear. Nick charges towards them, ripping the guy’s arm away from Dallas and pushing at his chest.

“Nick!” Dallas gasps, shocked at the way her boyfriend is acting.

“Back the fuck away from her,” Nick says although his words are slurred.

“We’re just talking, nothing more,” the guy claims.

“You had your fucking hands on her,” Nick responds, moving towards the guy again.

“We were taking a picture. We’re friends, you know? If you’re that worried about June, maybe you shouldn’t leave your girlfriend by herself,” the guys say with a cocky tone.

“Don’t call me June,” Dallas warns him. It’s not that she wouldn’t let anyone call her that because of Nick, it’s because she didn’t like to be called that by anyone besides Nick. There’s a big difference.

“Fuck you! She’s my girlfriend and only I can call her June,” Nick shouts, pushing at the guy once again.

Before Nick or the other guy can throw a swing, Luca and Rutger come hauling ass, pulling Nick away from the other guy. They all end up outside on the front lawn.

“Dude you need to calm down. You’ve been drinking and you need to go home,” Rutger says to the angered boy.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Dallas shouts at Nick.

The hockey player is at a loss for words, not having ever heard his girl scream like that.

“Why are you trying to start fights? I thought you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your spot on the hockey team?” She berates him, but Nick feels like she’s taking the other guy’s side.

“Because of you!” Nick shouts back.

Dallas mouth closes, forgetting what she was about to say as her shoulder sag. She can’t believe he’s blaming this one her. It’s hurts.

“How could you just let him be all over you?”

“It wasn’t like that. You know I wouldn’t do that to you,” she mutters.

He shakes his head, his eyes red and Dallas doesn’t know if it’s because of the alcohol or tears.

“He was still all over you,” Nick brings up the guy again.

“My boyfriend, who’d rather be part of a pointless challenge, than touch me is mad. Mad that I was hanging out with some other guy. He’s just a friend and we were taking a damn picture! Let’s talk about how you’ve been ignoring me because you can’t have sex with me, or you’ll lose this damn challenge. How did I end up being the bad guy?” Dallas is practically in tears. Her whole face is red and her voice is starting to grow hoarse.

“You should be supporting me!” Nick has the audacity to say. His arms flail at his sides as if he’s so surprised that his girlfriend isn’t supporting this immature challenge.

“It’s a bullshit challenge! I’m the one feeling neglected and like you don’t even want me anymore, yet you want me to support you. Fuck off! And you know what, find your own damn way home!” She yelled, discreetly wiping away a few tears. She’s angry and wants him all at the same time, but she leaves without him. However, before she leaves, she makes sure Luca- who is sober- can take him home. She’d never put him at risk.

The next morning Dallas wakes up to a soft knock on her front door. She waits a couple minutes in bed, her head pounding from last night’s crying session. When she finally opens her door she comes face to face with Nick who wears a worried and saddened expression. She can see the darkness around his eyes and the way his lips are chapped. He clearly didn’t have no one to get him water last night. She feels bad, being that she’s usually the one nursing his hangover. He’s holding a takeout bag and a separate bag with Red Bulls, because he knows that she prefers that over coffee. Dallas moves to the side, allowing him to enter the door.

“Dallas, I’m sorry. Shit, I have been such a terrible boyfriend to you. I can’t take back what I did, but I am sorry. I brought you breakfast and an energy drink. I’m gonna head out, but I just needed to tell you that I’m sorry,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his wrist getting caught in his girl’s hand before he could walk away.

“Don’t call me Dallas ever again and don’t ever try to start a fight when you’re drunk. You have a lot of important things you can lose,” she whispers, her forehead resting on his collarbones.

“I know and I don’t ever want to lose you,” he admits, truthfully.

Dallas hides her shy smile, her hands rubbing up and down his back.

“I was talking about hockey.”

“You’re more important than hockey. I think I’d be able to live without hockey, but I know I wouldn’t be able to live without you,” he says.

“I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I was acting a little crazy,��� she giggles, kissing his cheek.

“I deserved it.”

“Why didn’t you get yourself breakfast? Did you drink water last night?”

“Didn’t feel like eating and no. I didn’t even sleep,” he picks her up and lays them on her bed.

“Don’t do that to yourself. Now you have to stay here and nap with me. I’ll eat my food later.”

Dallas throws a leg over his waist, her hand caressing his cheek and she finally gives him a kiss on the lips.

“I want you,” is whispered against her lips, Nick’s lips trailing down her neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He flips them over, Dallas on her back with him on his side but facing her. He pulls her lip between his, sucking a nipping at her. His fingers trace her collarbone, chills forming on Dallas’ skin as her breathing starts to get heavier. His hand trails down, pausing to massage her boobs then continuing down to her heat. He softly pulls her panties to the side- two fingers spreading her open and collecting her arousal. When he sinks his two fingers into her, her hips shoot off the bed, not having felt such pleasure in a while.

His thick fingers continue to push at her sensitive spot, spending waves of fire throughout her body. She tightens around him, hips softly and slowly bucking up to meet his thrusts. Everything starts to get hazy when she feels her orgasm crash down on her. Nick’s fingers wet and glistening. He brings his hand up to her lips, watching as she takes them into her mouth. If he wasn’t hard already, twirling her tongue around his digits would’ve done the trick. He pulls away, moving to be in between her legs. He kisses her like he’s trying to breathe her air. A soft moan bubbles in his throat when he gets a taste of her off her tongue. Pulling away once more, he rips off all his clothing before he’s pulling off her cami and ripping apart her panties.

“I missed you, missed you touching me,” she confesses.

His lips go back to hers, tugging on her bottom lip when her hands start to scratch at his back. She can feel his swollen, red tip poke at her entrance. Nick starts to kiss down her neck, sucking and flicking his tongue against her sweet spot. Her hands reach out to connect at his back just as her hips shoot off the bed, searching for any ounce of friction. Moving further down her body, his lips start to smatter kisses all over her chest until he finally decides to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Dallas can feel her body tingling each time his tongue laps at her or when his teeth gently tug on her nipple. He can feel the vibrations of her every moan rattling in her chest.

He grabs ahold of his cock, stroking himself before he’s gliding through her folds.

“Don’t tease me,” Dallas groans, her body wanting to arch up into his due to her lack of patience.

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he says, head and shoulders sagging in disappointment.

“Screw the condom. We’re both clean and I want to feel all of you, please,” she begs, her hands pulling his body closer to hers.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He finally thrusts inside of her, Dallas letting out a deafening moan at the way he stretches her. His pace is slow to begin with, letting Dallas get used to his width as he can still feel her clench around him. Dallas can feel herself grow wetter whenever Nick starts to roll his hips into hers, his fingers tracing the slight outline of his cock that appears in her lower abdomen. Her heat contracts around his length just at his soft touch.

“You see that, baby? That’s me fucking you so deep that you can feel me in your stomach,” he whispers in her ear, sucking her earlobe in between his lips.

“You’re mine, body and soul,” he whispers into her skin.

“And you’re mine. Mine, mine, only mine,” she chants, her body buzzing.

Dallas moans, her hands splaying over his entire back, her nails starting to dig deeper into his skin. She looks down, watching the way he sinks into her. The absurd sounds of her sopping pussy whenever he plunges into her, and the sight of her wetness collecting at the base of his cock. It’s enough to douse her in ecstasy. She feels like he’s touching every single one of her nerve endings.

The way his mushroomed tip catches onto each ridge of her slick walls, stimulating the muscles with each drag of his hips.

“Nicky, harder. Fuck me harder,” she begs in her raspy voice.

He moves his hands to her hips, lifting them off the bed as he starts drilling into her. Her mouth falls open, silent moans sitting at the seam of her lips. His tip repeatedly nudges her spongy spot until Dallas’ vision starts to blur. Her walls flutter around him and the knot in her stomach tightens. She starts to move her hips, meeting Nick thrust for thrust.

“Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructs her, her hips still in his hands.

She bucks her hips up, her tight cunt sucking him in deeper. Nick grunts, feeling his orgasm start to seep into his bones. His pace speeds up, his hips pounding into her as she arches her back, head tilted back and hands fisting the sheets. She writhes around as sweet whimpers and mewls claw their way out of her throat.

She can feel the veins of his cock pulse inside of her. Her walls throb in reaction. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as the knot in her stomach unwinds, her body stiffening as she cums around him. Her body jumps when his finger circles her clit, his hips still moving as he fucks her through her orgasm.

Nick feels the familiar heated coil collapse, tipping him over the edge as he pulls out and jerks himself until his cum is landing on his girl’s stomach. Dallas reaches out for him, pulling his body on top of hers as they lay there boneless. She can feel his body shake even as they make out like horny teenagers.

“Wow,” she chuckles, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed that hard before. That was intense. Are you feeling okay?” He brushes some of her hair away from her face, nuzzling his nose into her cheek.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How are you feeling? You’re still trembling,” she cards her fingers through his hair, pecking wherever she can reach on his face.

“I feel sleepy and content. You did so good,” he kisses her lips.

“Thank you for not going through with your no nut november,” she giggles, her body melting into the mattress and Nick following.

“I’d do anything for you, June bug,” he says, eyes shutting and his breaths evening out.

Dallas smiles, finally feeling satiated. Yeah, she’d do anything for him, too.

a/n: This was fun and hard to write, so I hope y’all enjoy it!!!

[rosyjn]

Thinking about how A1 Jake eats you out when you’re mad at him.

MINORS DNI

“Baby, please-“ he insists.

You are walking away from him, a nonchalant look on your face as you swiftly stride through the forest, using the silent treatment on your mate. Your tail swishes behind you. Jake is desperately trailing after you, begging for forgiveness. You can hear his quick footsteps messily follow your rhythmic ones.

“Jake, no.” You stop in your tracks and turn around, your pupils dilating with frustration. “Leave.”

“Honey,” he sighs and reaches his arms out to try and romantically grab your shoulders, but you hiss. His arms fall back at his sides. His bare chest is slightly heaving. “Let me make you feel good.”

Of course, he wants to fix his mistakes with sex. Does he think you’re stupid?

“No.” You nod your head away.

“Please. I swear-“ he raises his arms in the air, the way a person would do if they are cornered by the cops. A gesture to prove harmlessness and surrender. He lowers his body to the ground. His body shrinks in front of you. You look down at him, amused by his cowering position.

In reality, he couldn’t go two seconds knowing that you’re upset with him. He needs you to be happy. He doesn’t know why. He just can’t stand to see his pretty girl without a smile on her face.

“What are you doing?” Your frown is still carved on your face. Jake keeps eye contact with you, now reaching for the strings of your loincloth. You hiss. “Demon!” With that, he pulls his hands away quickly, his ears now folding behind his head in submission.

“Let me do this one thing for ya, promise. At least to give me peace of mind…” he begs. You huff. There’s no way he’s doing this. However, if you really think about it, it’s a win-win.

“Quickly.” You emotionlessly fiddle to untie your garments, dropping them to the ground. He hastily moves the skimpy accessories to the side, guiding you down to the forest floor with himself. You slowly drop, your face furrowed in confusion. What is he going to do?

“Lean back, spread your legs, please.” He starts to grin: an idiot, toothy grin. Oh, goodness. Your body is now bare, even though his is fully clothed. “Beautiful girl,” he marvels while gently opening your knees. Your cunt is exposed for him.

You do what he says, although reluctantly. You rejigger your position until your head is resting comfortably on the quiet ground, with your heat easily accessible to Jake.

That stealthy demon whispers sweet words to you. Words that would make you forgive him immediately if you were dumb enough to fall for his antics. Words that might make you consider giving him another chance.

He takes a deep breath before diving into you. His tongue instantly finds and connects to your clit, swirling and suckling the small nub. His slippery mouth quickly attacks your heat in all the sensitive spots.

Fuck, you’ve forgotten all about the conflict. Why were you mad at him again? I guess you’ll never know. For now, all you can do is squirm and yelp out in shock from the amount of stimulation on your now-soaked vulva. Your legs begin to clench and tremble. You squeeze his head with your strong thighs.

“Mph!” You whine, feeling his strong hands force your legs apart.

“No running away,” he murmurs into your pussy, forcing his face back into it. You are now the desperate one, clawing and tugging at his braids. He kisses your clit, he rampages your sore little hole with his tongue. You poor thing.

He can’t help himself. He wants to taste all your arousal, then clean you up while saying the sweetest words to you. He’ll force a squirt out of you, then praise you to the heavens and back. He knows what makes you melt.

With your hands still entangled in his hair, you throw your head back. You try your best not to buck your hips or escape his mouth, because you know what will happen if you do. Your plump breasts swell and heat up with anticipation.

What a sight to see. Jake is engulfed in your heat, but when he looks up, he sees the perfect view. Your sexy torso travels to your swollen tits, which leads to your face- a contorted display of pleasure. He loves it.

You arch your back, trying to process these continuous waves of pleasure.

[sweetandabitspycho]

Tej Parker x Reader

Warnings: bad writing, sad/comfort. First time doing a sad/comfort so be nice please.

“Why?" Tej asked trying to stay calm, but he was getting more aggravate. I was trying not to start a fight. Really I was. He stood blocking me from leaving.

"Because I need to get away." I said keeping an even voice. He looked hurt. He should. He needs to feel what I have been feeling. "From me? Why?" His voice cracked. "You haven't been honest with me. You are hiding something from me and I don't trust you completely really now." I said in a whisper. It hurt to say, but it was true. He was spending hours with his ex, to the point he was coming home at 5am.

"I can explain everything baby." His voice killed me. It was sad and broken. As if I had hit him. I wanted to die. I shook my head no. Too scared I would stay and break down.

"It's not want it looks like. Please!" He was about to cry. "No. Not right now. I can't." I said as he moved out of the way for me to walk out.

"I'm so sorry honey." Mia said cuddling into my side. "It's okay. I'll be okay." There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in." Mia said before Brian popped in with ice cream in hand. He gently kisses my head. "If you want I can shoot him, or have him shoot. I still have cop friends." He said laughing lightly, I couldn't bring myself to laugh but I said a no but thank you with a small smile.

After a while Mia left. I finally felt like I could cry.

It felt as if someone riped out my heart. I though we would be together until death and even then we would still be together. I thought he was it. The one.

I hugged the stupid stuffed bear he gave me. No, it wasn't making me feel better, I can't sleep without him. I felt safe with him. I pull my knees to my chest trying to get some sleep.

The next day.

I woke up to the sun peaky through the curtain. Rubbing my eyes I grabbed my phone to see the time. 12am, great lunch time. I saw I had five texted for Tej

Tej❤️ I'm sorry love it's not what it seems.

Tej❤️ I promise. I see how it can look like I'm cheating but I'm not.

Tej❤️ please just let me explain.

Tej❤️ I would never hurt you. I would die before please believe me.

Tej❤️ please just come meet me at our spot at 4. It will explain everything.

Our spot was a roof of an abandonment build. Maybe I should go. Should I go? What if it doesn't fix anything but brakes us more.

Before I could completely overthink going I got up off the bed and took a shower.

After I went down stairs to see Mia. She gave me a sad smile as she asked if I wanted coffee. I took it before telling her about Tej texting asking me to go at 4. She said I should and I agree with her. I should.

At 3pm I started to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt that once belonged to Tej. At 3:20 I decided to head out after saying a quick goodbye. It only took 20 minutes to get there.

I started to climb up the four story building. It didn't take long to get to the top. That's when I saw it.

Tej stood at the table we had brought up for us, he was placing roses everywhere. He continued to place things on the table before I could tell him I was there he turned around.

He smiled at me, before walking towards me. "Please just let me explain, if you still want to break up I'll be okay. Just please let me explain." He said in a rush. I used to love it when he did that, but now It just made me want to hug him and tell him it's okay.

He took my silence as an answer then he started to explain. "I was not cheating. I know what it looks like but she was just helping me pick out your ring. I wanted to get the perfect ring and I didn't tell you I wanted it to be a surprise and I had it custom made for you, so please believe me." He said it so fast I almost didn't hear him. I hugged him before kissing him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I thought that." I said hugging him tighter he gently pulled back before talking. "It's okay. I understand, I didn't realize how bad it looked until it was too late. I would have thought that too." I said getting on one knee. "Now will you please marry me?" I got down to his level before kissing him. "Of course! I love you so much!!"

[prosepoetryanddrama]

Put Your Money on Me

Fugitive Sirius Black x Bounty Hunter Remus Lupin

___

Remus grimaced at the bitter taste of the cheap beer and pushed the plastic cup away from him. The bar in which he was currently situated was grimy and filthy, although the dark red and black tones hid it quite well. Unfortunately, the inferiority of the beer could not be hidden. 

He sighed quietly, discreetly glancing at door. His patience was running thin and the dodgy nature of the rough-faced men sitting around him was putting him on edge.

Many times in his twenty-five years of life, he had found himself questioning why he made the choices he made. Why had he, at the tender age of eighteen, decided to pursue a degree in Criminal Justice rather than sequestering himself in English Literature? Why had he not gone to Law school, Grad school, or any of the other places he could have gone? Instead, he had found himself writing an exam, and rubbing shoulders with bond agents.

All this had led him to this exact moment where he sat in a grubby bar, waiting for his informant, a shifty-eyed man named Arthur, to arrive.

Not for the first time, he cursed Sirius Black.

Depending on who you asked, Sirius Black was the heir to the criminally rich, Black crime family, but he was also the black sheep, stepping out of his family’s footprints, and joining the opposite, clean side of the law, at least for a while.

The one thing that everyone could agree on was that six months ago, Sirius Black had, through many eye-witnesses and his DNA found on the murder weapon, brutally murdered Peter Pettigrew, a fellow cop, in the back of a Knockturn Alley, a drug-breeding ground. 

The story was that Black had a change of heart, and had turned his back on the law, following in his family’s footsteps. He had been dabbling in drug distribution, and Peter had found out. It was believed that Black had gone mad after the death of his estranged, younger brother, Regulus, leading to his actions. Technically, there was no actual evidence found proving that Black had done anything illegal, well anything illegal other than the eventual murder.

Peter had notified the police force, but being a new, nervous rookie, he had wanted to prove himself. He had followed Black that day, and Black, trying to cover up his crimes from being discovered, had shot Pettigrew. 

Sirius had then been apprehended by his fellow officers, but Pettigrew, who had fled with a bullet wound was no where to be found. The Leuitenant, Barty Crouch, had later confirmed that Peter had been found dead. 

Remus didn’t care much for the details of how and when. Despite the homicide charges, Black, through his influential name, and many connections, had managed to get out on bail. This is where Remus had come in the picture, when five months ago, Sirius Black had not shown up to his court date. 

An extended search had been done, but Black had disappeared into thin air. He had taken a large sum of money and had fled, officially making him a fugitive.

Remus, a bounty hunter, had been contacted by a cop named James Potter, Black’s partner, to help hunt him down. For reasons, Remus didn’t want to ponder, Potter had promised to pay Remus a hefty fund to find Black before the FBI did, 

Remus personally did not really care for the details. He was here for the check and the check alone. Well, before atleast. Now he thought mournfully of the money he would never get, based the ways events were unfolding. 

“Remus?” rang out a voice from behind him. 

Remus spun in his seat to see a short, chubby man with a receding auburn hair line. Mentally matching him with the profile in his head, he nodded. 

Gesturing for Arthur to take a seat, Remus fixed the collar of his black trench coat and raked back his brown hair, scanning the bar one more time for any eavesdroppers. 

“Thank you again Arthur, for reaching out. Any information you share, small or big, will be very helpful.” 

Arthur simply fidgeted in his seat, looking down at his lap.

Remus, mentally sighed, before softening his voice more, “I understand you’re nervous but I’m not a cop. I’m not going to arrest you, Arthur, I’m paying you, remember?”

At the mention of money, the cost Remus would have to pay for Arthur’s words, the shabbily dressed man looked up with resolve in his gaze. 

Taking a look around the bar, like a ghost would jump out from the corner, Arthur began telling Remus what he knew.

Arthur was an, alleged, member of the Death Eaters, the most notorious gang in the city of Gryffindor.

Perhaps through a final attempt of honour and honesty, Arthur had reached out to Remus, revealing a different tale to Remus, one that the Daily Prophet, had not been telling.

__ 

Hours later, Remus felt drained, staring blankly at the dirty bar counter, long after Arthur had scurried off into the night. The knowledge that Arthur had confirmed sat heavy on his chest. 

He tightened his coat around him as the cold, night hit him when he walked out the bar. Despite the late hour, the city was mostly silent around him. Even the partygoers of Gryffindor knew to not stay out too late. You never knew who would find you. 

Remus, still and stealthy in the night, cut through the side streets, one hand firmly around a sleek, black gun, under his coat. 

Pausing in the corner of an alley, as a patrolling officer passed by, Remus glanced up at the night sky. Despite the smog that covered downtown, Remus glanced to where he knew he would otherwise see the bright, constellation Regulus, and felt emotion bubbling in his throat. 

Shaking himself out of it, he stepped back out on the street and slinked around the block. 

He only relaxed and released the gun, firmly hiding it’s shape from sight, when he stepped into his apartment complex. 

It took him a few minutes to find his key in his messy pocket, but he quietly inserted it, swinging open the door of his apartment, and immediately turning around and re-locking the three locks on the door. Throwing the keys into the bowl beside the door, he kicked off his shoes, and stepped into the kitchen, not bothering to flip the light on. 

Moonlight filled the apartment from the now slightly open blinds, that Remus swore he had fully closed before leaving. 

He busied himself looking for a snack in the cupboards, humming quietly under his breath.

Remus stilled when he heard a noise from behind him , and before he could blink, someone had wrapped themselves around him.

Remus gasped before he smiled, relaxing into the hold. 

Sirius’s arms wrapped themselves around Remus’s waist and Remus leaned back into his broad and warm chest. He sighed happily as Sirius placed his chin on the top of Remus’s head. 

Taking a minute to breathe in the man’s comforting scent, Remus spoke, “I thought I told you you to not open the blinds. Anyone could see you!”

Sirius let out a laugh, “Someone is going to see me in the dark room, in the middle of the night, on the sixth floor, through the barely open blinds?”

Remus huffed, “Siriu-“

Sirius simply tightened his hold on Remus, nudging him for a kiss. At the last moment, Remus turned his head so that Sirius’s lips met his cheek instead.

Sirius sighed before murmering, “Ok, I’m sorry, my love. I’ll be more careful. I'm just-, I'm getting a bit antsy in here.” 

This time when Sirius leaned down for a kiss, Remus happily obliged. 

He pushed out the thoughts of his troubling conversation out of his mind. That was something for tomorrow, tonight was just for them. 

___

This idea would not leave me alone until I wrote it. I'm not sure if I intend to write more or leave this as a oneshot. Let me know what you prefer!

[sequinsmile-x]

Bezel

He couldn't fix or change her past, but he could give her this.

-x-

Hi friends,

As we all know, I have a very famous lack of control. The lovely @eyesontheskyline posted a gif set and made a comment about Emily's giant watch in 2x20, my mind went haywire and once again here we are.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions/references to loss of a parent

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contently as she takes a sip of her beer, the coolness of it removing any last bits of tension in her shoulders that the case they’d resolved had created.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She turns her head to look at Aaron and smiles as their eyes meet, his eyes soft in a way they rarely were outside of either of their homes or the hotel rooms they shared. There was something strangely empowering about him looking at her like that in front of their friends and it warms her from the inside out. She nods and reaches for his hand that is slung over her shoulders, linking their fingers together as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the scotch he was drinking passing from his lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss when she hears the others groan, making a point of deepening it for a moment before she pulls away, squeezing his hand tightly as she leans in further to his side. 

“Okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” Dave says dryly, a fond glint in his eyes as they both turn to look at him, “I think I preferred it when you two were pretending not to like each other.” 

“I didn’t,” Penelope says, her glee at seeing them together obvious, her entire body practically vibrating with it. Her gaze drifts to Emily’s bare wrist and her smile drops, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a slight pout, “Sorry about your watch, Peaches.” 

Emily looks at her wrist, her bare skin peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her watch had been damaged during the takedown of the unsub, the glass face of it smashed against the wall as he tried to evade arrest and shoved her out of his way. She’d cried out when it happened, more in shock at being pushed than anything else, her worst injury a slight graze of her palm against the brick wall, but it had been enough for Aaron to overreact. Her usually reserved and stoic boyfriend had briefly forgotten where they were and gone out of his way to make sure she was okay, barrelling into the room she was in as if he’d heard a gunshot, accidentally revealing their relationship to the team as he checked her over for injuries that didn’t exist. 

It was why she’d allowed herself to get dragged into going for drinks with the team when all she wanted to really do was snuggle up with Aaron in his bed or hers. The news had travelled fast and Penelope had called her before the unsub was even in the back of a cop car, demanding they all went out when they landed back in DC because she wanted to see them.  Aaron had been hesitant, his embarrassment at overreacting clear, but Emily had talked him into it. Her smile and a promise of later enough to convince him a few drinks with their friends was a good thing. 

They’d told them what they wanted to hear, answering their friend's questions in a way that still allowed them to keep their privacy. Emily felt a certain sense of pride blooming in her chest when they told them they’d been together 8 weeks without anyone noticing, although Dave claimed to have known the entire time. Even though Emily knew they would both miss their relationship just being for them, she liked sharing it with the people she cared about. It made it feel impossibly more real - the three words she hadn’t said outloud yet, the three he hadn’t said either, on the tip of her tongue. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, smiling as her gaze drifts to where her hand is linked with Aaron’s for a second before she looks back up at her friends, “It wasn’t expensive. I have plenty of others” 

“Are you talking you expensive, or regular person expensive, Princess?” Derek asks, hiding a grin behind his beer, “Because those are two different things.” 

She laughs humourlessly as she makes a point of rolling her eyes. She makes eye contact with Penelope again and sighs when she sees that she still seems worried, a crease between her brows that lets Emily know her friend is still thinking about the smashed watch in her go-bag. 

“I mean it, Pen,” she assures her, “It’s just a watch, it’s not like held any great sentimental value.” 

There’s something about the way she says it that makes Aaron pause, his brows furrowing for just a second as he looks down at her, a smile still fixed on her face as she carries on talking to Penelope. Emily had always been very purposeful with everything she’d ever said. She’d been taught at an early age that words mattered, that everything had weight to it. She was never calculated, but she never said anything she didn’t mean, so it makes him curious and leaves him wondering if she meant that she did have a watch that held sentimental value. He files it away for later, sure that whatever it was it was something she wouldn’t want to share with the team. 

When they get back to his apartment, it’s late. They shower together, their laughter and muffled groans lost under the roar of the water, neither one of them wanting to wake Jack up by mistake. By the time they climb into bed, Emily is tired, her body relaxed and sated as she crawls half on top of him, her eyes already closed as she relaxes into his embrace. He hauls her closer and smiles as she giggles, a sound she’d deny if he ever brought it up, her hand fisted in his t-shirt as she anchors herself to him. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his lips against her forehead as he trails his hand up and down her back. She hums as she settles further into his embrace, her arm over his waist and her leg over his hips. 

“Always,” she murmurs, turning her head just enough to kiss his chest, “But make it quick, the combination of the beer and your magic touch is sending me to sleep.”

Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, taking a moment to breathe her in before he asks the question he’d been thinking of since they were in the bar, “Earlier, you said the watch you broke today wasn’t sentimental. Does that mean you have one that is?” 

A part of her wonders if she should be annoyed that he noticed, that he was so good at his job it bled into their personal lives, but she can’t bring herself to be. Instead, she realises she wants to tell him, that she wants to reveal another part of herself to him simply because he’d asked.

“Do you remember that big watch I had?” She asks, her gaze locked on the wall of his bedroom, “It had a leather strap, the face of it was wider than my wrist.” 

He nods before realising she isn’t looking at him, “I remember.” 

“It was my dad’s watch. When he died…” she clears her throat and presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she carries on, “My mom gave it to me. I kept it and one day I couldn’t find my watch so I wore it to work,” she lifts her head to look up at him, her hands on his chest as she rests her chin on them, “It was huge on me. Big and impractical and so obviously not made for me,” she chuckles, “But it made me feel weirdly close to him. Which probably sounds insane.” 

“It doesn’t,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, smiling encouragingly at her as she leans into the touch, “It doesn’t sound insane at all,” he assures her and her response is to turn her head to kiss his palm, “What happened to it?”

He’d picked up on how she was talking about it in the past tense, had seen the wistful look in her eyes as she thought about the watch. She smiles sadly and slips one of her hands into his, pressing their palms together to test the size difference. 

There was something comforting about how big he was in comparison to her, something about it that made her feel safe. She didn’t need him to protect her, didn’t need him to hold her together, but she wanted him to. She wanted to share things with him that she’d never shared with anyone because she knew nothing would scare him off. He’d seen the very worst of her and he was still here, he still wanted to know more. 

“It was sold with everything else when I died,” she says carefully, making sure to link their fingers together as she says it, hoping the way she squeezes his hand lets him know she doesn’t blame him, his guilt for making that decision for her still lingering every time it was mentioned, “I was surprised Mother didn’t take it - she was the one who got it for him. But…she had all my things sold,” she smiles sadly, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as she thinks about it. About how her mother had all but wiped any memory of her from the face of the earth. She knew it was likely a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the fact her only child was dead, but Emily liked to think if it had been her she’d have made a different decision. 

Aaron drags her in for a quick kiss, his hand on her cheek as he encourages her closer to him, unable to bear to not kiss her any longer, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better than that.” 

She smiles and kisses him, letting her lips linger against his for a moment longer than necessary as she tries to convince herself that he’s right, drawing the comfort from him that only he had ever truly been able to provide. 

“I never understood their relationship. They loved each other, just not in the way I ever wanted to love someone,” she says, looking down at his chest again, at the random patterns she was drawing on his shirt as she willfully ignores the fact they hadn’t told each other how they felt yet. The words unspoken but felt in everything they did for each other, a gentle kind of love they both thought was beyond them, “Mom got Dad the watch for his 40th birthday. It had this engraving on the back of it - See You in Paris,” she smiles sadly as she sighs, “It was their favourite place. It’s where I always remember them being at their happiest.” 

“Paris?” 

She laughs, an edge of bitterness to it as she nods, “Yeah, Paris,” she says, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “The universe has a sense of humour apparently.”  

There’s so much he wants to say, an apology he knows she won’t accept trapped in his chest as he stares at her, but in the end he settles on kissing her, pulling back just enough to speak as he rests his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for telling me.” 

She smiles, familiar love for him burning in her chest, desperately trying to escape as she presses her lips together to hold it in place, still worried it was too soon to say anything. 

“Thank you for asking,” she replies quietly, kissing him once more before she rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. He immediately re-starts running his hand up and down her back, the warmth of him drawing her in, making her feel heavy and light in equal measure, “Goodnight, honey.” 

He hides a smile in her hairline as she yawns and he kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

He lays there as she falls asleep against him, an idea forming in his mind before he joins her, his grip on her never loosening.

___

Aaron pauses outside Penelope’s office, his hand frozen in place as he hesitates to knock, wondering if he is making the right decision. Before he can talk himself out of it the door swings open and Penelope shrieks, her eyes wide as she places her hand on her chest. 

“Sir, sorry,” she says, clearing her throat before she steps back to let him into her office, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

“That’s okay,” he says as he closes the door behind him, “I wanted to ask you something-”

“If this is about the checks I did on Henry’s school, I was only checking if-”

“No, it’s not about…” he frowns as he trails off, raising his eyebrow at her, “Should it be about that?” 

She shakes her head, “No definitely not,” she says, taking a seat at her desk, “How can I help?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, hesitancy he doesn’t like washing over him, “If I ask you to look for something for me, can it just be between us?” 

Penelope’s eyes go wide, the idea of being in on a secret exciting her, “Of course,” she says, before she gasps, her eyes somehow even wider, “Is this Emily related?” 

He hides a groan as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Yes.” 

Penelope covers her mouth, physically holding her excitement in as she shifts closer to him on her chair, “Oh my god, are you going to propose?” She asks, and he glares at her, his stern gaze forcing her to calm down, “Okay, no proposal…yet,” she says, “How can I help?” 

“When Emily…” he clears his throat, “When she died all of the things in her estate were sold on in an auction. Do you think you could track one of those things down for me?” 

He sees the flash of pain across her face, how she struggles to push it away before she nods, “Just tell me what you need bossman, and I’ll find it.” 

He smiles gratefully at her and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, all of the details about the watch written down on it, “And remember-”

“Not a word of this to Peaches or anyone else,” she says as she takes the piece of paper from him, a sense of determination overtaking her as she turns back to her computer, and he knows this is one secret Penelope Garcia will keep.

___

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Emily asks, smiling as Aaron meets her eyes from  where he’s standing. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving her a delicious hint of his forearms, the muscles shifting under his skin from where he’s washing dishes. 

“I’m all done, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a dish towel and drying off his hands, “Do you need more wine?”

She shakes her head and grumbles, “What I need is my boyfriend to come over here and make out with me.” 

He chuckles and nods, pulling one of the drawers in his kitchen open, blowing out a quick breath before he lifts the large jewellery box out from where he’d hidden it under a towel. The search for the watch had been a little tricker than he’d hoped. In the last couple of weeks, he’d almost given up hope, and at times he’d only been bolstered by Penelope’s seemingly unending optimism that she’d find it. When she did she’d called him, her excitement so loud Emily had heard her from his phone while standing on the other side of the room. He’d brushed off her curiosity and was grateful when she didn’t ask any further questions. The nerves he’d felt when he first thought of doing this for her return in full throttle as he walks over to the couch, a piece of her history gripped firmly in his hand. 

“Before we get to that,” he says, sitting next to her, holding the box out so she can see it, “I got you something.” 

She hums curiously and sits up straight, placing her glass of wine down before she takes the box from him, “I haven’t forgotten our 10-week anniversary or something have I?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, his hand heavy and warm on her thigh, “Is that a thing?” 

She shrugs, “If it is, I owe you a blow…” she drifts off, her joke dying in her throat as she opens the box, her mouth hanging open as he looks at the watch. She chokes on a laugh as she looks between him and the watch, words escaping her for a moment as she shakes her head, the conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago coming back to her, “They don’t even make this model anymore.” 

Aaron squeezes her thigh as he watches her run her finger over the bezel, her touch delicate as if she’d damage the steel, “It’s not a duplicate sweetheart,” he says gently, his smile soft as she looks up at him, her eyes shining, “It’s your dad’s.” 

She frowns as she pulls the watch out of the box and turns it over, her breath catching in her chest as she looks at the engraving on the back, as if she hadn’t quite believed him until she saw it. 

See You In Paris

She presses her thumb into it, and feels the dips and curves of the metal, a habit she’d picked up when her mother first gave it to her. One of the few ways she felt close to her father after she lost him. She looks up at Aaron, her vision blurry as tears push at the back of her eyes. 

“Aaron…” she breathes out, his name caught on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “How did you find this?” 

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he hasn’t just given her back a piece of herself she thought was lost, “I asked Garcia to help,” he says, smiling when her eyes get wider, “She found the guy who bought it and I bought it back from him.” 

She holds the watch tightly as if it would disappear and presses it against her chest. She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. She places her other hand over her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips as she tries to gather herself, her nerves shot at the unexpected kindness and love he’d shown her. 

He watches her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face as she sits perfectly still, the watch grasped against her chest and her eyes screwed shut. Anxiety bubbles in his gut and he squeezes her leg, “Sweetheart, if this was a bad idea-”

“I love you,” she says, her eyes flying open as she cuts over him. Tears splash down onto her cheeks as she laughs and shakes her head. She looks at the watch and then back at him, her spare hand cupping his cheek as she drags him into a kiss, “This is…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I love you so much.” 

He smiles and hugs her close, her hand with the watch still clasped in it pressed in between them. He kisses her temple and then her cheek before he tilts her head up to kiss him.

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you.” 

She laughs, the sound wet as it sticks in her throat, and he wipes some tears from her cheeks, “Thank you,” she says, the words not feeling anywhere close to enough as she rests her forehead against his, “This is…” she blows out a shaky breath, “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I can’t give you the 7 months you lost back,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “And I can’t undo anything you’ve been through,” he wraps his hand around the one holding the watch, “But I can do this.” 

She shakes her head at him and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “I love you,” she says again, the words she’d been afraid of saying for weeks suddenly the only thing she could say, slipping past her lips with ease now she’d said them. 

“I love you too,” he repeats, running his hand up and down her back. She sinks into his embrace, her eyes closed as she breathes him in.

“I can’t believe Pen didn’t let it slip,” she says as she pulls back, wiping her cheeks, “She’s terrible with secrets.” 

He laughs loudly, the sound reverberating around them and he nods, “Well, I think I won’t be so lucky if I get her to help me propose when the time comes.”

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider, the thought of marrying him, even this early on in their relationship, not scaring her as she knows it would with anyone else, “I think she might surprise you.” 

When they get married 18 months later, Aaron wears her father’s watch, the weight of it against his wrist feeling like a promise as he watches Emily walk towards him. 

-x-

I think I might have to add 'watch' to the list of inanimate objects I've made emotional thanks to these two...

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