#and then i went and did my own thing even more outrageously

[iamthemain-character]

Are Your Ears Burning? 18+ only - Minors DNI

astarion x fem!reader

CW: smut, masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), astarion being a brat

A/N: If you know me irl, no you don't (lovingly)- otherwise, welcome to my first smut fic (i need to be put down like a dog). Also shout out to S.H. for being an editor and proofreader, cause my asexual ass don't know shit <3 can't wait to live in the asylum with you when our delusions take over our brains

bg3 masterlist

You couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 

Life out on the open road was exhausting, and often far dirtier than you’d like, and most days you just wanted to collapse into your bedroll once the night sky blanketed the camp. Although, when the travel was not so long and the days were a little bit calmer, your mind would finally be able to think of other things than sheer survival. But that was where the real battle lay, and you had no defenses against your opponent. 

The most beautiful bastard to ever walk the earth, otherwise known as Astarion.

It was truly horrible. The elf vampire’s mere existence was enough to send your body fluttering. The way he would lounge by the fire, feet reaching for the warm, head tilted to face the heavens. Or when he would put on his armor, dexterous fingers flexing as he tightened leather straps. It didn’t help that Astarion was an outrageous flirt, who knew exactly how to lower his eyes just so, or how to change his voice to a vocal caress. Sometimes you wondered if he could possibly read your mind, if he was amused by how utterly pathetic you became the moment he said your name. 

Perhaps it would have been easier if he could, because then you wouldn’t be caught in the dilemma you found yourself in. You know of Astarion’s background, knew that he was trying to undo two centuries worth of pain and hurt. And for that reason you didn’t dare speak your desires to him, not willing to chance the fact that you might ruin what little healing he had found. 

At the end of the day, however, you still were just a woman. And it was in the twilight of a long day that you retired to your tent, hot and flustered from so much more than the campfire. Your core ached, desperate to find some sort of release for the sheer amount of arousal it was constantly put through. But of course, when you thought of pleasure, it was the face of Astarion that came to mind. But that was not a path you were willing to go down. 

Tentatively, you moved to lay on your bedroll; even though you were completely alone, and well within your own right, you felt embarrassed as you took off your shoes, your pants soon cast aside as well. You lay back, taking a deep breath as you attempted to clear your mind, to relax and enjoy yourself. You began as you always did, fingers trailing over your opening, touching the spots that you knew would make you feel good. 

Except when the first wave of pleasure hit, all your mind could think of was Astarion. His pale face, with those alluring ruby eyes filled your mind, and you found your lips longing to utter his name. It shocked you for a moment, but you couldn’t help but note the way the thought of him had made the experience more enjoyable. 

You struggled within yourself, questioning the morality of thinking of Astarion for your own pleasure. You had no right to him, and aside from his flirtatious nature, you weren’t even sure he wanted you in that way. So you resolved to push any thoughts of your white-haired companion away, resorting to sheer pleasure to satisfy yourself. 

You went for where the aching was in your core, fingers pushing through your own soft folds, gathering the slickness that had already collected in just the few moments. You carefully pushed into yourself, breath catching as you maneuvered through the first ring of muscle. Slowly, you pumped your fingers in and out, taking care to brush against your sensitive inner wall. To your dismay, however, the feeling of your fingers within yourself didn’t bring you nearly as much pleasure as you had hoped. Your mind betrayed you, focused on how it was woefully your own hand and not a certain vampire spawn companion’s. 

You slipped in another finger in an attempt to help fill you up, and your mind drifted to Astarion. What would it feel like if it had been his cock inside of you instead, pushing up against your center. Would he be thick, stretching you out around him? Or would he be long, needing to encourage you to keep taking him in. Your fingers picked up their pace, desperation starting to take root as your longing for the real thing increased. 

With a jolt, you caught your ruminating thoughts, heat burning through your face rather than your core as shame coiled in your stomach. Frustrated, you removed your own hand, a little miffed at how difficult your hopeless crush on the elf had made your life. You took a deep breath, moving onto a different tactic; if you couldn’t control your thoughts, you wouldn’t think at all. Your clit had already swelled a little from the arousal, and as you brushed your fingers over the bump, it produced a satisfying thrill up through your body. 

You began working the bud with your fingers, a soft sound escaping you as you felt your pleasure increase in your body, responding to the stimulation. You allowed your mind to grow hazy with the sensations, little prickles of pleasure running through your hips and legs, giving your body the experience it had been craving. 

You pressed on your clit more firmly, touching yourself with more intensity as your body grew hotter and hotter. Little noises escaped with your uneven breathing, the pleasure unable to be constrained to your body and escaping into the air. You had to be careful, your tent was in a circle of your companions’ after all, but your need overruled any real sense of propriety. You continued to vocalize your pleasure, whispered “pleases” mixing in with the quiet noises that escaped you the more you felt pleasured. You could almost hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, murmuring words of encouragement, of praise, enticing you closer and closer to your climax. 

“Astarion…” You groaned, unable to resist the way it so easily came to your lips. 

Little did you know that just outside your tent, crouched beside the very wall of tarp that you were next to, the man himself sat, pointed ears listening intently to your sounds. Astarion had no intentions of listening into your private moment as he had walked past your tent, but the moment he had heard his own name moaned out, your voice so sinfully needy, he had rooted himself to the spot. It didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening, the scent of your arousal, damp and slick on your hot skin, told him all he needed to know. So he sat there, listening intently, his own hunger growing, tightening the leather of his trousers. 

Your breath came out in little pants as you felt the coil burn hot in your lower abdomen, ready to spring at any given moment. How you longed for Astarion’s actual touch, for him to help you along; instead, however, you contented yourself with a final swirl of your forefinger, and the coil snapped. Warmth swelled in the center of your body, and your body sank into the thin bedroll, satisfaction easing the tension that had plagued you for so long. You pulled your hand away from your body, letting it fall beside your trembling thighs. As soon as the initial high was over, however, guilt poisoning the ecstasy, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. No matter how hard you had tried, you couldn’t get the beautiful elven man out of your head, the stupid bastard. 

“You did so well, darling. So good, coming for me just like that.” You could almost imagine his voice purring to you. 

Except you didn’t imagine it. 

Your eyes fly open, and standing at the end of your bed was Astarion himself, a beautifully wicked smirk curled across his lips. His ruby eyes gleamed with gratification, looking as pleased as can be as his gaze drank in the sight of your dripping folds. 

With a start, you broke from your blissful haze, scrambling to cover yourself; Astarion, however, had other plans, pouncing on you immediately, grasping your wrists and pinning them to your sides. “No no, darling, don’t get shy now.” He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “You don’t get to act coy, not when you called out my name. This is mine to enjoy, and you’re not taking it from me.” 

Astarion punctuated his words by bringing your messy fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he tasted you. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as he savored your flavor. “So sweet, darling…I simply must have more.” 

Your mind was still caught in shock, lost for words as he shifted down your body, hands caressing from your wrists, following the path of your arms as he trailed further and further downward. He knelt into his position of worship, finding the altar between your thighs, more than ready to taste the wine of your body. Despite how needy he felt, he wanted to savor this moment, the way he finally had your truest feelings laid bare before him. 

“Were you truly so desperate for me, love?” He purred, rubbing his nose against your soft inner thigh. “Our perfect little hero of the realm, fucking herself on her fingers, crying out my name. How perfectly filthy.”

“I...I just needed-”You feel beyond embarrassed, being caught in such a personal moment, but even more so being caught by the very man you were using to get off. 

Astarion, however, was the furthest thing from displeased, chuckling as he pushed on your legs, sighing happily as his face was smooshed between your plush thighs. “I know what you needed, pet. You could have just asked, you know; I would have been more than happy to oblige.” 

You inhale a sharp breath, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, a flicker of concern tightening around your heart. “I don’t ever want to put you in that position again…”

Astarion faltered, his heart melting a little as he realized what you were insinuating. He moved back up to hover above you, the cool leather of his pants stretched over his knees as they pushed up against your thighs, effectively keeping your legs wide open for him. He gently stroked your waist–better than the way you had imagined–his slightly dry fingertips soft as he mapped out the curve of your form. 

“You could never.” He says, his creamy voice quiet as he spoke, the most earnest you had ever seen him. His eyes matched the color you felt in your heart, heated and passionate. “You are nothing like him, or any of them. You…” He leaned in, and he pressed his lips to yours. His whole body leaned into you, craving the warmth he could feel radiating off. “You have proven time and time again that you see me as more than a body.” Astarion whispered against your lips, his own still brushing them. “You have given me a place to call home, to not constantly have to protect myself. And now that I’m not just trying to survive…” He moved his lips to your neck, biting gently. “I find myself wanting.”

His meaning was clear in his words, sending tingles up your body from how much more it excited you. “You have to know now just how much I feel about you..how I adore you.” You reach up a slightly shaky hand, cupping his sharp jawline into your palm. He leans into it, hands tightening into a possessive grip on your waist, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. 

“It cannot possibly match just how much I adore you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your palm. His eyes flit open again, glancing at yours. “And I would like to show you, if you’ll let me.” 

Your breath catches as your heart skips, heat curling in your stomach again. Unable to trust your voice you give him a silent nod, the need evident in your gaze. 

Astarion presses one last kiss to your lips before he returns to his irreverent worshiping, his slender hands wrapping around your thighs, nails pressing into your skin as if to mark you as his. He brings his face the slit between your folds, and he inhales deeply, a satisfactory sigh leaving him. You clench around nothing, his warm breath scattering across your damp skin making your body tingle with arousal. 

“Look at her, already so beautiful and ready for me.” He murmurs, pressing his pointed nose into the little crevice above your clit. He darts his tongue out, flicking the swollen bud, smiling as he feels the twitch of your body in reply. “But look at her, poor thing…she deserves tact, and true pleasure, not just a brutish push to an orgasm. Never fear, my love..” He pauses, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “I am here to take care of you as you deserve.” 

Astarion rolls out his tongue, pressing it flat against the opening between your softness, and he drags it upwards. He hums with delight, just the hint of your essence making him greedy for more. He pushes through the soft flesh, dragging his tongue expertly up and down, lapping up the mixture of arousal and release that remains. 

You can’t help the soft noises that escape you, no words being able to describe how you’re feeling, the sensations too strong to remain within you, finding their release through your vocal cords. This only spurs Astarion forward, however, who continues swiping his tongue through your vulva, unabashedly hungry in his consumption of you. The only breaks you receive are when he occasionally pauses to tell you how perfect you are, or how good you taste, or how much he adores you. The moment the elf finishes vocalizing his sentiments, however, he returns to your body, working his tongue over and over again. 

You find yourself wishing you could have had this first, Astarion’s actions surprisingly better than your own, as if he was simply meant to know your body in this way. Had you not been so entirely consumed with the sensations his mouth were bringing you, you might have had the notion to be irritated, but instead you only found yourself delighted by his uncanny ability to find the places that pleasured you the most. 

While Astarion could have happily just kept dragging his tongue over you like a man dying of thirst, he wanted to continue focusing on your pleasure. It delighted him, being able to give pleasure because of his affections he felt, with no ulterior motives, and he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. His shifts a little, easing his tongue into your opening, his body jolting as he feels you gasp and tighten on the muscle. Teasingly, he moves his tongue, easing you open again, sliding it as far as he can get. He presses his face as far into you as he can, taking full advantage of vampires’ lack of needing air. He presses his nose against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly, building up a rhythm with his tongue as he moves it  in tandem with his teasing nose. 

He feels a surge of satisfaction as you moan, grinding your body against his face, letting him delve deeper into your soaking cunt as he gets more and more drunk on your taste. He can feel you getting close from all the stimulation, the way his hands have to keep you from closing your thighs around his head–not that he’d mind going that way, but he has other plans for you. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love….taste so sweet, being so filthy on my tongue.” He murmurs, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit, and you nearly lose it from hope the vibrations rumble through your flesh. “You’ll be a good girl for me and come, won’t you? Let me taste my saccharine reward.” 

“Astarion, I…” You’re not really sure what you’re trying to say, thoughts increasingly difficult to form with every flick of his tongue against your tense inner muscles.

“I’m here, my darling…my beautiful woman…” He presses a kiss with his lips to your labias, a sweet gesture compared to his demanding tongue and insistent nose. “Let yourself go. Baptize me in your glory, please.” 

He’s begging you. Tongue pushed deep into your core, pointed nose steadily pressing into your bud, Asatrion is begging you to come on his face, and you don’t have the strength– nor the desire– to deny him. 

“Astarion!” You moan out, hips bucking against his face as the tension snaps, your body going slack against him as warmth courses through your muscles. 

Astarion feels a surge of delight and satisfaction as he feels his face dampen, and he forgets any rhythm with his tongue as it greedily laps at you, as if he needs every last drop of your release to survive. You can barely make out his murmurs, only catching your name and words of praise here and there. You whimper as he licks at you, the sensation bordering on overstimulation for your pleasured body, but you can’t deny the ache feels good. 

Finally, Astarion’s face pulls away from your warmth, and he presses one last soft kiss to your swollen clit, inhaling deeply to take in your scent once more. He sits up, reaching a hand out to brush back the hair sticking to your forehead. 

“You alright darling?” He asls warmly, smiling down at your flushed and dazed face. 

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to collect yourself. “I’m…I”m wonderful…perfect actually..” You glance over him, and feel your stomach flip as you see the obvious bulge in his pants. “Astarion, you-” 

He waves you off, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Do not push yourself, dearest. I wouldn’t want to break your pretty little body on our first night together.” 

“I want you to break me.” You blurt out, heat rushing to your ears as you drop your gaze. As if you weren’t already a trembling and aching mess from the most thorough and pleasurable eating out you’d ever received. Yet somehow, with Astarion, it was never enough. “Please.” 

For a moment, Astarion just gazed down at you, his wine-colored eyes deep in thought as he seemed to consider you. Finally, he smiled, and he reached down, untucking his shirt. “You are so perfect, darling, you know that?” 

Even after all that you’ve experienced, your body burns with arousal again as you watch him remove his shirt, tossing it aside without a care. For a moment, you feel you might faint when he tells you you can touch him, but you manage to stay conscious. Your trembling hands caress over his smooth chest, feeling the cool, pale skin, and the lean muscles that it encases. Astarion shivers at your touch, adoring how he simultaneously feels both adored and wanted. 

He unlaces his trousers, disposing of those and his underwear, watching your expression carefully.

The heat in your center doubles, and you already ache for friction, for him as you gaze at his body. His cock is long, erected upwards as he takes in the mess he’s already made. Veins curve around the shaft, dark against his taut, pale skin. You shudder as a thrill runs up your spine as you imagine how that will feel, and you wonder if you can die from anticipation. 

“Is this what you imagined, darling? Or have your wicked fantasies bested me?” Astarion teases, his voice low as he returns to his position, howevering over you. He dips his head down, nibbling at your ear before moving down to press a trail of kisses across your neck. 

“You are far better than anything I could have imagined, though...I’m not sure this isn’t fantasy.” You breathe out, feeling dizzy from his proximity. 

“This is very much so reality, darling.” Astarion murmurs into your skin. “And I have every intention of proving it.” 

He leans up a little, just enough so that he can grasp your hips, lifting them to meet his body. As you watch him bring his member to your opening, you wonder if you will ever remember how to breathe. But suddenly, you feel him push in, and suddenly all you can focus on is just how right it feels.

 He takes his time, though it's easy for him to slip in, your body plenty wet from your arousal. He groans your name softly as he feels you clench down, as if your body is demanding to have more without delay. He happily obliges, pushing forward a little more intently, watching to ensure you are comfortable. 

You have no qualms, however; every inch you receive sends little waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You wonder how you ever lived without this, the desperate ache inside of your core easing away as he fills you up. As he gets closer to his base, it becomes a bit of a stretch, your body not quite used to the length, but your moan is full of appreciation rather than pain. 

Astarion bottoms out, a deep breath escaping him as he does. “My darling…” He murmurs, caressing his hands up and down your hips. His eyes are hazy, his body thrumming with heat, with the sheer ecstasy of being so deeply intertwined with you. 

Your own body is pulsing, and you grow a little greedy, your hands grasping at his pale strands of hair. “Astarion...m-more…please…”

Astarion moans again, amazed by how he could have someone so incredible possibly want him. “Do not fear, my love. I have every intention of giving you everything.”

Astarion pulls back his hips, pushing them back in a little quickly, his stomach lurching as he hears the gasp that escapes you. He repeats the motion, building up a steady pace as he thrusts in and out of your warmth. It's like your bodies need one another, crave the most carnal and yet loving intimacy that can be had. Astarion's hands firmly grasp your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can thrust deeper, a little harder as he does so. Both of you moan, the pleasure intensified through the new angle. Astarion stops being careful, pumping in and out of your soft body at a reckless pace, needing to chase the pleasure that continues to rise higher and hotter between the two of you. 

The two of you are lost to your ecstasy until you reach the height of it. You come hard and fast, your insides burning up from the tightly wound coil. You forget everything, calling out Astarion’s name without caring if others will hear it, clinging to him as your pleasure takes you. Astarion follows almost immediately after, hips stuttering before he just presses into you, allowing his hot release to fill up your body. Your thighs soon become slick as it spills out of your body, but you hardly notice, more focused on the sensation of Astarion’s body laying on top of yours. 

For a few moments, you both just lay there together, panting heavily, minds spinning from the sheer amount of bliss the two of you have created. Your hands stroke through his hair, his own hands still cupping your waist as if you are the only thing grounding him to the earth. 

“You are so perfect, my love..” Astarion whispers, his voice husky and low, barely a murmur in your ear. “Just positively divine.” 

You smile, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your own heart. “As are you. I feel absolutely incredible, thanks to you.” 

The white-haired elf chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Do not ever thank me, my darling. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of this was for my own pleasure. You will have to force me to only think of you, next time.” 

“Next time?” You echo, quirking a brow at him, hope fluttering in your chest.  Astarion’s smile curls across his flushed face, and he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Of course darling. I can’t have my beloved resorting to her own hands the next time she needs to feel good. Especially if I can be the one hearing you moan my name.”

[iri-desky]

iri my dear, you seem to know something about this. what is happening with dream/the dsmp. did they restart or smt? did dream say something stupid again?

im gathering its a mix of both of those but i have no clue if they correlate or idek:

HELLOOO Soda my friend!! Longtime no see!!

Okay so. Tw slurs and grooming mention

So, at one point, on Tommy and Jack's podcast, Shut Up I'm Talking, Tommy offhandedly, jokingly mentioned he didn't like Mizkif. This got Tommy in a little argument with XQC on twt-- it really wasn't anything that bad, they were just firing insults at each other, and it was mostly pretty silly (mainly on Tommy's side. XQC was just being salty but Tommy was handling it like "haha cringe" trying not to provoke too much). And TOTALLY UNPROMPTED. WITHOUT WARNING. MIND YOU THE SITUATION HAD LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. DREAM BARGES INTO THE THREAD AND PROCEEDS TO MAKE A MEME THAT SINGLEHANDEDLY CALLS TOMMY'S ENTIRE FANBASE THE R SLUR.

Literally. Now for obvious reasons people were outraged, and three hours later Dream comes back and claims that he doesn't understand the backlash by revealing in the weirdest way possible he actually doesn't just have adhd, and is also autistic (i add this comment every time I explain this; "uh, go off ig") and therefore can allegedly "reclaim it" (even though that's not how you reclaim slurs, and even then that specific word is so bad that even ND people want to kill it with fire).

Now obviously this set off a chain reaction of events and replies and people going nuts, including an asinine explanation post he made on reddit (now deleted, pictured below).

This went on up until recently, whereupon Tubbo decided to get involved and set up a stream with Dream to talk about it. Dream discussed a variety of things during the stream (here's a post that just outlines all the crap he said in a lighthearted way for your own sanity) but basically, dream victimized himself the whole stream (two or three hours) and basically kept on screwing himself by mentioning more and more insane crap that happened once upon I time?? To defend himself??? One of them actually involved confessing that he allowed p●rn to be shown in a vc involving minors back during smp era. What was he thinking. The most awful part is that he barely even mentioned the event that started this whole thing at all and just redirected all the attention to other things, which, unsurprisingly, just made him look WORSE.

Naturally, Twitter is going ballistic, which includes plenty of the old dsmp members and bloggers weighing in ("happy dsmp reunion everyone").

Friendly reminder that all of this could've been avoided if Dream didn't spontaneously stick his nose into an argument that didn't involve him in any way whatsoever.

TL;DR: yes, Dream said something very, very stupid again and Twitter is going insane. As time goes on and Dream tries to defend himself, he's SOMEHOW making all the moves that just make himself look much, much, MUCH worse.

Hope this helps 👍🏽👍🏽 !!

(I'll be marking this with all the usual tags, so if this helped anyone else understand the situation, feel free to like, reply, or reblog! I'm just happy to help)

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

WHEREVER YOU RUN AND WHEREVER YOU HIDE

STEVE HARRINGTON x F!READER

A haunted house ride, so much pining and teasing, and a wild chase with Steve more than determined to catch you before the end. 6K of best friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

"What is it with you and haunted houses? Do you not think we visit enough creepy places?" 

There was a scream from the attraction behind you as the boy spoke, a twisted cackle chasing at its heels and Steve glared when you snorted a laugh at the way he wrinkled his nose, hands shoved into his pockets as his eyes flickered to the house then back to yours once more. 

You simply shrugged in response, a teasing grin tugging at your lips that just barely peeked out from behind the thick wool of your scarf. "What's the matter Harrington? Can take on Demogorgons and bats no problem but teenagers in fancy dress is where you draw the line?"

It went this way every year that the Halloween fair rolled into Hawkins. You would be drawn to the Haunted House in all of its cliche blood-splattered glory, neon lights flashing like a beacon, the zombies that crawled around the outside of the house and beckoned you with rotting hands outstretched to come closer. 

And every year, Steve would pretend it was the worst thing in the world when you dragged him towards it, as if he was actually capable of denying you something you asked of him. Heels dug into the ground just enough that you had to work to get him there and a soft pout on the boy's face that melted into a fond smile, all indulgent and warm, the moment you weren't looking. 

It was threatening to make an appearance now, even as he rolled his eyes, seemingly determined to ignore the fact he was already giving in by matching every step you took backwards in the direction of the ticket booth with one of his own towards you. 

"S'real funny princess." He replied smoothly, a smirk on his pretty face and head cocked to the side as if he was forcing himself to think back to a memory that he would never admit was already seared into his brain. "Cause I could've sworn it was you hiding their face in my sweater last year, not the other way around." 

"Hey! Not fair, you know I hate dolls." 

You were trying your best to sound outraged, a voice full of faux-indignation that did nothing to make the boy appear apologetic. If anything he looked triumphant - the flash of the lights glinting off his steadily widening grin, eyes bright and too knowing.  

Because you were all flushed skin where your knitwear couldn't hide, a gaze that couldn't fully keep his whilst you were remembering the way your best friend had wrapped you up in his body. Tucking your head into his chest, one arm tight around your shoulders and a large hand encompassing both of your smaller ones. His lips a gentle pressure against your hair as he promised, 's'okay babe, I'll tell you when it's over'

And just like when you'd clumsily pulled away back then, all shy and flustered, Steve was forced to try his hardest to bite his tongue again now. To swallow the fierce urge he had to tell you something stupid, like just how fucking pretty you looked and how he wanted nothing more than to kiss the heat from your cheeks. 

Maybe even admit that holding you, regardless of how short it lasted, had made his entire night. 

Instead he hides his feelings behind a tease as his larger step towards you caused you to fumble your step back. The heel of your shoe caught on a rogue stone and Steve's arms reaching out to steady you as your lower-back knocked into the blunt edge of the currently empty ticket booth. 

"Easy there, princess." He cooed, eyes sparkling with mischief and his hands spanning your hips, thumbs crafting thoughtless circles over the fabric of your sweater that made the flesh beneath burn white hot. "Can't have you falling for me before I've even had the chance to play hero again." 

You suddenly hated the fact that Steve was a solid wall of warmth - summer kept alive beneath his skin - hated the way it melted you and the autumn chill that had crept inside your bones. The inch left between your bodies seemed to spark with heat, making you forget how to snap back when he crowded you like this. 

This was your best friend for fuck sake, and god , if he just leaned a little closer you were sure he would see right through you. 

To the thoughts you had tumbling around your skull, every pesky little feeling you'd ever had for the boy written in neon flashing lights to match the ones that adorned the house behind you. 

His lips twitched and he raised a brow at your lack of retort, smug and teasing, amused by his own cheesy joke and the way you gaped at him. 

"Y'know what Harrington–" You attempted to bite out, determined to ignore how the words sounded like a struggle even to your own ears. 

But then the tight grip of his hands was leaving your waist, drifting up to adjust the too large hat Eleven had knit for you that occasionally slipped a little far past your brow. His gaze softened a touch as he looked at it. 

Remembering how proud you'd been when the girl had shown you her work, the way you lit up when you realised it was for you, eyes bright and just a touch glossy, before pulling her into the most adoring hug he thinks he'd ever seen. 

Knowing if he hadn't already been in love with you then he would have fallen right then anyway. 

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare whilst he righted it. It felt like you were bound in place, caught up in some type of spell that only the boy in front of you was capable of weaving, a heady kind of magic that flowed solely between the two of you. 

You inhaled the scent of him, nose practically to his chest - the smell of crisp apple and something woodsy, the cinnamon sugar from the donuts you shared earlier still sweet on his breath - and grew dizzy with it, too warm when his fingers lingered longer than they should to toy with a lock of hair that fell out of place. 

Heart thudding at the soft noise that escaped from the boy's parted lips all because you shivered at the gentle way he swept the strands behind your ear. 

Shit - you hadn't been able to help it.

The touch had been light but no less gut-wrenching as it grazed your cheek and you realised too late that if your face didn't give you away, then surely the way your body reacted to him was about to.

He was close enough that he must have been able to hear the hitch of your breath despite the sounds that echoed from the ride, seen the way you swallowed hard as he watched you for what felt like an eternity before daring to lean a little closer. 

"What?" He prompted, voice dropping low. Hoarse. Honey eyes burning a little darker as they flickered down for a beat before darting back up in a way that made you feel like Steve wanted something he didn't think he was supposed to ask for. 

And then there was an awkward cough, sounding louder than it truly was, from behind you. The booth no longer unmanned as the attendant appeared to startle you both. 

The interruption brought you back to reality and Steve stumbled back as you swatted at his chest. Raking a shaky hand through the windswept mess of his hair with a rough chuckle when you managed to choke out a far too delayed 'you fucking wish',  before spinning to face the kid with your cheeks aflame. 

You just hoped that neither they nor Steve paid notice to the way you had to clear your throat before you trusted yourself to speak again. 

That they were oblivious to how your voice still cracked even then when you asked for two tickets and handed the money over with a sheepish 'thanks' . Ignoring the attendant's gaze that slid curiously between you and the boy at your back. 

"That's just mean, you're breaking my heart here, babe." Steve sighed, trying to sound less affected than he felt, nerves still tight in his throat but the words were spoken so soft that you didn't seem to notice. 

His lips brushed the shell of your ear when he felt brave enough to draw you into him once again, oblivious to the fact that you were still reeling."I let you drag me in here every year, use me as a human shield and this is the thanks I get?" 

"I could leave you to the first thing that attacks us instead if you want? I've still not forgiven you for bringing the dolls up again." You shot back, biting your lip at the smooth confidence he used to turn you in his hold and sling an arm over your shoulders, steering you both towards the overly-cobwebbed entrance. 

He scoffed, full of cheek as he prodded at your ribs."You wouldn't dare."  

And you wanted to curse the fact that it wounded some part of you deep down, how easy it was for him to act like nothing had happened. Like it hadn't fazed him in the slightest that the two of you had been seconds from risking your friendship by closing that gap. 

Thank fucking christ you hadn't. 

"Just watch me." You threatened, huffing and squirming, slapping at his hand because the boy refused to relent once he managed to pull a reluctant smile out of you. "I might finally get some fucking peace."

He gave a wounded gasp at that, a kicked-puppy look to his eyes that was almost as dramatic as the betrayal that flashed through his pretty features when you finally had enough of pushy fingers in your sides and shoved him into the path of the closest zombie. 

He tripped over his own feet in an effort to avoid them and swore. Much to the amusement of yourself and the actor, who upon seeing Steve come stumbling their way lunged the moment he got close enough, hands snatching for the boy and gore-slick teeth snapping shut just shy of his shoulder. 

It brought a cackle from your lips when the zombie suddenly reeled back and pretended to gag, hacking like Steve had left a god awful taste in their mouth. There was laughter from some of the people that passed to go into the house, a couple of "ewww gross" that came from little kids who pulled at their parents' hands and pointed. Tiny faces scrunched up with a horrified kind of curiosity.

You gave a victorious grin at the stunned look on his face, one that seemed to flicker from disbelief to questioning whether he should be offended before he rounded on you with hair wild from the struggle and narrowed eyes. Shooting you a look that clearly told you you're in for it. 

A smirk tugged at his lips, sly as your own grin fell, and when he spoke, you couldn't help the way it made you nervous. Your heart slamming up against the wall of your ribs, forceful enough that you were sure the boy would be able to hear it from where he stood.

"Oh princess, you're so fucking dead." 

"Wait, no Steve - Stevie - c'mon don't, I'm sorry." You pleaded. It was all you could manage when he was looking at you the same way a predator watches its prey, slowly closing the distance with a large step forward that dwarfed the one you took back. 

You had hoped the nickname would make him melt, tried to make your voice curl all sweet around it in the way that had always made Steve cave before. 

But he only chuckled, tutting soft and full of taunt. "Nuh uh, you don't get to say my name like that after you fed me to a zombie and just expect me to forgive you. Better run before I decide to take a bite of my own." 

Jesus fucking christ.

That shouldn't have made your lips part. It shouldn't have made you stare wide-eyed, breath caught in your throat and a bloom of warmth hitting your cheeks.

But, fuck , it did because Steve was prowling towards you with a careless hand running through his hair and a devilish look that somehow made him prettier than he already was, an unholy kind of handsome that made you want to drop to your knees at his feet.

Wasn't that a thought you didn't need in your head right now.

And so before he had the chance to tell that you were far more affected than you should be, undoubtedly able to see right through you like he always had, you decided to take his advice. 

You turned heel and bolted. 

There was a flood of smoke that surrounded you the moment you rushed through the door. Lights flashing candy-red and when you spared a glance at the heavy-framed portraits that adorned the walls whilst you ran, Steve's laugh and the heavy thud of his footsteps echoing behind you, it instantly gave you the eerie feeling of being watched. 

The place was a maze of doors. Some that led to creatures who were ready to pounce the second you appeared, a werewolf in chains that clanked as it howled and clawed at the floorboards, a killer clown who cackled as they lunged forward, hacking at the air with a blood-soaked kitchen knife.

They all whooped and hollered when you raced past them, manic yells of taunts that followed you down another hallway, around another corner where you nearly crashed into a girl all in white, throat torn and eyes milk-pale as she blinked at you. 

If you startled her she did a good job of not showing it, offering a simple warning that ' you can't run forever, the house always wins' before she drifted back to where she had previously been hidden, muttering and wailing as she went. 

She was gone before you could reply that it wasn't the house you were really running from but in fact your best friend. And that the only reason you were running through the attraction instead of taking your time to enjoy it like you had paid to, was because you couldn't handle how you burned with Steve's hands on you and the way you still ached to kiss him with his fingers dug into your skin and his laughter in your hair.

So instead you had 'fed' him to a creature of the undead and hell, maybe it was a good job the girl had disappeared before you could blurt any of that out, because you definitely sounded crazy and the boy that was supposedly chasing you was nowhere to be seen. 

It made you pause when you realised. 

Had you lost him?

It didn't seem likely. 

'Cause yeah, the attraction was like a labyrinth but Steve had navigated through much worse, much more disorientating places and faced things a lot scarier than a couple of kids in costumes because something or some circumstance had dared to separate the two of you. 

And really, after all of that, what chance did a haunted house stand against Steve Harrington's relentlessness when it came to finding you? 

It was why you stepped into the next room a little more warily, breath held and tiptoeing, cursing the floorboards that still groaned beneath your feet and you threw a suspicious gaze over your shoulder every now and again before quickly looking ahead once more.

This one was almost too dark, too creepy, lit only by the occasional flash of bright white that was supposed to be lightning coming from the shattered windows, strong gusts of air whistling through the cracked glass and made it seem like the room itself was groaning. 

You swore if some psycho possessed doll came running at you from out of nowhere then you would kill Steve for not being here for you to hide behind. Whatever revenge he had planned for you be damned. 

So when a hand smoothed over your head you were done. Over it. Prepared to run like hell the rest of the way out of this damn house because your throat burned from the embarrassing shriek you just let out, your cheeks hot, heart pounding, and there was still someone's spindly fingers petting at your hair. 

Catching lightly at the ends when you spun just in time to barely make out the shadow of a chuckling figure skulking back into the corner. 

An ichor-stained grin of razor-sharp teeth that split their whole lower face beneath their hood as the lightning cracked again and allowed you a split second of visibility to watch the mocking little wave they gave you. 

At the end of the night you would adamantly say it was their fault for what followed. 

Despite the fact that you should have known better than to take your mind off of Steve for more than a few minutes, that you don't enter through a new door without checking what lies beyond it at least once . 

But instead, you kept your gaze on your creepy friend with the smile.

Ignored what could possibly be in the next room in favour of watching for any signs they would run for you as you fled. Daring them with narrowed eyes to stay where they were whilst you retreated and your hand fumbled behind your back for the doorknob, cheering quietly when you finally felt the cool shock of metal.

The door clicked with a taunting kind of finality when you got it shut. The type that left a silence you knew you couldn't trust in its wake, a beat of it passing, two, surprised when you turned and stared down the length of a hallway to what seemed like the exit at the end. 

It wasn't what you had expected, gore and horror swapped for cobwebbed walls and rubber spiders and plastic bats with lopsided wings that hung from the ceiling. An antique grandfather clock and bookcases lining the room that were loaded with old tomes and trinkets.

The lights were softer than any of the previous rooms too, less pulsing neons and more steady waves of violet and midnight blue that, despite where you still were, instantly made you feel calm. Safer.

You should have known. 

You'd seen all the horrors. Watched countless victims make the same mistake over and over because the fact usually was, if someone or something looked harmless, if escaping ever looked too easy? As simple as a straight run to the way out? 

Chances were it was most definitely a trap. 

But you weren't thinking about horror movies. Not when whilst you were standing there, someone from deeper inside the belly of the house screamed, a shrill sounding thing that was enough for you to shake your head, muttering a soft 'nope' before your feet started forward on their own accord. 

And of course that was when it happened. 

There was a swinging creak, a whoosh of cooler air. Two large hands catching at your waist and dragging you against a broad, warm body, your back flush to the person's front and just when you were about to scream they spoke. A lightly stubbled jaw scraping along your cheek as they dipped their head to whisper. 

"Caught you, princess."  

What the hell? Where did he even come fr-

A quick glance to the side answered that. A fake bookcase. A hidden door. The type of thing you really should have seen coming.

God, you'd been beaten by a total cliché. 

It was enough to make you want to scream for a completely different reason, fear swiftly morphing to frustration, but then another question raised quickly in in place of the first and Steve must have sensed your confusion. 

"Remember Michael Reid, the kid I helped coach that summer?" He murmured, a touch smug, like he never planned on letting you live this down. "He's working this part and let me swap in when I told him there was someone in here I needed to teach a lesson."

You swore then, quick and hushed under your breath, a sound that made the boy behind you snicker into hair, utterly entertained by your reaction.

His broad chest was a rumbling warmth at your back and you could fucking feel the way his lips tugged into a shit eating grin when he notched his chin at your crown.

"Jesus christ, Harrington, think you could have managed it without giving me a fuckin' heart attack? Get off me." You snapped, barely any heat behind it, because despite your words you were that little bit delighted to see him. 

You were just also annoyed at yourself for losing, petulant that you'd known something was suspicious and yet still walked directly into your best friend's trap. 

And Steve knew it. Utterly unfazed by your sharp tone and your attempts to fight him off, simply pressing the smile that he knew would get him in trouble to the back of your head whilst you wriggled in his hold.

You swatted at his arms that wound around your stomach, fingertips pinching at nothing but the thick wool of his coat sleeves before you sagged back with a defeated groan when he somehow managed to cling to you tighter. Rolling your eyes, lips twisted to hide a smile because Steve sounded far too pleased with himself already as he curled you into him. 

"Aww c'mon don't be like that, didn't you miss me?" He tsked, laugh soft in his throat as he smacked his lips to your cheek in a quick, messy kiss, all charm and just a touch patronising whilst you huffed. "Bet it wasn't half as fun running around in there without me to hide behind." 

"I don't know about that," You muttered but it was full of tease, mischief, and you knew that he had picked up on it the moment you shifted to the side so you could turn your face to look back at the boy. He dipped his chin to meet your gaze. Nose just shy of bumping yours and a brow raised like a dare."It was nice not having you screaming in my ear every time something touches your hair." 

The effect was immediate. 

Because Steve broke the hold he had on so fast that you would have fallen had it not been for the warm weight of his hands quickly reappearing on your hips, spinning you around until your chest bumped against his.

Until you were face to face, sharing the same breaths, his expression akin to something both amused and insulted. Like he just couldn't wait to argue this with you.

Hopefully, he wouldn't notice how your mind instantly went blank. 

Because your best friend looked far too pretty up close, in this kind of light, softened by the faint purples and blues that slanted over the angles of his face, all wild hair curling at the edges from the heat inside the house and eyes near black in the dark. 

Jesus, did he have to look so good all the damn time.

"You take that back." He demanded, his voice far too fond to hold any real threat but you still shook your head, both to clear it of the effect Steve Harrington had on you and also because you couldn't resist the need to provoke the boy. Just a little, just like you always had. 

The way that both you and Steve would never admit to enjoying far too much. 

"And if I don't?" You countered, hands pressed to his chest in a little shove and chin raised in playful defiance as you grinned. "What're you gonna do, zombie Steve, eat me? " 

He stared, lips parted, cheeks a little pink, and made some kind of strangled noise before his grin reappeared, wolfish, voice scandalised. "Is that what you'd like? Want me to just eat you up right here? Never pictured you as the type, princess." 

Steve watched with delight then as you blinked, nose scrunched up in confusion for just a few adorable seconds and then your mouth fell open into a pretty little 'o' that had his grin splitting wider, eyes shining. Endlessly amused when you choked out his name in admonishment and grew flustered. 

"Not what I was talking about and you know it, Harrington." You spluttered. 

He pulled you to him, chuckling, as you covered your face with your hands. But you went with no more resistance than a quiet grumble passing your lips, a soft little noise of embarrassment that always made Steve's chest go warm for you. 

"S'not my fault you make it too easy." He shrugged, all feigned innocence, smiling too sweet as he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

You snorted from where you were buried in his coat, the grin you couldn't help hidden as you let him shuffle you both back until you were no longer stood in the centre of the walkway, careful not to trip on a rubber rat or the edge of the threadbare rug whilst he kept you close. 

And when the quiet was broken by a group spilling through the door, old classmates of yours and Steve's, you jumped and the boy gathered you a little closer than you thought possible, arms wrapping protectively around your shoulders before he realised they weren't some kind of danger and relaxed. 

They were too caught up in the effects of the house, too busy pushing and shoving, winding each other up over who had screamed the loudest, to really pay attention to the two of you entwined. Steve pressed to the bookcase and you pressed tight to Steve, legs tangled. 

And you were glad of their distraction when you recognised the voices, not really wanting to spend another year, or however long it took last time, with that familiar bitter taste in your mouth as you were forced to explain no, Steve and I aren't dating, no, there's really no chance of that changing and yes, we really just are best friends.

It sometimes made you wonder if they saw something you couldn't, what they saw at all when they watched the way the boy would blindly tug you into him whenever you appeared at his side, the way you'd fit yourself to him when he did, head resting lazily against his shoulder. 

There'd be soft smiles on your faces from the moment you were joined and every time Steve said something to you he would make sure to look down, gaze all kinds of warm as it roamed your features. 

A little like it was now when you drew back to peek up at him. 

You, on the other hand, were still burning, cheeks hot and a nervous kind of energy thrumming in your chest and the way the boy was looking at you was decidedly not helping. 

In fact, you were fully prepared to shove your face back into the soft wool of his scarf that smelled like him, attempting to cover the fact that you were trying to look anywhere but at your best friend because the image he had planted in your head refused to fucking leave . 

But then Steve was refusing to let you go back into hiding, refusing to let you watch your hands twist and untwist in his lapels like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He curled his fingers beneath your chin before you could duck your head again, tipping your face up and keeping your gaze fixed on his.

It was a branding kind of touch, once that demanded every ounce of attention you could possibly give and you swallowed, throat tight. 

"You're despicable, y'know that." You told him, blurted it out before you could make a fool of yourself staring at him any longer than you already had, a bit dumbfounded. Too stunned to function normally.

But it came out more breathless than you wanted, far less offended than you tried so hard to pretend and more like the situation had punched you straight in the chest. Broken ribs and true feelings spilling out through the cracks faster than you could hold them back.  

You wanted to wince but Steve was already failing to bite back a smile that was all tease and charm. Moving a little closer as he angled away from the shelves that were digging into his back.  

"M'sorry." He replied, sounding not very sorry at all, a little bit distracted because he couldn't stop his gaze from flickering down to your mouth. The hand that rested at your waist gave an absent-minded squeeze and he matched your shaky inhale when the pad of his thumb gently brushed the plush of your lower lip. "You're just so pretty when you get all flustered, couldn't help it." 

It sounded like an admission rather than a taunt. And by the way that Steve's eyes suddenly darted back to yours, slightly wide with nerves, you had to wonder if it was a thought he maybe hadn't meant to voice. 

But he had and now there was a rolling feeling in your chest, your stomach, like everything had flipped at the boy's words and you had to fight to stamp it all down, to keep your features completely neutral because what if it didn't actually mean what your silly little heart was hoping it did? It's not like Steve hadn't called you pretty before, right? 

Just maybe not like this. 

Not like it was something he'd spent time thinking about and wanted to do something about it. 

You forced a chuckle, a last ditch attempt at making a joke so you could save yourself from saying something truly stupid. "You tryin' to say I'm not pretty all the time, Steven?"

"If you don't stop calling me that, we're gonna have another problem." He warned back, but his voice was warm and there was a spark in his eyes that looked like newfound bravery when he shook his head. His nose nudging yours before he cleared his throat. "And no, that's definitely not what I'm saying, sweetheart. You've always been too fuckin' pretty."   

"Steve…" 

There was muffled shouts that grew loud, that any other time would have been deafening when the door flung open once more, the sound of the wood smacking off the wall drowned out by voices and pounding footsteps as another group fled. 

But the only thing you or Steve could see was each other, the way he was close enough that his breath fanned across your lips, tasting like sugar and Steve, the hint of mint underneath. The way your eyes had grown dark, a little wild with longing. 

The house drifted away, the screams, the manic laughter, the blood and the cobwebs and the lights that bathed you both in a soft haze of violet and navy. All of it disappeared the moment Steve licked his lips, a nervous habit, whilst he pressed his thumb to the corner of your own and whispered.

"Made it real impossible to not do the whole 'falling for your best friend' thing, y'know." 

He said it slow and soft, shyer than you'd ever seen him, eyes watching you carefully under the fringe of his lashes like he was praying he wasn't about to scare you away and shit , you thought, he really has no idea does he? 

And you couldn't help it. You laughed. 

Not unkindly, you could never, but a little strangled, a touch delirious because those words had set off a thousand fireworks in your chest and the feeling was so overwhelming, fizzing beneath your ribs, that it felt like it should have been a fever dream. 

Which would make sense. Because you had always been so sure that that would be the only way you would ever hear Steve say that he was in love with you. 

But no, this was real, and so was the faintly crushed look on Steve's face as he watched you laugh, completely misunderstanding, misinterpreting your disbelief for rejection and you quickly realised your mistake when he made to pull back. 

"Forget I said anything -" He began, swallowing hard, throat bobbing as he tried to mask the hurt and the words fell out of your mouth faster than your brain could keep up with, panic laced and frantic. 

"No - fuck , Steve- wait -" you begged, hands scrambling for his collar, for Steve's own hand that was slowly about to drop from your face and the boy stilled when you grabbed it and pressed it to your cheek, cradled within your own. A hesitant kind of hope in his eyes as you took a breath. "I wasn't laughing at you I swear, it's just, god , you have no idea how long I've wanted to hear those words from you and then you said them and I just -" 

"How long?"

"What?" 

"How long have you waited?" Steve repeated, a slow magic kind of grin appearing on his face that made your heart flip, your pulse doing its best impression of a hummingbird's heartbeat as he moved into you, a hand splayed at your back and his thumb stroking sweet arcs over your cheekbone. "Need to know how much making up I've got to do for being such an idiot and being too scared to tell you how I felt sooner." 

You laughed again, a little softer this time, a shade embarrassed because you had loved the boy in front of you for longer than you could remember and it felt crazy that after hiding it for so many years, you were finally about to tell him. 

"Oh y'know," you shrugged, fingers toying with the fabric of his scarf at the nape of his neck, hand sliding from its place atop of his to gently grasp his wrist. It was impossible to resist the smile that tugged at your lips as he leaned to touch his forehead to yours, eyes sparkling as he waited. "Not long, maybe ten years or so."  

If Steve was surprised he didn't show it, instead he looked at you like he understood completely. Like he knew himself how it felt to love your best friend that long. 

But still he let out a low whistle under his breath, trying to sound as serious as he could despite the way his cheeks had grown sore with the smile that lit his face. His heart misbehaving in his chest as he cupped your jaw. 

"That's a long time to make up for." He mused, voice hushed as he tilted his head, his mouth almost brushing yours as he spoke. 

The anticipation made you feel like you were going to implode. Electric beneath your skin. 

"It is." You agreed, just as quiet, curling a hand around his neck and leaning a little heavier against him because you suddenly felt far too unsteady. "What are you going to do about it?" 

His breath hitched a little at your soft-spoken challenge but still he couldn't resist a final tease. "You askin' me to kiss you for the first time in a haunted house?" He tsked. "I know you love them but if you think we're comin' back here every year for our anniversary-"

"Harrington?" 

"Yeah, princess?" 

"Shut up and kiss me" You huffed, smile fond, sighing against the boy's mouth when he gave a breathtaking grin and did just that. 

It was a gentle push of his lips to yours, a sweet, warm, languid thing that pulled a soft noise from your throat and made your chest feel like it was gonna burst because your best friend was kissing you like you were the most precious thing in his life, like he'd waited a lifetime for this moment and wanted you to know he'd happily spend another just like this.  

He gripped you a little firmer as you melted into him, a golden feeling fizzing in his belly and a lovesick kind of smile on his lips when you murmured something sweet and pushed up on your toes for more. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling, tugging, and when you licked softly at his bottom lip to ask him to open for you, the boy gifted you with a low, quiet groan before giving you what you wanted. 

The sound was enough to make you feel drunk, dizzy on the way his tongue slid against yours and that Steve got greedier, a little messier, the instant you gently nipped at him. His hand fused to your jaw and your own name pressed into your mouth on a hitched breath as he kissed you over and over and over.

And when you finally parted, it was with glassy-eyed looks, kiss swollen lips and heaving chests. Disgustingly sweet grins that didn't even falter when another group came barreling through and reminded the two of you, quite ear-splittingly, that you were still very much inside of an attraction. 

Instead Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, your nose, another two to both your cheeks whilst he pushed away from the bookshelf and wrapped both arms around you to spin you in a crushing hug. 

"Steve put me down!" You laughed, a bright burst that made the boy light up even more and when you finally got away, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, he stole your heart all over again with the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen.

A hand reaching out for you to place your own in as he asked. "Wanna get out of here? Maybe find somewhere a little less creepy where we can talk and make some more of that time up?" 

And how on earth could you say no to that? To Steve and the way he was looking at you, slightly shy, like his lips weren't still glossy from your kisses. 

You couldn't. Never had been able to if you were honest. 

So you placed your hand in his, heart fluttering when he smiled soft at the way your fingers so easily entwined, and let him lead you to the exit. To something new, to something far more exciting than any haunted house could ever be. 

Taglist: @the-witty-pen-name

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: thanks for the love on part 1 – the longer messages ive gotten have been so nice! i hope this 2nd part doesnt disappoint!!

Wordcount: 5.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Another little thing. Cute until it wasn’t.

“You can’t be serious, oh my God,” you heard loud complaints coming from the door mat after the door slammed shut. You pushed yourself further into Joe’s sofa in a bad attempt to hide yourself away, because you knew exactly what was coming.

“In my flat?”

The endless bickering over the thermostat was another little thing to be swept under the rug.

Dramatic loud footsteps came closer at rapid speed. When you looked up from your toasty cosy little comfy spot on his sofa, you saw Joe barge in, losing his coat as he was walking, straight over to where the thermostat was.

“In my fucking flat?!” he made eye-contact, facial expression wild as he kept walking, arms moving to take his sweatshirt off next.

There was a small chance that the deep frown would quickly make way for a cheeky grin. Sometimes, it did.

“It’s like a fucking sauna in here– twenty-four degrees?!”

But the cheeky grin never came.

Which was honestly a real shame, because Joe’s hair had gotten all ruffled up from the sweater he just pulled over his head, and when he turned to look at you with a hand already going ham on the minus button, you couldn’t help the laugh that startled out of you.

“Unbelievable. Unacceptable. She can’t be seriou–” Joe turned the heating down to a much more reasonable, in his opinion, eighteen and a half degrees Celsius.

You couldn’t help the cackling at Joe’s outrage. He’d pulled half his T-shirt up when he’d discarded layers, and you were given a lovely view of his bare lower back. Everything about your view was lovely, and had one of your friends been there, you would’ve both laughed at him. Or, at least, given each other secret smirks.

Joe then turned around and looked at you, face set in a deep frown, and said, “You cannot be serious, how is this comfortable to you? It’s absolutely boiling in here, like I just stepped off of a plane in fucking, I don’t know, fucking New Delhi, or whatever.”

He then strode across the room to open a window, to which you finally spoke up.

“No! Not the window, it’s so windy out–” before you could finish your sentence, Joe cut you off with a loud, “It feels like an oven in here!”

The window got opened anyway.

“No, oh my God, it’s subzero out there!” you emerged from your cocoon of blankets where you’d sat nestled into the corner of Joe’s sofa to climb over the back of it in an attempt to fight Joe and close the window.

“Feel my hands!” you got your hands on him, grabbed his T-shirt whilst still half on the sofa, feet digging into the seat.

“No!”

“Joe, feel my– here, feel them, feel my fingers!” you managed to shove a cold hand into his neck that made him yelp.

And sure, the wrestling that followed after where you got shoved back onto the sofa as Joe forced you back onto it was cute.

The loud, “What the fuck, your body is broken!” that came from him as you put both your hands under his T-shirt whilst giggling was cute.

It was cute that Joe then went, “Come here!” and would wrap himself all around to let his body warm you. The endless days under the covers, bodies tightly entangled just because you’d shiver out of your own skin with the heating off was cute. Chattering your teeth together, lips going fucking purple after a shower, the cold air making your wet hair feel even colder against your skin was cute, because then Joe’d be like, “Let’s get you toasty.” before wrapping the both of you up in a throw blanket on the sofa which was cute.

You’d even argue it was cute that Joe’d find you standing in front of the oven after he’d made dinner, catching the warm air as the whole thing cooled down with the door open, and instead of making fun of you, he’d join you there, hugging you from behind so you got warmed up from either side.

But cute had an expiration date.

The cuddling started becoming a task.

The never-ending secret fiddling with the thermostat became really fucking annoying.

It was all cute, until suddenly, it wasn’t anymore.

It was cute until you couldn’t even use your phone in his living room because your fingers hurt.

Sort of cute until your shoulders were sore from pulling them up against your ears for hours straight.

Until Joe started making comments about you paying his gas bill because every time you were over, you’d complain about frozen toes until he would turn the heating up a little.

Until Joe started yelling at you when you would turn and leave the heating on, even if you weren’t in, because you didn’t want to come home to a freezing flat.

Until Joe would yell at you for leaving the heating on in your own flat.

It was one of those things that had eventually added to all the absolute shit that your relationship had become and why, ultimately, you had decided to step out.

The forever, why is it fucking boiling in here coming from him, and the forever, I’m cold, are you cold? coming from you became something that got swept under the rug until you tripped over the hump it left there.

Just another little thing. Cute until you started wondering if it ever even really was…

It’s cold.

Not quite freezing, but definitely cold. It’s thick-coat-warm-scarf kind of cold, but in the sun it’s nice. You need sunglasses to be able to read the words on the pages in front of you, it’s so bright, but this is your favourite type of autumn weather, and the spot you’ve found is just perfect.

Sitting outside, you let your fingers be warmed by a drink and get to enjoy London the way you like best; surrounded by hustle and bustle, but hidden away in your own little world as you let your mind be fully consumed by the book you’re reading.

This is nice.

You almost like it more than going for a coffee with a friend.

Just a little bite of something. A little sip of something else. A couple of pages of plot. Sun on your face.

It’s nice.

You are completely unsure what prompts you to look up, but you do, and you can’t quite believe yourself when you notice Joe walk past.

What the fuck?

You could’ve looked up from your reading at any other time. Could’ve gone for a sip of your drink at any other given moment.

Could’ve missed him.

Should’ve missed him.

But you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. You notice him as he strides past, and he seemingly doesn’t see you. He’s gone before you even get to think about saying hi. Of letting him know that he’s just walked past his ex-girlfriend who, not too long ago, invited him into her bed even though she was seeing someone then.

Was.

It’s fine. He wasn’t right for you, and waking up to Joe still asleep on your side of the bed only confirmed those early doubts.

You suppress a smile at the coincidence of seeing Joe on this random afternoon and hide one hand in between your crossed thighs to warm it as you get back into your book.

However, you barely get the chance to.

About a minute in, you notice him from the corner of your eye, walking past again.  The other way this time, and he’s sort of squinting at something further up ahead of him, like the sun is making it really hard for him to see something.

Is this man lost?

You follow Joe’s line of sight, but nothing really stands out, and before you know it, he’s out of earshot and swallowed up by the other pedestrians.

Feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve said hi. You saw him walk past twice. It’s fine that you didn’t, you don’t have to say hi, but, it definitely feels a little weird.

You give the paragraph in front of you another go, but this time, you can’t even make it to the end of the first sentence before you recognise the outfit in your peripheral vision.

Joe walks past again, but real fucking slow this time.

You just move your eyes to check what his legs are doing, not moving otherwise, and then, two steps past your table, he stops and you hear him mumble something. You look up a little more to see how he pretends to check a watch that he’s not wearing before he turns around again to walk back the way he came, and finally, you understand what’s happening.

Joe has seen you.

And this is him trying to catch your attention.

You scoff a silent laugh into your book, let it double you over a little because, this is really fucking ridiculous, isn’t it?

A few steps down the pavement, Joe turns one last time, and then, without saying a word, walks over and comes to sit down next to you. Just, takes the other seat at your table without even looking at you.

You’re openly staring at him now, confused at what the fuck he’s doing. Joe leans forward, a little over to you, to fish a paperback that looks like it’s seen better days from a large coat pocket. Then a hand disappears into his other pocket, and he dumps everything from inside onto the table; his phone, an earphone case, his smoking things.

You wonder if Joe had seen you that first time he walked past.

Or if maybe he’d already walked past before you’d noticed him.

Wouldn’t surprise you.

You watch how Joe settles. Sits back in his seat with a loud grumbling exhale, opens his book, and finds the page where he’d left off. He’s not looked at you once.

You tut and shake your head, but that smile is there to stay.

Idiot.

You give that same stupid first line of that same stupid paragraph another read, but your head’s not with it. You’re waiting for Joe to say something. Your eyes are scanning words but you’re reading absolutely nothing.

Then, just like you predicted, you hear a very soft ahem coming from beside you.

You turn your head to look at him, and find him looking at you through narrowed eyes.

Could be from the sun. It’s very bright.

“It’s really unfair for you to be here.”

But no. It’s aimed at you.

“Um…” you start, already beyond offended. “What do you mean unfair?”

“Well,” Joe uses large gestures to place his book on the table with a little too much force. “My afternoon plans were to go and sit out here by myself and read a few pages, but now,” Joe motions around, makes a funny face and finishes, “You’re here.”

You laugh.

“My apologies.”

“Had to walk past six times before she even sees me. Very unfair.” Joe scolds playfully and makes you laugh again.

A waitress shows up and asks if she can get you anything, and for a short moment, the two of you look at each other. Then Joe says, “She’ll have another one, and I’ll take the same. Can we see a menu?” without breaking eye-contact with you, and, Jesus Christ.

Then, to be polite, he quickly looks at the waitress, says “Thanks.” with a show-stopping smile and you can see the effect it has on her.

This guy’s a charmer.

The waitress smiles, says, “Yes, of course!” and leaves, and just like that, stupid smirks are shared over a small table that’s perfectly placed out of the wind and in the direct sunlight. You both have books, and then warm drinks get brought out, and it’s silently decided that you’ll be here for a little while to share each other’s quiet company.

Joe ends up ordering a couple of bites he can share, things he knows you like, so even if you weren’t planning on eating, he knows that if he gives a plate a little push you’ll go for a little something. You feel a weird joy inside of your chest because you’re single right now and so this time around there’s no hidden guilt about spending a little time with Joe in public.

You don’t give a shit if someone sees you.

You were there first.

Joe joined you.

If word got back to Emily, you’d still have to do some explaining, but… you’re not doing anything illegal, you know?

“What are you anxious for?” Joe suddenly speaks up after you’ve been trying to wrestle your way down a page. “Are you meeting someone? Have I just ruined–”

“I’m not anxious.” You cut him off.

Joe’s eyes flick down to where you’re scratching your thumb nail over the ribbed hem of your jumper that you’ve pulled over your hands, fingers half hidden inside the sleeves, the frayed edge giving away how often you do that.

He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around your wrist and you only realise then what he means. You drop your shoulders and force yourself to relax.

You keep forgetting Joe knows things about you.

“I’m not meeting someone.” You then confirm, because there’s no one else to meet, but you’re surprised at how sweet the words come out of your mouth.

You’re giving yourself away.

Letting yourself be read too easily.

Oh God, reel it in already, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Wait.

Does Joe have someone else to meet?

Is he dating someone? Or, and this is actually the question that needs to be asked: does someone out there think they’re dating him? Has he been acting a certain way with someone where that’s the idea he’s left them with?

Presumably not; those fingers wrapped around your wrist far too easily for a hand that belong to someone taken.

Still, you aren’t sure.

You know what he’s like.

Plus, you hadn’t been single the last time this happened, and your hands had been places they shouldn’t have even come remotely close to, so you’re not sure how much hand-placement even really matters.

“Just me, today.” You add to clarify, going for a sip of your drink.

“Good.” Joe smiles, eyes back in his book, and you feel a little warmer inside.

Might be the sun. You’ve been sitting in it for a while.

“Got you all to myself then?” Joe checks, making sure.

Okay so it’s not the sun.

“No weird fake gym date you’ll try to convince me you need to go to?”

You bite your tongue, do your best to hide your smile.

“That wasn’t fake, I really was going to–”

“Yea, all right. Sure.” Joe’s still got his eyes in his book. Turns a page even though you very well know he’s not fucking read a single word since he sat down.

Your jaw drops in a gasp. “I was!” You lower your volume mid-outburst, because just when you hear how loud you are you remember you’re in public.

Joe glances up at you, and he’s just all cheek. Big brazen schoolboy smile and twinkling mischievous eyes, so fucking pleased with himself for working you up just enough for you to be embarrassed about.

And he keeps up the cheek.

Sits silently next to you, supposedly reading his book, but instead he just looks at you for ages, and then when you finally look back to ask him what the fuck he’s staring at, he goes, “What?” like you’re the one that has been staring.

Pushes a plate of bites a little over to you so you reach for some, only to then scoff when you do, muttering, “Rude.” under his breath.

Asks the waitress for the bill and adds, “She’s got it.” before turning to you and telling you he’s just going to go to the toilet real quick. You roll your eyes, sort of smiling as the waitress politely makes a joking comment before she goes after him to fetch the bill. Then, about three minutes later he steps out and goes, “Okay let’s go.” and it turns out he’s already paid for everything inside.

Goes, “No, this way,” with a nod of his head when you stand up to leave and want to head home, and for a moment you’re like, Joe, like he needs reminding that you’re actually no longer together as a couple, but he just goes, “Come on.” and holds a grabby hand out behind his back as he starts walking, waiting for you to come take hold of it, like you’re the one that’s being silly.

And... you are.

Because you then just… follow him.

Easily grab hold of his hand.

Easily let yourself be lead over to his flat.

Easily remember the route he takes, which busy places you avoid and which roads to cross when.

Easily fall into random conversations about, hey remember that one time that we had dinner at this restaurant and they tried to feed us raw chicken? they’ve got a new owner and it’s actually nice now, as you walk together and you almost forget that this dynamic isn’t normal.

It’s not normal to ignore every little thing that was wrong in your relationship. Every little thing that made you decide that you actually wanted out. Needed out.

But you suppose that, with the way Joe’s acting, it sort of is a little normal for you to feel the way you do.

It’s a little normal you no longer want to think about sides of beds, of the lack of communication, of the schedule issues, and the time management problems…

It’s easy to want to forget, and so… you do.

You decide to forget and so you do.

That is, until Joe opens his front door and says, “You’re going to love what I did with the place.” as you’re about to step inside. Before you even get the chance to laugh at his joke, because everything is exactly as you remembered it, you mutter, “Jesus fucking Christ!”. You swear you can see your own breath it’s so cold. “How the fuck is it colder in here than it is outside? You’ve got south facing windows!”

“Oh Jesus.” Joe remembers.

“You live like this!” You say with huge bulging eyes, like it’s the most outrageous thing ever, but Joe just smiles and hangs up his coat before he uses both hands to start undoing the buttons of yours.

“I was out.” He says, fighting your hands that try to keep your coat done up. “The heating’s off right now, so yes, it’s a little cold at the minute–”

“A little cold?”

“But!” he shuts you up. “I’ll turn the heating on now that I’m back and it’ll be warm in no time.”

You allow Joe to undo all the buttons.

Allow him to help you take the coat off completely.

Allow him to find the thermostat before you do.

Allow him to make a joke about how you live in a tropical climate and how you live like that in your tone of voice.

And then he asks if no one else ever complains about that. Because, surely, they must.

“Or did you find someone whose got the same biological inability to keep themselves warm?”

“No,” you huff a laugh as you pull your sleeves over your hands and cross your arms tightly over your frame .

“No? Jasper not giving you a hard time over it?”

You’ve never said his name was Jasper. His name’s not Jasper.

“No one is giving me a hard time about anything, thanks.” You bite back, and for a moment, Joe stops and looks at you.

Really looks.

Reads you.

You do your very best to look back and remain all casual, like you’re not afraid that Joe is able to read every single thought that pops up just as quickly as it vanishes in your brain.

You’re in Joe’s flat and, truly, you have no real reason to be there right now.

“Wow.” Joe then softly says, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “How long did that last?”

He steps away from the thermostat, walks over to the fridge, and you can see how he’s only set it to 19 degrees. That barely counts as warm.

“Um. Mind your business.” You say, already walking over to change it. Set it to 23 degrees, or whatever.

Joe doesn’t need to know how you embellished how serious you’d been with this other man. This other someone. He’d only been around for a couple of weeks. A few months at best. Hadn’t even come close to meet any of your family – not even any of your friends, really. Emily had only seen him because she’d dropped by unexpectedly on a random afternoon.

“What did he do that you didn’t like?” Joe peeps his head around the fridge door, quickly adds, “Don’t set it higher than 20.”

“I won’t.” you lie, pushing the little plus button until it says 22 and try your best to ignore Joe’s question.

If there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s talk to your ex-boyfriend about this other guy that doesn’t even really deserve that label.

But Joe doesn’t let it go so easily.

“What was the thing that made you convince yourself that this guy wasn’t worth it?”

Oh, ouch.

What the fuck.

From the thermostat you give him a hard stare, one that he truly deserves because look at that stupid smug face, and then you dryly say, “I’m gonna set it to 30.” before furiously pressing that same plus button as quickly as you can.

Joe barks a loud laugh and you manage to get the thermostat up to 25.5 before a whole body grabs hold of yours.

A scuffle breaks out in the middle of Joe’s living room and you kind of love how tightly Joe’s wrapped himself around you. Kind of love how you bend back and forth, and how Joe just bends with you. How you shriek for him to let you go, and how he swears at you under his breath. How instead of letting you go he just holds on tighter. How he breathes in your ear as he squeezes the giggles from your frame. How you get pushed onto the sofa, and then, you kind of love how his face being so close to yours suddenly changes the air somehow.

Joe’s lying right on top of you.

Your noses are nearly touching.

Giggles die out, and with twin smiles, Joe lets his eyes scan your face for a moment.

You swallow thickly and try to ignore how quick your heartbeat’s picking up.

“This warming you up?”

You bite your lip and give your head a little shake as an answer.

“No? You need a little more?”

And this is where you should tell Joe to get off of you.

Where you should walk back over to Joe’s front door and put your coat back on.

Be the adult in the room and tell him it was nice chatting to him but, maybe it’s best if you go home, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll end up naked in his bed with body parts inside of other body parts which have no business being even remotely close to each other with clothes on, let alone without any.

Yet instead, you nod.

You smile and you nod, and it’s all Joe needs to lower his face and to make his lips meet yours.

Joe kisses you and it’s stupidly sensual. He gets your top lip between both of his and pulls away just slightly before he gets your bottom one. You can feel his teeth, and then his tongue, and you’re hesitant for just a moment, but then Joe goes to pull away fully because he wants to say something, but he can’t, because you get your hands on either side of his face and just pull him back in for more.

More.

You need more.

You’ve not been giggling at all Joe’s bad flirting for you to not get more.

Before you know it, you’re not just kissing, but you’re making out, and it’s all tongue and all teeth and hands all over, and it feels like the kiss has broken the seal because suddenly, you want all of it. Everything. His hands everywhere. Your hands everywhere. His mouth all over your body and your mouth tasting all of his.

You want his body parts inside of yours.

Need it.

Right this very second.

“Bed?” Joe gasps with his nose pressed to your jaw, and all you manage to do is give a barely-there nod.

Two arms pull you to sit up. Pull you to stand up. And Joe kisses you again like he just can’t help himself before he goes, “Wait.” and then goes to turn the thermostat down and you can’t help but smack his ass as you walk past and rush into his bedroom.

You’re not doing anything illegal.

You’re single, and it seems like Joe is too, so you’re fine.

It’s even colder in Joe’s bedroom if anyone can believe that, and you audibly shiver as you toe off your shoes which makes Joe laugh as he joins you there, says, “Quick!” and he grabs a corner of his duvet and holds it up for you to climb into his bed.

And you do.

Just get in without second thought.

Hide how you’re a little startled by how much you fucking love the scent of Joe’s bed, because what the fuck, that’s a weird reaction to have to the smell of a bed. But you love Joe’s bed, and love his luxurous down comforter, and love the loud crinkles as it moves, and love the way all of it smells.

What follows is you undressing underneath the covers, throwing pieces of your outfit at Joe who is getting out of his own clothes by the foot of the bed as he catches and dodges whatever you throw at him. It’s a weird dance of fabric and laughter until he jumps and launches himself right onto you. Joe kisses you some more, mouths remembering each other, before he works his way into bed with you.

The skin-to-skin contact heats you up quick enough to make you blush.

And remember how Joe said it was unfair that he ran into you that afternoon?

Well it just so turns out that it’s actually unfair that Joe remembers everything about your body.

That he knows you.

Knows what you like.

He gets his hand around the back of your neck, fingers pushed into those very specific spots as he presses his forehead to yours and does everything else just exactly right.

Exactly how you fucking like it.

It’s unfair that Joe knows exactly what to do, knows that if he touches you right for just long enough, you’ll get into the headspace where you’ll actually push to get your mouth on him. He knows how to get you to be so into it, you’ll just voluntarily disappear underneath his covers. Know how you won’t want to come back up until you’re forcefully pulled back into the cold air where you’ll be kissed until you lose your breath.

God, Joe’s so fucking good at kissing, it makes you want to live in his bed forever. You know you can’t – Joe’s phone keeps buzzing in his jeans that are somewhere on his bedroom floor, but, Jesus, you really fucking want to.

For whatever reason, the buzzing of his phone only adds to the excitement.

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

At least, for about fifteen minutes it does.

Then, the buzzing finally seems to stop. Finishes. And it’s not much later that you do too.

You’re wet with sweat and spit from kisses, skin left tingling and mind blissed out. When you turn your head to look at Joe, he’s lying on his back, catching his breath with his eyes closed and you can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you.

“Go pee,” Joe says, motioning towards the bathroom with his eyes still closed, and you grin because, Joe knows you.

It’s still really cold in his bedroom, but he’s right, you do have to pee, so you quickly do as you’re told and it’s unfair how you can’t help your stupid grin from spreading when Joe calls, “And hurry up!” after you.

It’s unfair how fast reality finds you. How darting into his bathroom on your own sobers you enough to think, what the fuck am I doing?

It’s unfair how you have to look into the bathroom mirror and tell yourself, you’re not doing anything illegal.

It’s unfair how you don’t really believe it.

It’s unfair that this isn’t only unfair to you, but also to Joe, and probably to whoever else was trying to reach him whilst he had you in his bed.

Unfair that you can’t shake the feeling of how what you’ve just done actually feels incredibly illegal, because a phone only buzzes that much if someone is wanted elsewhere.

When you get back to Joe’s bedroom you see that he’s made no attempt to get his phone, and he’s quick to welcome you back into his coccoon of warmth.

“I probably should leave,” you say, but climb back into bed anyway.

It makes sense that Joe is wanted elsewhere. Makes sense that he probably isn’t actually single at the minute. That there’s someone.

Joe isn’t yours, you have to remind yourself. And if you are honest, you don’t even really know if you want him to be.

“Yea probably…” Joe trailed off, reaching arms over to pull you into his side. “But I’m not done with you yet. C’mere.”

But you do know you feel far too comfortable to resist his cuddling.

“Joe, you’ve got someone waiti–”

“Shh.”

He pulls until you are laying right on top of him, both his arms holding you exactly where he wants you. You want to make a joke, a snide comment, remind him of how cuddling used to be too much of a task. But then he says,

“She can wait.”

She.

Definitely not single, then.

Somehow, that feels good and bad at once. Good because that means this was just a quick thing that would remain just that, like it had before. Bad because that still stings.

Joe is seeing someone.

Someone else.

Joe is out there holding hands with someone else, laughing at someone else’s jokes, looking into someone else’s eyes and kissing someone else’s lips.

Joe is kissing someone else on the mouth.

Fuck.

It has been so long, and yet that still stings, even though you don’t want to let it sting you. You have to find a way to stop letting it sting you. Getting with someone else, with Jasper whose name wasn’t fucking Jasper, clearly hadn’t helped enough.

It feels silly how you’re simultaneously judging yourself so hard whilst also trying to justify feeling a certain type of way because, listen, you’re only human after all, aren’t you? It’s obvious that some things are going to affect you. Makes sense that you don’t love the idea of Joe holding someone else to his chest the way he’s holding you to his chest right now.

Those feelings are allowed.

But the flipside of that is that, if you don’t want to feel bad about something, if you don’t want to actively judge yourself, then maybe you shouldn’t have gone home with this guy so easily, you know?

He didn’t even have to try to get you to go with him. 

You just... went.

So this is kind of your own fault, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Joe suddenly whispers. “I can feel you think. Stop milling.”

You quickly pull your fingers from the edge of the duvet cover where you thumbnail was scratchig along the fabric.

Unfair that Joe knows you.

But sort of perfect that he does...

Shit.

“Feel this?” Joe doesn’t move his arms, but slowly curls his fingers where his hands cover your sides and makes his nails trail along your bare skin.

“Mhm.”

“Focus on that. You’re better in your body.”

You scoff a little, huff a breath through your nose that Joe feels just below his collarbone, and softly ask, “Rather than my brain, you mean?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

In a criminal act, Joe kisses you on the forehead and makes you melt. Stupid how a forehead kiss makes your eyes roll back more than all the other things he’d done to you just now.

It’s real hard work to pull yourself back down to earth. To not let yourself marinate in this fucked up soup that the two of you have willingly gotten yourself into.

You clear your throat a little and hoarsely say, “I can’t stay over.”

“Hmm. I think you’ll find that you have no other choice.”

“Joe.”

“Just stay for a little bit.” Joe holds you a little tighter, “Just a little bit longer.” and slurs his words a little slower. Then he moves a hand and places it right where he knows it’ll render you fucking useless.

Unfair.

“Joe.”

“Shh. Later. Sleep now.”

And, fine. You’ll marinate. Who are you trying to fool?

It was all something for later.

You’re drifting off already, comfortable and warm, Joe’s familiar touch way too gentle and nice not to let sleep take over.

With Joe’s fingers softly tickling the skin of your side, his other rubbing circles into the dip on the back of your neck, and his slow and steady breath in your hair, you decide to forget everything else for now.

The heating was off, but you were warm.

Everything else was something for later.

---

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add yourself

[gay-dorito-dust]

If you're still taking reqs for TADC, could you possibly write something for on Jax with another member of the circus who is seemingly the only one that feeds into his actions and reacts- leading the two to go back and forth all the time. While everyone (even themselves) believe the pair hate each other, deep down there's some shared feelings!

(Sorry if this is worded weirdly..)

You and Jax were at each other’s throats once again much to the dismay of Pomni and Ragatha, who watched on from afar.

‘Jax!’ You exclaimed, gaining the purple bunny’s attention as he looked at you with his usual shit eating grin with his hands shoved into his overalls.

‘Why isn’t it y/n! Here to accuse me of doing something outrageous again because your undying hatred for me consumes your mind body and soul?’ Jax replied sarcastically, which only proven to make you even more pissed off as you grabbed him by the straps of his overalls, brining him in close.

‘Oh you think you’re hilarious don’t you bunny boy?’ You said through gritted teeth, trying not to focus on the fact that you were mere inches away from each other, mere inches away from touching heads but you were quick to focus back on why you were even confronting him to begin with. ‘I know damn well you put those rats in my room, do you not have anything better to do then annoy me for your entertainment.’ You added.

‘Have they always hated each other?’ Pomni asked Ragatha who was having a hard time recalling herself. You and Jax had always been like this for as far as she remembered, the reason why you both were like this was a mystery to all even Caine, but everyone had soon accepted that you and Jax just didn’t like each other in general. Jax liked to fuck with everyone and you happened to react the most to them, causing him to focus all of his pranks onto you.

‘They entered here at the same time and even then they didn’t like each other at all.’ Ragatha started. ‘Y/n hated how Jax massed with everyone and Jax found y/n’s need to confront him every time he did so both annoying but amusing at the same time. Soon enough all they could focus on was each other, getting on one another’s nerves, almost as though the rest of us don’t exist in their little feud as all they could see was each other.’ Ragatha finished and Pomni looked back at you and Jax, seeing that you were still very much at each other’s throats.

The way you both seemed to unintentionally lean towards each other despite hating the other’s very being, it came across as intimate but Pomni believed that she was looking too deep into things.

‘So do they hate each other, like Properly hate each other? If so why are they always within the others space?’ She asked, a million more questions coming to her head.

All Ragatha could do was shrug her shoulders. ‘I’ve had similar questions before but I’ve just chalked it up to y/n being red with rage that they don’t see how they feed into Jax’s ego, and Jax is far too aware of how he is affecting y/n to the point where he can’t stop himself from messing with them.’ The pair then went back to watching you and Jax as he griped his hands over your own on his overalls, forcing you to stay in close proximity of him.

‘You’re just so reactive to everything I do, even the smallest things tick you off, are you sure you’re not like secretly in love with me or something?’ He teased as he watched your eyes widened before narrowing into a glare again.

‘As if I’d like a chaos causing mischief maker like you in the first place? It’s you who might have feelings for me, especially given how often you keep pranking me and invading my personal space as though it’s nonexistent.’ You spat back as you watched Jax’s smile falter for a split seconds before it came back full force as he scoffs, pulling your hands off of him with ease.

‘Like you said as if I’d ever like a over emotional person like you, who can’t seem to take a joke and overreact to everything I do because everything I do is morally wrong and unjust in their eyes.’ Jax spat back, not wanting your words to get to him as he naturally deflected all of his flaws to focus on yours in retaliation.

‘Can’t take a joke?’ You asked rhetorically, sure your feelings were slightly hurt but you were able to not let it show in fear that Jax would use it to advantage. ‘Can’t take a- what you call a joke is anything but a joke! You just want to make everyone as miserable and as hopeless as you.’ You finished, practically seething as you saw how unaffected Jax was by your words.

‘Nope, wrong as usual. I just want you to be as miserable and hopeless as me sweetheart.’ Jax said almost too casually as he shrugged his shoulders before leaving you stood there in utter bafflement. ‘See you later for the adventure, hope you’ll keep your emotions in check this time.’ He adds with a lazy wave as he disappears from sight.

You knew your relationship with Jax was…complicated to say the least, always hating each other, and getting in the others face for no reason other then to voice your hate for one another in voices barely above a whisper. You didn’t remember when you hated him but soon you felt it shift somewhat the longer you were stuck here with him. You noticed your change of emotions towards his and grew annoyed, which only made your supposed hate for Jax grow to hide the fact that you had grown feelings for the lavender rabbit.

Yet you knew he didn’t feel the same, he hated you beyond words can describe and so instead of forcing an fantasy to become reality, you had forced yourself to accept the reality that you and Jax were meant to be enemies no matter what.

However you weren’t the only one with conflicted thoughts and feelings about this because Jax was in a similar situation. He was supposed to hate you, much like he did the moment you locked eyes but he feared something else blossomed from that first glance, something he didn’t want to admit anytime soon; and so he decided to torment you in order to find things to hate about you to stop thinking about anything else.

Jax wasn’t stupid he knew he liked you but for all he was aware you hated him beyond belief, beyond words even and so he focused on things that he had tricked himself into hating about you and letting himself continue to be your enemy as long as he got your attention, you soul focus on him and only him like he wanted.

You and him were made to be enemies but born to be more but both of you didn’t know how to admit it, not when you thought the other one despaired the other with how hostile you acted towards one another, and yet you craved the others attention in the same breath. You craved and despised each other simultaneously that you had found yourself in a never ending battle of whether you and Jax would ever break from this hatred and actually grow to like each other, but you and Jax both knew that was too much to ask, not knowing that you both indeed did like each other but were just that good at hiding it with mutual hate.

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You continue sending dexter treats as he tries (and fails) to find out your identity.

Part 3

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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Dexter never could’ve imagined things in his life getting any worse than they already had, but life was cruel so of course it did. Rita had ended things with him after finding out about the overnight trip he took with Lila, just as he thought maybe there was a better future for him with Lila she went absolutely psycho and nearly got him killed by the same man who killed his mother, Lundy and his team were far too close to catching him than he was comfortable with, and Dexter still had no clue who this secret admirer who knew too much was that had continued to send him baked goods and notes. Despite all that the admirer that knew too much was likely the only thing that hadn’t been stressing him out as of late, surprisingly that is. Unlike everyone else they weren’t prying into his life or trying to control him, as far as he knew at least, rather it seemed they were simply interested in learning more and forming a friendship of sorts. One of mutual understanding as in one of their notes he had come to learn they also had unique after-hour hobbies, and from what they were letting on they had a code similar to his own. All of this only made Dexter even more curious about who this admirer was, unconsciously he craved to be understood by someone after what happened with his brother. It was all too perfect, especially if this admirer followed similar rules as he did maybe he would have a true friend that could understand him entirely. Dexter hadn’t realized it yet but he grew obsessed with the idea and spent each day eagerly waiting for another note and baked good, he had to admit that whoever this admirer was they were a damn good baker. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention, especially with the thrill of it being from someone like-minded. Even though it made his heart race when he received a note revealing they knew he was the Bay Harbor Butcher, Dexter nearly collapsed when he read it but it gave him an odd thrill that someone had so easily found him out and despite that continued to admire him from afar. Not to mention they flirted with him as well, Dexter would give anything to find out who this was but for now, he had hit a wall and could only wait for them to reveal themselves.

Admittedly, Dexter was a bit hesitant about this new love interest but considering how easy things were with them compared to the complex mess he had to deal with when it came to Lila and Rita. It wasn’t hard for him to warm up to the idea. Things with Rita were awkward and she kept pushing him away despite his explanations, and Lila had proven to be outright psychotic her actions only growing more and more outrageous. He needed someone mentally stable and less emotionally demanding, but also someone who understands him like this admirer. Something neither Lila nor Rita could do for him. Speaking of the devil, as Dexter starts to leave the department he frowns upon hearing Lila’s voice. He turns to see her surrounded by his coworkers laughing happily, if she couldn’t get through to him apparently she would go through to his friends.

“Ahah! Looks who’s come out of his cave?”

“Lila, what are you doing here?”

“She came to see me, bro.” Angel butted in with a proud grin on his face.

“Angel mentioned that he needed a decorator and well, a slot just opened up so I gave him a call.”

“I’ve always wanted a decorator,” Angel said with a grin his eyes glued onto Lila, Dexter pulled him off to the side away from the group, trying to warn him.

“Angel come here… she’s not really a decorator.”

“It’s not really my apartment that I want decorated.” Before Dexter could continue Lila came up behind them wrapping her arms over their shoulders.

“So hey, the boys here have persuaded me to go for a drink.”

“Or ten,” Angel playfully added and Dexter just stared back at him.

“Oh god, should I be worried?”

“Yes, you should,” Dexter said flatly as his eyes met Lilas but she only grinned and rubbed his nose with hers.

“Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing.” She said as she entered the elevator but at the same time, an officer from another department stepped out, her brows furrowing slightly when she saw Dexter.

“Dexter Morgan? This is for you, and you better not break her heart got it?” The officer said narrowing her eyes as she handed him a cute mini drawstring bag of cookies with a note inside the bag rather than in one of the cookies, which was new.

No matter how complex the dessert they’d always managed to place it inside the goodie so maybe this note was something different. Dexter tucked the cookies into his pocket as he entered the elevator, which was when he realized Lila saw all of that. Dexter didn’t like the fact she had, because with the unstable behavior she was already showing who knows how she would react to more competition. Dexter glanced over at her and he could see the anger in her eyes and knew that this wasn’t going to end well.

★ ✮ ★

I was in the lobby just chatting with Jackie before she left work for the day, our idle small talk was just a cover so that I could maybe catch a glimpse of Dexter. To my surprise, he seemed less on guard about my notes, and I had a few guesses as to why. Primarily I assumed he finally realized I wasn’t a threat and had grown impartial to my notes, which meant it wasn’t fun for me anymore. It’s a tiny bit of a shame but I guess it is time to bring our game to an end, certainly glad I did something different with my note today. I had given him a note with a time, date, and place. We’d both had enough of the games and it was about time that we finally met.

Speaking of Dexter I watch as he and his team from homicide exit the elevator with a certain ‘skanky vampire’, according to Debra at least. The whole group was magnetized towards her, except Dexter who kept a very noticeable distance between them, pretty privilege is real but I guess there’s more to that pretty face from how he’s acting. Again our eyes met briefly for a moment and I just politely smiled and returned to my conversation, no need to raise any suspicion from him just yet. I watch out the corner of my eye as they leave the building, and of course, Jackie has to butt in.

“So how long are you going to do this secret admirer act, tits up and ask him out already!”

“Well you’re in luck I just did, I gave him some cookies and a note asking him to meet me somewhere.”

“Hooray! Oh my god please call me afterward and tell me all about it, don’t you dare leave out a single detail!” She said with an eager grin clapping her hands.

“I promise will, anyways I should probably get back to work. Drive home safely okay?”

She nodded and waved me off and we parted ways, I headed back into our office as I had been called in to do overtime. The system had been semi-frequently going haywire and they needed all computers working for whatever case they had begun to crack, though from the FBI agents lingering in the building much later than usual it wasn’t hard to guess which department had a breakthrough. I headed down to where the servers were to check on them, it was a short walk and I said a few goodbyes as others turned in for the night. Once I got to the room everything seemed to be in place but I double-checked anyway, and unfortunately for me, it seemed like a critter or two had gotten inside and had been nibbling away at the wires. I wrapped some electrical tape over the exposed parts of the wires as a temporary fix until I could call for pest control, but this meant I would have to replace some of the wires and disconnect some departments from the system. It wasn’t urgent though, the wires were still working as needed and as long as they didn’t chew through any wires things should be fine.

After handling the mess downstairs I started on a few miscellaneous tasks around the building, there wasn’t much for me to do which is why I hated being called in for overtime just in case something happened. I sighed as I spun around in my desk chair bored out of my mind, I had done literally everything I could at this hour. I even filed the paperwork for all the requests I’ve completed, even though doing so had made me drowsier than I already was. I decided to get some coffee to wake myself up, I stood and left the office and decided to head up to homicide. The FBI had been staying late so it was likely that they would have some fresh coffee I could ‘borrow’. I rode the elevator up to the next floor and casually walked into the department which was currently a ghost town minus the few agents and deputy chief conversing in the debriefing room, I just walked past them into the kitchen where thankfully there was a little bit of coffee left in the pot. I made myself a cup and leaned against the counter drinking it quietly, I hate when the station was like this. The silence always made me uncomfortable as it left me alone with my thoughts for too long, I could overthink and criticize all my actions up until this very moment with no distractions. I hated dwelling on them and always having someone I could chat with or have a conversation to eavesdrop on so that I could escape all the thoughts floating around in my head.

A welcome distraction came from Dexter Morgan and what appeared to be his FBI escorts, I watched as they brought him into the debriefing room. Thankfully the curtains were open and I could peek inside, they had Dexter sit down and were talking to him. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but it was likely about whatever was on the table in front of him, I decided to get out of there while they were still talking. I’d hate to get in trouble for snooping where I shouldn’t be, besides I think it’s almost time for me to go home anyway. As I walked out of the kitchen and passed the debriefing room I took one last glance inside, the thing they were talking about was some storage box with slides of blood inside.

“So those are your trophies….”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

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[throwawayhero]

could you give more hcs or a drabble about bakugou with a crush on reader!! pls i feel like ur fics are the closest ive seen to canon... i need more

No problem, and thanks! I try to make them seem canon, but sometimes it's difficult T-T. Just realising now that a few of these sound stalker-y and I'm sorta regretting writing this but oh well. I hope this is satisfactory!! c/w; social media au, buzzfeed, eminem (idek), karaoke, not proof read

!Katsuki who unintentionally catches himself playing with his hair while talking to you. Not in an obvious way (that's what he thinks at least), but more so absentmindedly fiddling with his side burns and such. It's kinda funny when he accidentally curls them and leaves them like that for a while. He also has a habit of playing with his baby hairs on the back of his neck.

!Katsuki who "accidentally" managed to copy your handwriting style down stroke for stroke? He doesn't really know how it happened, to be honest. He just noticed it one day during a group project after Jirou pointed it out to the two of you. You found it funny, but he found it outrageous and claimed that you had been the one to copy his handwriting.

!Katsuki who allowed you to tag along on one of Kirishima's and his study sessions. He beat the shit out of Eijirou and was gentle with you, more or less. He wouldn't hit you of course, but he certainly wasn't scared to yell. At least the first time. The look you gave him made him writhe with guilt, so he shut the fuck up out of embarrassment.

!Katsuki who heard you talking about a band you loved and decided it was his god given right to go through their whole discography and criticise it in his own time. But turns out, you have good taste, so he keeps to himself about it. "Accidentally" bought a spare ticket to their next concert and offered the spot to you. No big deal, right?

!Katsuki who did extensive searching for your socials, scrolling through his friends friends following, mutuals, and genuinely just word of mouth. When he did find your accounts, he stalked the SHIT out of them. When you requested to follow him, he freaked out and accepted straight away. He didn't follow you back until a week later, "just to be safe".

!Katsuki who unironically took one of those "Do I have a crush on my friend?" quizzes when he started to feel things towards you. 100% went down a rabbit hole on buzzfeed. He wanted to call his "crush" ANYTHING other than what it was. Mentioned it to Kirishima once and was left even ore confused than what he had originally been.

Unrelated but he just looks like he would listen to Eminem. Probably gets a good chuckle out of the whole "You gonna cancel me, yeah? Gen Z me brah?!" thing. Don't ask me to explain why I think this, it just makes sense.

!Katsuki who more often than not is watching you out of the corner of his eye. Not in an overly-creepy way, he's just "aware of his surroundings". He says that to anyone that mentions it, which is literally just his paranoia.

!Katsuki who secretly loved the fact that you hung out with him and his friends almost daily. Because then he wouldn't have to initiate hangouts and look as desperate as he really was. It gave him a plausible excuse to absorb every single opinion you uttered. It gave him an excuse to get even closer to you.

!Katsuki who freaked the FUCK out when everyone (besides the two of you) got sick and couldn't do the bi-weekly hangout everyone had played a part in organising. The group had settled on doing karaoke, so you can imagine how it went down with just the two of you there. Although, the two of you did make an amazing duet. (No one was really sick, Mina just mentioned Katsuki's behaviour and put 2 and 2 together. She also wanted to see if he would take initiative for once.)

!Katsuki who went out of his way to make changes to his hero costume that he knew you would like. Small details here and there, for both style and practicality. While it was cold he would use the neck warmer to hide the smirk that creeped onto his face when he saw you checking out his new look. He also started to make himself look nicer in general, indulging in a bit of jewellery (stud earrings, a ring or two, and a silver necklace), nicer shoes, wearing the uniform properly and such.

!Katsuki who has your number pinned in his contacts, as well as giving you your own message & ring tone sound. He has everyone but you, Kirishima, and his parents on silenced. He also has your contact saved as a nickname he assigned you without you knowing with a heart emoji. It's simple, but endearing.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Vampire Freak of California: The Lost Boys x reader

I kept this GN and I don't know how I feel about it persay. It's one of the longest things I've written probably ever, and I like the idea. I just don't know about the execution of it on my end. I also dedicate this to @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n who is my favorite vampire freak. I might make this into a series thing, perchance, if I ever feel like getting around to making another chapter for it.

Content includes: Swearing, readers relationship to the boys could be read as platonic or romantic, autism coded reader

Living in Santa Carla is pretty uneventful. Your mother died when you were young and your father wanted nothing to do with you, so you’ve been living with your grandpa since you were a child. Your aunt and cousins just moved in with you and your grandpa, trying to get settled in after your aunt’s divorce. So you’ve been showing them around, taking them places, hanging out. It’s a nice break from doing a bunch of outdoor work this summer, especially now that you’re home from college.

 But if you’re being honest, you don’t know too many people here. Sure you have your friends and stuff, but outside of them and your family you’re not too familiar with everyone else in town. But it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more people in the state of California than people in some countries, at least you think.

But something that might be holding you back from getting more friendships, or even a relationship is your interests. When you started to tease your hair and wear all black your grandpa didn’t fully understand it, but seeing other people like that out in town he recognized it as some kind of trend with young people. But even before that, since you were young, you’ve had an obsession with vampires. It started when you watched the 1931 Dracula movie with a friend, and from then on you were hooked. Now your room is basically dedicated to vampires. Countless VHS tapes, books, posters, cassettes, records, collectables, comic books, anything vampire related you liked that you could get your hands on, it was in your room.

Now you know vampires are fake. That’s what makes it fun. Exploring such dark topics in a safe way through fiction. Not to mention how a lot of vampires can be pretty hot. But you know they’re not real, and so does everyone else, even if your grandpa avoids the subject all together most of the time, if you ever bring up how they’re fictional.

Of course not everyone understood. Your aunt Lucy was polite enough about it, your cousin Michael teases you about it a little, and Sam always makes comments. But who cares? It makes you happy. Very happy, in fact you could talk about vampires for hours on end. But that’s usually reserved for your friends, who are pretty similar to you. But as the summer went on, Michael got some friends of his own, so did Sam. 

It’s a warm night in June. You’re sitting downstairs in the kitchen talking on the phone with your friend when you hear the front door open, then Michael starts to speak. You look out the kitchen doorway and find him talking to a guy with platinum blonde hair. You shrug it off as Michael talking with a friend of his. You can hear other people talking, but it’s probably just more of his friends. 

“But I’ve got this new kind of question about vampires and stuff.” You say, opening the fridge and taking out a soda bottle, popping off the cap and taking a sip of it. “So vampires can’t go out in the sun. But what if they lived in one of those places where the sun doesn’t rise for months at a time? Like one of those arctic places in the world? Theoretically they could go outside all the time during periods like that.” You hold the phone receiver to your ear while walking back to the spot you were sitting at before.

Michael and his friend glance your way before going back to speaking with each other. You shrug it off. People stare at you all the time, it’s no big deal. You’re not even wearing one of your ‘outrageous’ outfits today. ‘I think vampires do need to sleep, like how all living creatures need to sleep. But it could be different for them depending on how long the sun is out.’ Your friend says over the phone. You nod your head and sip your soda again. 

“Uh huh. That makes sense. But without the barrier of the sun, I feel like a vampire could safely pull an all nighter or something. Some kind of insomniac vampire.” You joke, both you and your friend chuckling. 

‘I’ve gotta go. My parents are taking us to visit our grandparents tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.’ Your friend says. 

“Alright, peace out girl scout.” You say before hanging up the phone and sipping on your soda again. You leave the kitchen and pass by Michael who is still talking with his friend on the porch. Then you notice the other three guys hanging around, one of them looks at you. He’s the only one who isn’t a blonde, and he’s also not wearing a shirt. Something about him makes you pause for a moment. He doesn’t look too different from the other people you see around town, especially on the boardwalk.But the way he’s looking at you. It’s making something shift inside your body. “Is all you do talk about vampires?” Sam teases from his spot on the couch. His voice draws you out of that slight hypnotic state. You flip him off and walk up the stairs, making your way into your room. 

“People can be super into sports, or cars, or music, but apparently an interest in vampires is too far for some people.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Also I know you took one of my cassettes.” You look down at Sam from your spot on the stairs. “You better give it back before I put all your comics in the garbage disposal.” You joke, earning Sam flipping you off. You laugh and go up into your room, shutting the door behind you. 

That night as you slept you had the strangest dream. Being on some kind of beach next to a bonfire. Michael’s friend was there, staring at you like how he was before. You wanted to ask him questions but you couldn’t speak, something was stopping your voice. That’s all you could remember of the dream after you woke up. But some strange part of it that you couldn’t fully describe lingered in the back of your mind.

The next night you’re outside, listening to some music on your walkman and petting one of the barn cats you have. He’s a tuxedo cat you’ve had for a couple years now. You named him Mr. Murphy, after Peter Murphy from Bauhaus. He’s a really nice kitty. Sometimes when you don’t have anyone to talk to, you just talk to him. If he understood English he’d probably be the first cat to have encyclopedic knowledge on vampires. As you’re scratching behind his ears someone taps your shoulders from behind. You jump a little and turn around to see it’s Michael. You pause your music and take off your headphones. “Jesus Michael you scared me.” 

“Yeah well I didn’t mean to…Sorry. I’ve just got some friends coming over and I feel like it might be best that you stay inside.” You can’t tell what kind of a tone he’s using right now, but something tells you it’s not very good. 

“Michael I’m two years older than you, I can handle being around some teenage boys.” 

“They aren’t exactly teenage boys.” 

“Really? You’re hanging out with a bunch of grown men?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He says, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. He looks away from you, down at Mr. Murphy before looking back up at you, although you can’t quite meet his gaze, or anyone’s for that matter. “Just be careful with them. They can get kind of rowdy and stuff.” 

“What do you mean by being careful?” 

“You know what I mean by that.” 

“No I don’t. I’m being serious Michael, I don't know what you mean. If these are the same friends you had over last night I doubt that anything bad is going to happen. They seemed more interested in catching a cold from not wearing a shirt outside than bothering me.” Before he can reply, some headlights pull up behind you. Turning around you see his friends from before coming up on motorbikes. You look back at Michael for a moment, huffing a breath from your nose. “You owe me.” You mumble to him before heading back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind you. 

He’s got you all worked up now. Everyone is always treating you like you’re stupid. Well you’re not stupid. You’re different, sure. But you’re not stupid. You head into the kitchen and look around, trying to find something to eat, but only one thing comes to mind. What you call your ‘special food’. Something that no matter what, is always reliable and ‘safe’ for you to eat. So you get it ready and move to grab a dish for it when you see someone enter the kitchen. But it’s not Sam, like you’d expect. It’s one of Michael’s friends. Another blonde one. He’s wearing a dirty black blazer, and his hair is teased up into a big style, probably containing a whole can of hairspray in it. 

You look at each other for a while, just staring. You have no idea what to say, and maybe he doesn’t either. So you go back to what you were doing, getting a dish for your food. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” He asks with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you. Your back is still to him while you start to eat your food. You can feel him watching you. But you don’t have the energy to force eye contact right now. 

“I thought you were here for Michael.” You say, grabbing a glass and filling it up with some tap water. 

“Yeah well he’s been pretty vague about you when I ask questions. So I thought I should try speaking to you myself.” He says, walking closer to you as you drink your water.

“Why are you asking questions about me?” You ask, looking over at him for a moment, finishing off your food and setting your dishes in the sink. 

“Am I not allowed to be curious about someone?” He asks, in what you think is a teasing tone. But you don’t want to laugh and find out he was being serious. 

“No I didn’t mean that. I was just wondering why you’re interested in me is all.” You shrug your shoulders and trace shapes with your finger on the counter top. 

“I heard you talking about vampires last night. I’m pretty into vampires myself.” He says, watching your finger as it moves across the counter top. “I’m Paul. You’re Y/N right?” He asks. You nod your head. 

“Yeah that’s my name.” You say, looking over at the kitchen doorway, hearing Michael talking with his other friends again. “And I’m pretty into vampires. I mean. Don’t even get me started, I'll talk for hours on end about them.” 

“How into them are you?” He asks, smiling wider while he raises an eyebrow at you. You start to smile on your own too, even if he doesn’t want to listen to you rant about vampires, he’s about to.

“Well it all started when I first watched the 1931 dracula movie with Bella Lugosi when I was around 13. Which led me down this sort of rabbit hole of vampire media and all this stuff. So I’ve been collecting VHS tapes, books, posters, records, cassettes, comic books, anything vampire related I liked and could get my hands on. So it’s been almost a decade since then and I’m still obsessed with vampires. I mean I wrote this paper on the history of mythology of vampires for an English class back in my junior year of high school. 

“I have all these little theories and questions I’ve loved to ask horror movie directors some time with how they interpret these vampire media things. But I think my favorite vampire movie I’ve ever seen is probably ‘Fright Night’ by Tom Holland, the same guy who made the Child's play movie. It’s a really good vampire movie with some interesting interpretations on vampire mythology. We’ve come a long way from the original poem about a vampire. 

“There’s a lot of different interpretations of vampire mythology. Some media say that they’re affected by crosses, garlic, holy water, etc. But some say that garlic and crosses don’t do anything. But it’s pretty consistent that you can kill a vampire with a stake to the heart, decapitation, or with sunlight. I think it’s interesting that with all this variation on vampire mythology that almost every interpretation of vampires have them being unable to go out in the sunlight. Oh! But a couple of years ago for my graduation gift and 18th birthday present my grandpa helped me build my own coffin. I keep it in my room and I really love it.

“It’s stained on the outside with this dark brown wood stain and on the inside is some memory foam and red velvet. Like in this song by this band called Bauhaus, they’re a really awesome band. But they made a song called ‘Bella Lugosi’s dead’ which is a really good song, I really like it. But it has a lot of vampire themes to it. I feel like a lot of bands I like have vampire themes to them.” You start to pick at your nails while speaking to Paul. You’re so caught up in talking about vampires that you don’t notice another one of Michael’s friends is standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“You have a coffin in your room?” He speaks up. You look over at him. He’s not the brunette from last night. But he’s not the Billy Idol look alike either. He’s dressed just as outrageously as the rest of them, with a jacket that’s more patches than actual jacket at this point. But you just nod your head and look back down at your nails while you pick at them. 

“Yeah. People think it’s weird but who cares? I mean, I’d rather be comfortable with death than spend my life chasing after something I’ll never get.” You say with a shrug. Paul and his friend exchange a glance, smiling to themselves. 

“Can we see it?” Paul asks, leaning down a bit to try and catch your eye. You look over at him, then at his friend in the doorway. You stand up straighter and lead them out of the kitchen. Michael is out in the yard now, speaking with the guy with the platinum blonde hair again. It seems like he only speaks to that guy when his friends are around. Paul and his friend with the crazy jacket are whispering words to each other behind you as you lead them up the stairs. 

“My room is a little cramped with how much stuff I have in here. I know I need to get rid of some of it, but I can’t really bring myself to do that.” You say, walking down the upstairs hallway. You open your bedroom door and lead in the two boys. They start to whistle and make quiet comments when they see just how many vampire related things you have. 

“Nice poster.” The one with the jacket says, gesturing towards your ‘Vamp’ poster. You smile and walk over to it, putting your finger on it.

“Oh this one I got from a movie theater. You know how they have those posters for movies that are about to come out or that they’re showing and stuff? Well I asked if they had a poster for Vamp and they gave it to me.” You start to smile widely again, being able to talk about vampires just gets your heart pumping. “It’s a pretty good movie. It’s about these fraternity pledges that need to get some strippers for a party and they unknowingly go to a strip club full of vampires. Grace Jones is in it and she does this dancing scene where she’s wearing body paint done by Keith Haring, who’s this really cool artist.” 

You notice Paul standing next to your coffin, a smile on his face as he opens it up. 

“You sleep in this thing?” He asks, looking over at you while chuckling. 

“Oh no, I don’t sleep in it. I mean sometimes I lay inside of it just for fun. Or I’ve taken pictures of myself inside it, and a friend of mine has a VHS camera, so she took some videos of me inside it, all dressed up like a vampire and stuff.” You say, running your fingers over the red velvet inside the coffin. You push your hand down on the memory foam on the base before you step inside it, crossing your arms over your chest in that cliche vampire way. 

“Not all vampires sleep in coffins. Some sleep in caves.” Paul’s friend says, his attention turned to your large collection of cassette and VHS tapes. You chuckle and open your mouth to reply when you notice someone in the doorway. It’s the brunette of Michael’s friend group. You didn’t even hear him come up. 

“I know. But I just wanted a coffin for the hell of it.” You say, looking away from him and back over to Paul, who’s still standing next to you. He notices your gaze and he chuckles as he sees his other friend in the doorway.

“How nice of you to join us Dwanye. We’ve got a real vampire enthusiast here with us. Don’t we Marko?” He asks with a chuckle, looking from the brunette to the blonde.

“I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to vampires.” Marko jokes, picking up a VHS tape before putting it back. “What would you do if you found out vampires were real?” He asks, looking back over at you. Now you can feel three pairs of eyes on you, all of them pretty much strangers. You quickly turn to your left and pick up a little Dracula action figure, pretending to want to change its pose. 

“Well vampires aren’t real. And unless some huge part of history and murders have been left out of the mainstream for the last however many centuries, and they are real…I don’t know…”

“You wouldn’t be into them if they were real?” Paul asks, walking closer to you. But your eyes stay fixed on your little action figures, moving over to adjust an Elvira one next to the Dracula.

“Well it’s one thing to be into the idea, or the fantasy of something, and another to actually want it to happen to you. I’m pretty sure the people who love to learn about war history don’t wish they were out in the trenches of WW1 or something.” You say with a little chuckle, wiping some dust off the action figure in your hand. “So maybe I don’t know what I’d do if vampires were real, because I know for a fact they aren’t.” As you set down the Elvira action figure Paul reaches his hand out and grabs a book from a spot on your shelf.

But you catch his fingernails. Something happened to his fingernails. It was only for a second. But you saw what they were like. How long they were. How sharp they were. Almost like they were claws. You look over at him and find his hands are normal. He’s just opening the book and flipping through the pages. God your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you need to get your vision checked. 

“Nothing is impossible.” Dwayne says, finally speaking up. You look over at him. He moved from his spot in the doorway, now standing next to your bed, looking at a Jim Morrison poster you have above your bed. You just crack a smile at that, not really sure how to respond. 

“Come on Michael. We can behave ourselves when we want to.” You hear a voice downstairs say. You walk over to your door as Paul puts the book back on the shelf. 

“It’s one thing to get involved with me but you need to leave my family out of this. It’s complicated enough dealing with all of this shit and I don’t need the people I love getting drawn in too.” Michael says. You walk down the hall, closer to the stairs, listening to them go on arguing, almost like a married couple. 

“Your family is fine Michael. You don’t have to worry about them.” You get to a place where you’re mostly hidden from Michael and his friend. They’re standing together in the living room. Michael’s friend is turned away from you, so you can’t see his face. But you can see Michael’s. And it makes your skin crawl a bit. 

“How do I know that you’re not going to get them involved in all of this stuff too? I swear if you even try to-” 

“Your family will be fine Michael.” His friend assures him, cutting him off. “You need to worry about yourself. I think it’s about time you became one of us, fully one of us. We can show you what we are, how to do what we do. But it needs to be soon. I don’t want to wait much longer.” His friend turns his head to the side, giving you a glimpse of his face. But before you could see anymore, the phone in your room starts to ring. You’re pulled out of the little world that conversation created and you walk back into your room, remembering the three strangers you just left inside. 

You pick up the receiver and turn your back to the three boys. “Hello?” 

‘I’ve been looking into all of these disappearances recently. A majority of them result in finding the bodies dead, murdered in brutal ways, usually the cause of death is blood loss, with bite marks all over the body, especially the neck.’ Your friend says. You chuckle a bit in shock, shaking your head while putting your free hand on your hip. 

“Yeah well the police say it’s some kind of animals attacking people. We live in California, remember? There’s a lot of weird critters floating around everywhere.” You say, hearing the boys behind you start to whisper among themselves again. “But now isn’t exactly the best time for me to have this conversation with you.” 

‘But I think the police are trying to cover something up. Or at least they’re not willing to accept what we’re dealing with. I mean, these bite marks are described as having only two or four puncture holes, the closest thing to these being some kind of wolf or coyote. Not to mention these people’s cars are found missing doors, and roofs. What kind of a wolf rips off the roof of a car to eat a human?’ You sigh and run your hand over your face. 

“I think we should talk about this tomorrow. Alright?” You say. Your friend starts to speak again but you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“You expect me to control them like they’re children? Some kind of pet, Michael?” You hear Michael’s friend say, his voice is getting closer along with the footsteps. 

“I gotta go.” You hang up the phone quickly and turn around just in time to see Michael’s friend standing in your doorway, with Michael behind him. There’s a beat of silence between the six of you. While it only lasted for a couple seconds, it felt like an eternity of ringing silence deafening your ears.

“Y/N was just showing off their vampire collection. They’re really into them.” Paul says, smiling at the man in the doorway. He looks at you and you look at him. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, walking further into your room. He walks up to you and holds out his hand, smiling in a way that makes something inside you shift. “I’m David.” 

You take his hand and shake it, feeling the cool leather of his glove on your warm skin. 

“I’m Y/N. Your friends were just really interested in my vampire collection.” You explain, ignoring all the pairs of eyes on you. Choosing to focus your attention on your ‘Fright Night’ poster, trying to make it seem somewhat natural. David takes the time to look around your room, smiling to himself as he does so. 

“Quite the collection.” He says, walking away from you, and over to your coffin. “I bet you’re a bit of a die hard vampire fan.” You let out a chuckle and glance at Michael, who seems like he’s about to chip a tooth with how clenched his jaw is. “Well it was nice to meet you Y/N But I think it’s time that we go out for the night. Right Michael?” David asks, looking over at him in the doorway. Michael nods his head. 

“I’ll get my jacket.” He says, stepping aside to let David leave the room. 

“We’ll have to watch a movie together sometime.” Paul says on his way out, giving you a small wave. Marko and Dwayne follow after him and Michael just gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher before walking down the hall after his friends. He might be mad about you hanging out with them. But they’re some of the few people who aren’t tired of your vampire obsession. So who cares what he says? You’ll have to invite them into your room more often. 

[vickyvicarious]

Jonathan's decision to play along today was very difficult to make. But, in the end, it was the right move. He set aside his anger and impulse to rebel... perhaps as much or more out of fear rather than just logic, but we do see his reasoning and it makes sense.

And honestly, I think he pushed his luck nearly to the limit anyways. Look at how Dracula asked. First, he waited a few days after everything that went down with the vampire ladies, perhaps to see if Jonathan would bring up the topic. If Jonathan does, maybe he had plans to lie to him again, to gaslight him about either never sleeping outside of his room, or about Dracula finding him dreaming somewhere else and helping him back to his own bed. Still, Jonathan's reaction to such a lie could very easily force an end to all this pretending. But since he never brings it up at all, Dracula knows he can continue his game. In fact, Jonathan is proving to be a very resilient player, one who has just enough struggle in him to make it more interesting, without being too unmanageable or ever close to actually get away.

Dracula gives Jonathan this 'request' "in the suavest tones" - he's really emphasizing his charm here, being extra friendly as he tries to make Jonathan feel even worse. But then, contrary to what he's seen thus far, Jonathan hesitates.

I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; my only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease of mind to my friends; and he assured me with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been to create new suspicion.

I think he must have been sitting there making these arguments to himself in real time. Wrestling with his fear and his outrage and possibly losing most of his control over his expression and body language as he did so. And at first, this is fun for Dracula. He wants Jonathan to struggle like this. It's fun to watch. But then, the longer it goes on, the more real becomes the possibility that this will be Jonathan's breaking point. And if it is, if he outright says "no" even this once, then Dracula's entire game is ruined. He's just committed to wanting to keep Jonathan around for another full month. Jonathan passed the test with the other vampires. Dracula has been looking forward to this. How dare he spoil this -

Dracula's rage rises as he finds himself forces to make excuses and be convincing when he likely assumed he no longer needed to put in that much effort. Jonathan finally does agree, but he didn't do so right away. And it's a very fine line, because continuing to do this does in fact make him more interesting and fun in the long run, and thus perhaps allow him to live longer. Maybe after they separate for the evening (morning, being nocturnal) Dracula would actually look back on this moment with indulgent enjoyment. He pushed perhaps right up to the limit of what Dracula would tolerate, but he didn't quite cross it, so the game can continue. But at the same time, pushing like this (or rather, resisting being pushed before giving in) is extremely dangerous in the moment - because in the moment, there's still a chance Jonathan could cross the line. Dracula has a temper and he will take it out on Jonathan if he decides he's had enough.

It's that tightrope again. More of the same. But I just... love imagining this moment. Dracula's sickly-sweet smugness at the start, his utter confidence in his victory once again. And Jonathan - pausing. Saying nothing in response. Thinking it over, taking so long to do so, trying so hard to keep a neutral face but not fully succeeding, maybe keeping his head bowed so his expression can't be seen. Dracula's anger building along with almost a sort of desperation, as he lays out all this bullshit reasoning, maybe losing control of his own tone somewhat as he gets more aggressively vehement. The absolute tension rising, up and up right until the moment Jonathan looks up and agrees, when it suddenly dissipates. But the aftermath lingers, even in Dracula's victory. Even as Jonathan writes the three letters, one after another under Dracula's watchful eye. Dracula takes them from his hand, squeezes his shoulder in ostensible thanks, but such a clear threat. Jonathan's face twitching, a little spasm of fear and despair, at the contact.

It could be SUCH a good scene in an adaptation that emphasized the abusive dynamic here.

[kaybreezy3000]

The Pet (A Five Hargreeves / Male Reader Insert)

16714 words, 10 chapters, rated Explicit for dark themes and sexual content

Realizing that his family were going to be zero help, Five went back to the Commission with one goal in mind. He needed to find out who caused the apocalypse, but as he should have known already, when traveling through time, what you are looking for isn't always what you get. This time, he's taking you down with him.

(Important Note: This is set during Season One. I don't like giving away the whole story in my tags, but don't worry, I am NOT doing a Five as a minor with an adult thing. And the dubious consent thing will also be very interesting, so, you'll just have to read to find out how this one works out, but if you do, I promise it's worth it.)

~~~Originally created for two separate explicit Tumblr requests for a story with Five and a male reader insert, one specifically involving hypnotism in the plot, and Five getting the chance to feel what it means to let go of control for once.~~~

Warnings and Tags: meant to be an intense read, The Handler, Hurt-Angst, Comfort, Sub Five, Dubious Consent, Hypnotism, rough sex, many tags being left off to keep you on your toes until the end, so be warned...it's a dark one. Stay away if not your thing. TY.

The Pet

Chapter one: Prologue

The Handler glanced over her shoulder, looking back at Five. “You would think with all the blood on your hands, doing something as simple as this would’ve been nothing for you, but here you are, stomping along in those cute little schoolboy shorts, looking like a ferocious little puppy that’s about to nip at my heels over something as trivial as details…” 

Five continued watching as the orderlies dragged away their latest victim, but as soon as the other boy was out of sight, his glare turned to the real target of his hatred. “Why didn’t you tell me he was one of us?” he snapped as he stopped next to her. “And even better, what are you going to do with him?” 

The Handler’s smile grew bigger as she looked down at Five like he was the most pathetic thing she’d ever laid eyes on.

Hands trembling, Five’s fingers curled, his fingernails cutting half-moons into his small palms. 

A heat wave of outrage and confusion hit him all over again. 

He could still sense him.

As soon his eyes met that stranger’s, even before they had touched and he had his hands around the other male’s throat, he’d felt a power that was not his own. It was warm, like a blanket wrapping around his entire body, trying to muffle all his senses.

Just before nailing Five in the face, the young man cried out, begging him to let go, and unable to stop himself, Five did let go, but the deed was already done. 

Licking the corner of his lip, Five felt a fresh sting of pain, accompanied by the coppery taste of his own blood, and that only made him more furious. 

Adding insult to injury, rather than reply to his questions, The Handler had dismissively reached into her purse, pulling out a pocket mirror. As she gazed at her reflection, fixing her already perfectly crimson lips, he shook his head in disbelief.

Eyes darting at nothing and everything as he rapidly went over his options, and tried to figure out what was going on, Five concluded that if that kid was like them, based on the year they had taken him, he was only nineteen. Cursing under his breath, his hand raking back through his neatly clipped hair, he also concluded that he never should have agreed to come back with The Handler in the first place. 

None of this should have happened. He had to get back to his family in 2019. They’d find another way to figure out who caused the apocalypse, and as for him… 

“Fuck,” Five quietly cursed again.

Slowly, he started backpedaling, turning away, his hands coming together, the energy needed to open a portal just starting to illuminate his hands. 

His power fizzled out.

“What the ffff-?” Five angrily gasped as he frantically dug at the numbing sensation that was suddenly radiating through the left side of his body. 

Unsteadily spinning back around, Five saw it wasn’t just a tube of lipstick The Handler had in her hand. She’d been hiding a syringe too, just like the one he’d used to sedate the young man they'd just abducted. 

The long hallway began to sway and tilt under his feet. In less than a second, Five’s legs began to give out.

Chapter 2: Screw You and Screw Me Too

The smell of bleachy sterilization filled Five’s nostrils as his eyes began to flutter open.

He knew that smell.

Blinded by the unforgiving lights shining down on him, he started to panic. 

He was in the Commission’s lower-level medical wing; the same place they took him when he’d first been recruited and required their so-called ‘improvements.’ Here they had stripped him naked and hosed him down as he cowered in an open shower stall, uselessly trying to cover his privates.

It didn’t matter what he wanted. It didn’t matter how he felt. They treated him worse than an animal. They had said he needed to be decontaminated, but they did so much more than that.

Desperately trying to wake up and think straight, a whimper crawled up from deep in his throat, but the higher pitched sound of the voice that came out of him didn’t match the one of the horrendously traumatized old man that they had been dehumanizing. Lost in his nightmare of memories, that only terrified Five even more. 

As soon as he could make his limbs move, he began to wildly thrash, but just as fast, hands of people dressed in white scrubs came at him, holding him down. Much smaller than them and way outnumbered, Five wasn’t strong enough to break free, and soon, the restraints they’d been securing to his wrists were tightened.

When his power to blink himself out of there evaporated just as fast as he’d summoned it, Five dug the heel of his shoe into the stainless-steel table under him, sending his knee up, nailing one of the orderlies in the nuts. As the man let go of him, one of the women forced Five’s leg back down as she breathlessly asked, “Should we administer another dose to calm him, Sir?”

Readying a tray of shiny instruments, the lead physician tonelessly said, “No. The subject needs to be fully awake for the process to work. What is already in him will keep him from getting away while we are administering the serum. Once we determine it’s working, and he’s gone through the first stages, then we will give him another very small dose that will keep him manageable until she has time to take care of him more permanently.”

Sure that The Handler was close by, Five looked to the interior windows that opened to the hall. She wasn’t there, but he did see someone else. 

In the next operating room, the young man that he'd helped capture was laying there on a gurney, blankly staring back at him. His jaw was slack, and he wasn’t even strapped down, which meant he was totally screwed and there was no way he was getting away either.

“I’m going to kill all of you!” Five yelled as the hefty nurse yanked his head back by his hair, so another demon in scrubs could jam a gag in his mouth.

By the time they had it secured to the back of his head, all he could do was growl at them, but from the corner of his eye, Five saw movement happening over in the operating room, so he looked that way again.

The young man was still looking at him. Like before, gone was that eerie glow of vibrantly changing colors that had been radiating from his otherwise kind looking eyes that had caught Five’s attention even before The Handler pointed him out. Five could no longer feel that strange pull inside his mind telling him not to look away, but still, he couldn’t take his eyes away from what he’d done.

The assistants rolled their other victim on his side, then the physician raised a scalpel to the back of his neck, slicing him open, but for what, Five didn’t know. He didn’t even flinch. A line of drool slipped from his mouth, but there was a glistening of tears in his otherwise empty eyes, meaning he was aware of what was happening, even if he couldn’t feel it.

Just then, The Handler appeared, her body blocking Five’s view of the horrors happening in the other room. Her red lips curled with amusement as the Commission’s medical staff began cutting open his argyle vest, slicing right through it to his dress shirt. Like they were filleting a fish, they peeled back his clothing in layers, exposing his rapidly heaving chest, and the length of his small, stretched out arms.

“I have to give it to you again, Five. You really are adorable like this,” she said, admiring his skin as it turned an offended pink from even the slightest nick from the blade.

Five squirmed uselessly as the nurses moved along, roughly cleaning him with alcohol, not just all along the trunk of his body, and arms, but other places too. 

They took his uniform shorts, then they removed his underwear.

Drinking him in with sick fascination, The Handler ran a finger along Five’s cheek. “Many here think that it would have been easier to keep you in line by making you stay like this, but unlike you, I am a creature of my word,” she explained, then her focus switched to the other room, taking in her other prize before looking back down, her eyes narrowing. “You got me him…so I am going to give you what you want.” Her predatory gaze moved between Five’s legs. “Don't worry. You’ll be a big boy again in no time.”

Repulsed, Five could do nothing but lay there. 

This made no sense. 

She had told him, ‘They are perfecting your body as we speak.’ 

He’d thought that meant they were building a totally different body for him.

This was not that! 

The Handler grinned. “Lucky you that I figured out a way to leash you, because if I hadn’t, you would be lying dead on the road next to your brother’s stolen ice cream truck right now.” 

As she turned away, the Commission’s head doctor ordered his staff to start inserting dozens of needles into his body.

Frothing on his gag, unintelligible noises screeched out of Five’s mouth as he bucked his hips, frantically fighting against the straps holding him down. Within less than a minute, they had him strung up, with IV’s coming out of him all over the place. Hyperventilating, his eyes wide in terror, he watched them attach bags of fluid to the lines leading into his body. 

The substance crawling through the plastic tubes looked like pure evil, like luminescent clouds of churning black ink.

As the pain started, all Five saw were the fractured images of the room around him, blurred by his tears. His teeth bearing down, all he could hear was the sound of what was left of his soul breaking as his muffled screams got louder, and louder.

Chapter 3: Cat and Mouse

Before all this happened, body rigid with tension, Five stared at the marble partition, listening to The Handler shuffling around in the bathroom stall next to him.

“You know, we value integrity above all else,” she said, her voice velvety sweet. “Trust is essential, and that trust is…built over time. But in the event of a breach, the Commission will act swiftly and without mercy.” She purposefully paused, letting that sink in. “I’m sure you, of all people, can appreciate that.”

Saying nothing back to that thinly veiled threat, The Handler’s toilet flushed. Five reached up, needlessly readjusting his already perfectly knotted, standard black academy necktie.

Mentally cursing himself over getting trapped while sitting on the toilet seat like he was taking a shit, Five crossed his arms over his chest, watching her red heels heading towards the sink.

“I’m feeling peckish. Have you eaten lunch?” she casually questioned.

Jaw muscles working overtime, Five shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied through gritted teeth.

The sink squeaked on, the water splashing as The Handler washed her hands. “Great. How would you like to eat with me in my office?”

The water turned off.

Knees bouncing, Five anxiously bit the inside of his cheek as her heels clicked closer.

“You can eat solid foods, and I can live vicariously…” The tips of her sharp fingernails hooked over the door in front of him, followed by the plume of her platinum white hair “-through you,” she finished, as she peeked at him.

Reactively folding in on himself, the stiffness from the file hidden under Five’s vest crinkled. It was just the smallest amount, but it was enough to make her eyes narrow with vicious glee over how fucked he was.

Giving the best smile he could summon, Five cocked his chin at her as confidently as he could, nodding. “Sounds great,” he answered, sounding every bit the liar he was.

Despite her claim of a burnt rugae, and not being able to eat more than liquids, Five knew The Handler was toying with him. This was all part of her sadistic game; one he’d been playing with her ever since she plucked him out of his apocalyptic nightmare.

He knew that his plan of getting in and out of the Commission headquarters and finding out who he needed to take out to stop the apocalypse was quickly going down the crapper if he didn’t find a way to get her off his back.

With no other choice, forty minutes later, cautiously eyeing her, his well-practiced mask of civility in place, Five pushed his cafeteria tray in from the edge of The Handler’s massive desk and folded his hands in his lap.

“Care for a dessert?” she questioned.

“No, thank you.” His lips quirked. “I had a bad twinkie in the apocalypse. Kind of put me off desserts.”

The Handler leaned in, pushing her crystal candy dish in Five’s direction. “Please indulge me,” she insisted. Waiting, she lit her cigarette, taking a long drag as she rocked back in her chair.

Forced to oblige her again, Five moved forward, picking up a tiny foil covered candy from the dish. While he was contemplatively savoring the sugary, Commission engineered flavor that had miraculously captured all the nostalgia of 1955 drug store with their soda fountains and malted milkshakes, the viper in front of him hit her intercom, calling in Carla. Not a minute later, she joined them, setting down a long, flat box on the desk in front of him.

Five quickly stood up as The Handler sauntered around her desk to join him. Blowing a plume of smoke towards the ceiling, she gave a wave of her hand, encouraging him to look inside the package.

He lifted the lid, revealing a black 3-piece suit, one that clearly wasn’t meant for him to wear while in his currently, less than desirable thirteen-year-old body.

“Don’t look so pouty, Five,” The Handler scolded, like he was a real child, not just someone that looked like one. Further patronizing him, she ran the tip of her finger under his chin, making him look at her. “This situation is temporary,” she assured, grinning even more as Five shifted on his feet, but remained under her pitying gaze, with nowhere to go but right where she wanted him. “Just like those delicious candies you just got a taste of. Here at the Commission, we have all sorts of tricks up our sleeves. We can make things the way they were, and better.”

Fighting the urge to blink away, the Handler thankfully dropped her hand before stroking it over his boyishly soft brown hair, petting him, but Five could tell she was about to do it and that was bad enough.

Skin crawling, he scowled.

“Clothes make the man, Five,” she clucked. “Won’t it be nice when you can actually wear it.” Five looked back down at the suit. “Very soon… They’re perfecting your body as we speak.”

Just the sight of the finely tailored men's clothing made Five want to believe what she was saying was true. But hating himself for even considering trusting her again, his stomach sank even further than it already was because it didn’t matter if she was telling the truth.

He wasn’t going to stay with them long enough to find out if they could fix him. What he wanted didn’t matter. All that mattered was saving his family. That was all that ever mattered.

Still, looking at his feet, there was no hiding the twinge of pain he felt twisting around inside of him. “Thank you. It’s a very kind gift,” he softly replied.

Shutting the box, wanting to block all of that out, with his hands burrowing in his pockets, Five turned around, strolling over to admire the Chinese flamethrower he’d noticed on the way in.

With only a small sign of interest in it, soon, he had The Handler proudly showing off her other trinkets she’d gathered while doing the work of the Commission. After that, Five had thought they’d moved past the bathroom incident, so it was the perfect time to carry on with his real agenda.

“Since I am part of the team upstairs now,” he started, “may I make a suggestion?”

“Of course, please do,” The Handler replied as she picked up her Walther pistol, the one Hitler supposedly used to kill himself.

Five smiled cordially as possible, his eyes naturally wandering towards the gun. “Wouldn’t it be simpler for case managers if we removed Gloria from tube operation and did that part ourselves? Isn’t she an unnecessary cog in the wheel?” he questioned, deliberately using his employer’s own words to further his point and hopefully make her think he was buying into all her lines of bullshit.

Moving right past Five’s attempt to shift things in a way he could manipulate them, The Handler laughed. “Gloria has been with us for ages. There is no way we could function without her.” Gun still in hand, holding it up to let Five get a closer look, she leaned in and conspiratorially whispered, “We aren’t supposed to take these things, but…he wasn’t going to use it anymore.”

She straightened after that, the heat of her larger body and the feel of her flared skirt moving away from Five’s backside, but unfortunately the minimal distance from her only made it slightly easier for him to breathe.

“Speaking of the perks of this job,” she said, winking at him. “I know about a place that serves a pie that rivals those candies you were just sucking on.” Metal clicked as she cocked the gun. “Like this death dealing piece of metal here,” she pointed the barrel at him, closing one eye as she aimed. “It's one of a kind.”

It took everything inside Five not to move.

Sniggering over how perplexed he looked, she finally lowered the weapon. “Let's go get you a treat worthy of celebrating your first day back with us,” she said. “Then…” She stepped over, putting her pistol back in its case next to her pile of M26 Vietnam era grenades. “After we get you a proper sugar fix to refuel that brilliant mind of yours, I’ll let you get back to work so you can prove to the rest of upper management why I wasn’t wrong about bringing you back.”

Walking to the door, The Handler picked up one of the Commission’s huge briefcases, extending her hand towards Five.

Slowly coming closer, all he wanted to do was run, but adding to his other mistakes of that day, he didn’t.

Chapter 4: Too Sweet

A few seconds later, Five was inundated by the sounds and smells of a small diner, one that looked like something you’d see back in the 50’s, only a flat screen TV behind the counter was playing a music video, so it was immediately clear that they weren't in that era.

As they stepped up to the podium, a middle-aged woman looked up, greeting them with a tired smile. “Out of school already?” she asked, looking down at Five.

The Handler proudly grinned at Five as she replied, “For him it is, and he’s been such a good boy today, I decided to bring him for a piece of your famous pie.”

“We rarely get to see young faces in here these days, but once you’ve tried our dessert, you’ll be hooked,” the woman said as she led them in, gesturing to a young man that was sitting alone, with his back facing them as he ate at one of the middle tables.

Already irritated, Five snagged a newspaper from one of the uncleared booths as he passed, shaking the crumbs to the floor before he slid into the vinyl covered seat across from The Handler.

“It’s 2008,” he murmured as his eyes moved over the page.

He glanced around again.

Based on what he could see outside, he knew that they weren’t far from the Umbrella Academy.

The Handler had brought him to his family's home turf, only at a time when he wouldn’t have been with them anymore, and most of them weren't living there anymore either, but the question was why?

She never did anything without reason, and this obviously wasn’t about the food.

About to question her, Five was interrupted when a younger server came by, setting down his dessert.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Five set the paper down, addressing the blonde waitress. “And a cup of coffee. Black,” he said, smiling a little too sweetly.

Apparently not at all charmed, the girl in her later twenties looked to The Handler for approval, and Five could no longer hold in his ire. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked down at the table.

Sounding tickled as ever over all of this, The Handler approved of his caffeinated beverage, followed by a joke about caffeine stunting his growth, which made Five hate her no less.

Eyes roaming around the diner again, Five noticed it wasn’t very busy. Besides the young man with his headset on who was totally absorbed with something on his laptop, and a few other old couples that were dispersed throughout the restaurant, that was it.

“Here you go, enjoy,” the waitress said, coming around, setting down his steaming mug of coffee.

Picking up his fork, though not at all hungry for the cherries covered in fluff, with his other hand, Five reached for his coffee, bringing it to his lips.

“She was pretty,” The Handler conversationally noted while he quickly drained his cup.

“Who?” Five asked, his fork filled with berries waiting in front of his mouth.

“The waitress,” The Handler replied, sounding even more amused by his oblivious reply.

Five hadn’t even noticed, which again was probably why the evil woman across from him was smirking. It’s not that he didn’t admire a good-looking woman. Dolores was a woman. It was just that-

“It’s unimaginable how lonely it must be…” The Handler dangled, interrupting his depressing thoughts about why it was so hard for him to do much more than look when it came to anyone that he found attractive.

Not taking the bait, Five said nothing, his fork slowly setting down on his napkin with the bite of food still on it.

“You're restless… Discontent. I see that as plain as that cute little nose on your fresh new face,” she furthered.

The tip of her shoe brushed against his knee sock.

Pushing himself back in the booth, as far away from her as he could get, Five looked away, noticing the young man who had been studying at the table next to them was now looking at him, his eyes focused on the crest stitched to the breast of his dark blue Umbrella Academy blazer.

Five loudly cleared his throat and the young man’s startled eyes met his, the look of confusion in them only getting worse. By now, as far as history was concerned, Five would have been missing for six years, not to mention he wasn’t supposed to be a little kid anymore.

“How I feel doesn’t matter,” Five finally said, rebuffing The Handler’s comment, while looking back down at his napkin.

“Sure it does,” she countered just as fast. “A man like you…one whose needs are hardly being met, is a man, tick tick ticking…like a bomb, just waiting to go off.”

Under the edge of the table, Five’s fingers curled into claws that wanted to dig her eyes out. He leveled her up with his glare. “Just spit it out! What you want? We are drawing unwanted attention, and I personally don’t have time for this.”

“Oh, Five, “she tittered. “Why always so dour?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Call it a habit born out of expecting the worst and always getting it.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms over her mounded bodice. “You ask what this is about? Well... It’s like that suit I knew you’d love. I just want to keep my agents happy.”

“Sure you do,” he sarcastically mimicked.

“With that case you had today…” She paused, raising one of her perfectly manicured brows. “Taking care of the Hindenburg with something as simple as seeing to it that a tainted roast was delivered to the right person… Now that was genius, and I expected no less from you. You didn’t pull the trigger, but the success of the job well done was no less satisfying, am I right?”

She was right, but lips pursed tight, Five refused to admit it.

“Be careful, Five. Pride is your Achille's heel, that and that tragic longing you have for acceptance and approval. You try to hide it, but I see right through you.”

About to jump the table and strangle her, Five picked up his fork instead, taking a bite of the flaky crust and berries, angrily swallowing it down as he pretended to be interested in the sticky looking ketchup bottle sitting next to the other condiments.

She’d hit a nerve. And worse, she was still on to him. The file on Dot’s desk covering his apocalypse was empty, and he should have known it would be, but he’d thought The Handler had let that go.

He had to be better than this.

He couldn’t let her get the upper hand this time.

This time, Five had called her, and come to them of his own free will.

This time, he was going to show them what happened when they tried to play God with him and the people he cared about. He just needed to get back to the main office again, so he could do some digging, and then no more Mr. Nice Guy in the cute little schoolboy shorts.

A small smile pulled at his sugar covered lips as he thought about the grenades he saw in her office.

Looking next to him, the kid who had been eyeing him up had started packing up his things.

“You need something to come home to, to fill that void, and scratch that itch,” The Handler pushed, clearly not done with whatever point she was trying to make. “You need something, or maybe better put, someone to exercise your demons.”

With an even worse sensation of unease hitting him, not at all comfortable with where any of this was going, Five looked back at her.

“Someone who knows just how to take care of you…” she said, “someone to turn that frown upside down.”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow.”

“You need a pet, and this place is exactly the kind of place to find the special kind of pet you need, because…” she plucked her sleeve, pulling it up a little so she could look at her watch, “because in just about four minutes, thanks to the gas line leaking under our feet, this place, and everyone in it will be no more. They are all free game.”

The Handler’s malevolent gaze moved to the table next to them, her crimson painted smile more devious looking than Five had ever seen it.

All at once, it dawned on him that she wasn’t talking about a furry sort of pet.

Hands sweating as he drew them up the navy-blue fabric covering his tensed thighs, he shook his head. “No,” he croaked, his voice catching in his suddenly dry throat.

“Don’t be so unimaginative,” she fired back.

“You must be confused, because I have no idea what you are talking about,” he lied.

“Really?” she mocked. “Our assassins come from some very dark places. You included. It’s perfectly understandable that a man like you has particular needs that are not exactly easy to fill, considering your past, and current condition… Relationships of any kind are not exactly where you excel, Five.”

Shifting his legs under the table, Five tried not to let her see how that had sung, but just like the young man next to him, who was waiting for his bill, his fingers anxiously tapping the tabletop, it was obvious that he couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“It’s no secret that others in our employment have taken advantage of their unique positions,” The Handler furthered.

She pointed to the boy as Five watched him nervously swallowing, the dips and curves of his throat slowly moving, the look of it so sinfully alluring that he felt even warmer.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, as if they were discussing an item on the menu, not another person who could probably hear them.

“I don’t think anything,” Five shot back, the shrillness of his voice making the other young male look over at them again, his eyes filled with what Five could for sure see this time was much more than frustration with how long it was taking to get his check.

The implications she was making were already making Five’s stomach roll, the acid of his lunch painfully adding to the forced bites of his pie.

He may have been extremely reclusive during his years working for the Commission, but Five had heard the rumors. Having a life in your hands of someone who was already written off, opened the door for the possibility of all sorts of bad things to go down, other than violent bloodshed.

“I never did that,” Five breathed, thinking about two agents in the locker rooms during training who were telling stories of having their way with their victims before they put a bullet in their heads.

“Oh- Oh, I know. You are much too sweet to do something like that,” The Handler assured, followed by a mocking laugh. “It is quite surprising though that you haven’t given in. You of any of our agents had every reason to,” she said, her tone dripping with saccharin sympathy.

She came forward, her hand reaching out to touch Five’s where it was hotly pressed to the table.

Fingers prying his hand up, flipping it over, she opened his palm, then purred, “You are missing something, Five. You know it. We all know it, and you're dying inside because of it.”

Five looked down at the syringe she’d just placed in his hand. Heat crawled up his neck; his blazer felt like it was a fur lined parka rather than a ridiculously tailored piece of summer wool.

He knew they were watching him all those years he suffered in the apocalypse, alone and on the edge of madness as he clung to the hope that he could get back and end this.

He knew they never stopped watching him, even after he’d signed away what was left of his soul to them.

All he’d ever had was himself, and the emptiness of that sometimes felt so crushing that he could hardly breathe.

Just the feel of The Handler’s fingernails seductively dipping under his cuff, gliding along his Umbrella Academy tattoo, had Five so overwhelmed he was nearly paralyzed, stuck on the verge of either blinking himself away, or falling further into the flood of emotions he was drowning in.

Instead of doing either of those things, he schooled his expression to one of indifference. Unblinking, his reply came out unwavering. “In exchange for the life of all my siblings, I agreed to work for you again, but I do not need or want this, so drop it.”

Looking unconcerned by Five’s refusal, The Handler stood up, her hands coming to her hips, straightening the tufts of sheer fabric that covered her couture A-line skirt. “We are the lucky few that exist out of time, Five. I never settle for subpar out of life, and neither should you. I take what I want, for example, like this Dior dress from the premier 1947 collection.”

“This is over,” he deadpanned, menacingly rising out of the booth as he looked her dead on, ready to kill her.

She burst out laughing. “Five, you are too easy. I was just joking with all that.”

“You were joking?”

“Yes, but tick-tock, we are on the clock. Time to collect what I really came here for, which was that handsome young man over there, only for me, not you. Hop to it. Go get him.”

As soon as the young man she’d been talking about was done signing his bill, the diner’s pen skittered across his table, hitting the floor as he bolted for the door.

“If he gets away, our deal is off. I’ll just get one of my other agents to retrieve him,” The Handler warned, her expression confidently calm as she held the briefcase up, a sign that she meant it. Like always, she held all the power.

Trapped like always, right before he blinked, Five’s hand tightened around the needle in his hand.

Chapter Five: Do Unto Others

Number Five Hargreeves, or the boy as they had called him, was a legend, but he wasn't supposed to be there sitting with that creepy bitch, his smug little face looking at you as he ate his pie. 

Laying there as they implanted their device inside your neck, you heard and saw enough to understand that you were somewhere you shouldn’t be, and he should be there either, but he obviously was, and he wasn’t there because he wanted to be. The restraints made that clear enough, but Five’s verbal threats of killing all of them confirmed it.

Somehow, they knew what you could do, or at least the people in charge there did. When Five had attacked you, you could tell that he was genuinely shocked by it. Seeing him there in that diner, you knew something was wrong. You should have taken off the second you saw him and that woman, but you didn’t, and now you were totally fucked, getting marched along like a mindless solider, there to do their bidding.

As they shoved you inside, looking around your new cage, otherwise known as Five’s shitty apartment, the Commission agents dropped a file on the kitchen table, ordering you to read it. Then they reminded you, that if you didn’t do as you had been told, or if you stepped over the threshold of the exterior door, you would be first electrocuted again, then if that didn’t stop you, and you kept trying to get away, the device in your neck would be manually triggered, and then you’d be dead.

In their hospital, after starting to regain the use of your limbs, the first thing you had done was try to escape, and that was how you knew they weren’t kidding about the electrocution thing. 

As that little Umbrella Academy asshole in the next room howled in agony, your feet hit the floor, your knees coming down on the cold tiles a second later thanks to your body’s refusal to cooperate. Looking down at you as you knelt at her feet, the one they were calling The Handler grinned at you, then she hit a button on a small switch she had concealed in her hand.

It felt like a bolt of lightning struck you in the head, reverberating through your entire body.

“Ssst- Stop-op-pllleeeaa-ssss-tttt-” you stammered as the aftershocks caused your body to spasm and your eyeballs to roll back in your head, getting stuck there, jittering. 

Your teeth clattered together so hard you tasted your own blood, and it hurt so much, you even pissed yourself, but she didn’t care. “Don’t do that again,” she chirped while smiling at you.

No way, you had thought. You weren’t going down like that. 

You almost never did this. You knew it wasn’t right. All you wanted was a normal life before this, but staring at her, your pupils instinctively dilated, the swirl of colors hidden in your irises flamed in outrage. “Let me-!”

You got zapped again before you could even get the words out to compel her to let you go, not that it would have mattered if you had said it, because the shorter, darker skinned, woman that had just came in was looking back at you with the same hypnotic glow of insistence you'd just had in your eyes.

“Relax,” she soothed. “You are going to listen to me now. Do you understand?” 

Your eyes drooped tiredly, and your mind slipped into a fuzzy state of forced contentment. “I understand,” you replied.

The Handler looked at the younger, much more casually dressed woman. “Lila, please tell him exactly what I said to you about how this is going to go from here on out.”

The deep pools of chocolatey brown gazing at you filled with even brighter light, and even through the control she was wielding over you, you still sensed a flicker of something in them, hitting you the way your power normally did when you were the one doing this invasively cruel act. 

She wasn’t the only one invading brains in that room, but she didn’t seem to be aware of that. They didn’t understand exactly how your power worked, or maybe it was just that since it wasn’t hers, she wasn’t able to fully command it the way you could. Either way, this Lila person didn't want to do this and that meant you still had a chance.

Where you were filled with fear, and rage, that thanks to her was now muted to a dull sense of lingering nothing, she was filled with a deep need for love. Thinking so much like Five had been as he came at you at the diner, appearing in front of you in a crackling burst of blue energy and violent momentum, Lila saw no other way. To get what she wanted, she needed to follow the orders she had been given, but with Five, you had seen that it was all a ruse. 

Five had thought he could outwit them. You were just collateral damage getting in the way of a much bigger purpose that was driving him. 

In those sad, pale green eyes, you had seen the end of the world, and him in it, alone. He’d already lived a lifetime of wanting things he’d never have. Being loved didn’t matter.

The glimpse you’d seen of the things Five endured were…

There were no words.

“Get him up,” The Handler demanded, and just like that, you were being lifted off the floor by the nurses that had dragged you in there.

Hardly able to hold yourself up, they supported you between them, your head sluggishly turning towards the room where Five was. He was laying there, totally naked, thrashing, and screaming for help that no one there was going to give him. 

“Look at me,” Lila said, and pulled by the invisible thread she’d already weaved into you, you did, your eyes nothing more than blank slates of light, burning blindly, seeking direction. “Do you know who that is in there?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good. From here on out, you are allowed to do whatever is necessary to take care of him, to keep him…sated. He is yours, and you are his.”

Making a mistake, she looked at the real woman in charge, for just a fraction of a second, allowing you to come back to yourself enough to process what she’d said in a way that you were sure The Handler did not intend.

“When he arrives back at his apartment in a few hours,” Lila continued, locking eyes with you again, “bind him to you with your power. You will never leave his home, and he is never to leave this timeline unless we say so. Your entire purpose is to see to it that he thinks he wants to be here.”

The words, ‘unless we say so,’ lingered in your head, giving a window of opportunity that you couldn’t quite put together yet, but with that, it was still done. You had no choice. You had to do as she said, and even more awful, you wanted to.

Chapter 6: Hurt

Having cleaned up and changed into some of Five’s old man flannel pajama pants and one of his short-sleeved undershirts, you were sitting at one of his only two wobbly kitchen chairs when the door to his one room efficiency apartment burst open.

In nothing but a hospital gown that they hadn’t even tied closed, they lugged him inside, carelessly throwing him down on his bed with his back facing you. As soon as the two brutes shut his door, Five began to sob, his entire, noticeably larger body, shuddering uncontrollably. 

Gasping for breath like even breathing was hard for him, his left hand moved between his legs, the muscles in his bicep and forearm tensing from the repeated jerking movements of his wrist.

Staring at his bare ass as he writhed, you slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl of canned soup you were eating. 

“Shit,” you breathed, hardly able to believe what you were seeing. 

Five was older, not looking really much different in age then you, when only an hour before, he was just a scrawny little neck stabbing douchebag. You knew he wasn’t really a kid. You had seen the picture of him, pre-maturely snowy white hair paired with a mustache of pepper and salt. You’d read about him as they'd directed, getting more acquainted with him to do your job, but this…

This wasn’t right. Five had not wanted them to do this. You had watched him desperately trying to get away.

They had hurt him with what they’d done, and he was still hurting, though you couldn’t tell if it was physical pain, mental, or both. Either way, you knew that he was jerking off, and the people at the Commission were monsters.

But then again, so were you, and so was Five.

Like a switch had been flicked on inside your brain, Lila’s voice circled around inside your head.

Bind him with your power.

He is yours.

And you are his.

Keep him sated. 

Closing the manila file that was filled with documented evidence that Five was not at all what he seemed, you shifted in your seat from the unexpected feeling of your own cock stiffening. The second the metal of your spoon hit the side of the porcelain bowl, he went completely still.

In a flash, he was on you, blinking across the room, his now much heavier body weight slamming into you, knocking you backwards while still not even up out of your chair.

Your head cracked against the ugly linoleum floor, your brain bouncing inside your skull as he pinned you under him, his strong arms and legs easily countering yours as you tried to throw him off.

“Get off of me, you fucker!” you shouted, rapidly blinking your eyes to clear the stars from your vision, but it didn’t work fast enough.

One of his hands came around your neck, ruthlessly choking you. “NO!” Five snarled, as you grabbed at his face, trying to make him look at you. 

Apparently, he was on to you and what you could do if given the chance because he forced your cheek to the floor, but just as fast, you jabbed him in the ribcage. Sucking in a pained hiss, he let go of your face, and you reached up, yanking him by his freshly grown mop of tangly dark hair, bringing your faces back together again.

Eyes ablaze, you gurgled, “S-top figh-ting-ME!”

Caught off-guard, Five couldn’t look away, but he fought back anyway, bucking his hips against yours as he tried to shake his head from your hold. The long, hot, hard length of his dick became even more wedged against yours, with nothing between you, other than his flimsy hospital gown and your borrowed pajama pants.

Feeling what you were feeling, because there was no way he wasn’t, looking even more ballistic, Five tried to throw his head back then forward to headbutt you, but that only made his cock rut into yours harder, and you didn’t let go of his head.

His face came forward anyway, his nose brushing against the tip of yours. His mouth gaped open as he gasped, his moist breath coating your lips.

Trying to speak again, he tightened his hand. Your words weren’t coming out, so you tried speaking to his mind instead. 

Focus on my eyes, Five, nothing else. I am not the one you should be fighting. Let me go!

The smallest flame started to reflect back at you as he watched the swirls of color building in your eyes. He was falling under your spell, but he still didn’t let go of your neck.

You almost had him, but you were growing dizzy from lack of oxygen. Your own eyes were fighting to stay open. You were sure that he was going to succeed in snuffing you out, and all the crap The Handler and Lila had done to get you there would have gone to waste, but then Five’s already ghostly pale face started to look more ashen. 

His sweaty brow furrowed, his face suddenly looking a sickly shade of green.

He started to gag.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! your mind screamed at him, right before he emptied the contents of his stomach, some of it splashing up on you even though you’d pushed his face to the side at the last second.  

With nothing left in him, Five finally let go, then he collapsed, his face burrowing against the start of bruises already forming along the length of your neck.

As your chest rose and fell, your body taking in the air it had been denied, the now much longer hair on the top of his head fluttered with your labored breaths. He had listened to you because he had no choice, but you also had a voice inside that wasn’t yours, and you couldn’t silence it.

‘… you are allowed to do whatever is necessary to take care of him.’

The heat between your bodies was about as impossible to ignore as the feel of his erection next to yours.

You laid your hand against the small of his back. Five flinched from even that lightest touch, but you kept your hand there.

“Everything hurts. It won’t stop,” he cried, the wetness of his words as his mouth opened against the side of your throat was heartbreaking as his tears washing over your skin.

Chapter Seven: Trust 

“You need to get up,” you told Five, letting the warmth of your hand slip away from the curve of his lower back, but only after he’d quieted. As you pushed your elbows into the floor, trying to sit up, you felt the slickness of his vomit coating your arm. “That is so gross,” you huffed in exhausted irritation.

Coming out of his delirium, Five started untangling himself. Now that he wasn’t ordered to look at you, he refused to meet your gaze. He looked down at his diamond patterned hospital gown instead, and the impressive tent he was making out of it with his dick.

He looked horrified.

Staggering to his bathroom, you watched him disappear, slamming the bathroom door so hard it rattled everything inside his small apartment.

Hearing the sound of Five taking what had to be a very sloppy, and very difficult to execute piss, you looked down at the floor. 

“What a fucking mess,” you muttered, right before a loud, man-sized thud hit the wall.

Coming inside the bathroom to see what he’d done now, you were greeted with the sight of Five slumped on the floor, wedged between the toilet and the bathtub, a space that didn’t look at all comfortable, or like he’d put himself there intentionally.

He was trembling. Now that you weren’t holding him together, he was falling apart all over again, and there you were, doing not much better, covered in his puke, trying to figure out which you wanted to do more, kill him or…

“Shit,” you said, sighing as you threw a frustrated hand back through your hair.

Pulling his knees towards him, burying his head in his hands, Five mumbled through his fingers. “I didn’t want to do this to you. I had no choice.”

“I know, but I still hate you,” you said.

He looked up, his eyes glistening. “Why are you here…with me?”

“Because they want me here. I also have no choice in this. If I walk out your front door, my brain stem is going to end up deep fried like a churro. Speaking of which, you have no food here. Why have dishes when your refrigerator is empty.”

You reached back, your fingers gingerly grazing the stitches that they had only just closed a few hours before. You winched, triggered by the memory of debilitating pain The Handler had graced you with.

The line between Five brows deepened. “What are you doing to me?” he questioned.

“Nothing at the moment.” 

It was true, you weren’t, but he didn’t look like he was buying it.

You glared at him. “I’m not the one responsible for your Alice in Wonderland, magical sizing up issue, or that hefty boner you’re dealing with." You swore you saw the tiniest twitch in the corner of his mouth. 

“No. You are not,” he coolly replied. “I am being hit with six years' worth of developmental hormones all at once, so clearly that was not what I meant, and I think you knew that. What’s your excuse?”

Looking slightly less venomous, he glanced at the flannel covered outline of your semi hard cock, the shape of your mushroom like tip still protruding enough that the thin fabric was doing nothing to help you hide it.

“Maybe I like getting pounced on by boney old men with big dicks." Only partly joking about that, you extended your hand. To your surprise, Five took it without you making him, but he swayed on his feet the second you’d pulled him upright.

“Well, you know what they say about skinny guys with big shoes,” he said, looking loopy as hell.

“What? That they are huge assholes?”

“Something like that,” Five said as he put a hand to his stomach and grimaced, stumbling back into his sink, looking way too pale again.

“Let me help you,” you whispered as he looked up at you, his new height still not quite matching yours and only made worse by the way he was struggling to stand up straight.

Shaking like a leaf, you could tell Five was going to take off again, or barf, so you planned your next words very carefully, saying them in a calming cadence that only added to the trance-like state you were putting him in with your eyes.

“You are safe with me, Five. I need you to do as I say. Don’t try to get away from me, or them. You want to be here with me. We are both staying here, me never leaving this apartment and you work for them, doing everything they say. Confirm that you understand that.”

He nodded and very subtly, you motioned around you, warning him in case he hadn’t already known.

Sending a message to his mind only, you said, they are listening to us, maybe even watching.

He nodded again that he had heard you.

“Take in a breath,” you said, taking a long slow breath yourself, trying to calm your nerves.

He did too, holding it because you hadn't told him he could let it out.

“As you let it out, you will feel the pain inside you melting away. All of it gone.”

The words filled his head, a warmth of something he didn’t understand dulled his sickness and fear as he obediently exhaled.

“Say, ‘I trust you,” you demanded.

“I trust you,” Five repeated, a fire from deep in his eyes burning back, letting you know that you had him.

Saying nothing more, you helped Five to the edge of the shower, urging him inside, keeping him upright with your slightly larger frame as you stepped inside with him.

Chapter Eight: Coming Together, Coming Apart

Positioning him with his back facing you, the warming spray of the shower head began covering you both, filthy clothes and all.

Now that he wasn’t attacking you, or on the verge of collapse, you really looked at Five, taking him in, your eyes trained on the muscular swell of his narrow, but strong looking hips.

He was so…

Fuck.

As if he was the one that held you in a trance of sexual subjugation, you gripped the length of your shaft, your fingers moving to the tip, stretching the material around your thick glans. The evidence of how turned on you were seeped out of you as you squeezed your girth, adding to the already rapidly darkening fabric. The words came out of you as if someone else had said them. “You are going to stand here and say and do nothing unless I tell you that you can. If I ask you something, you will not lie to me. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Five softly answered, still hypnotized by your power, even though he could no longer see into your burning eyes.

You had never done this to anyone before, and the thrill of taking control of him like this, in this way, only made it that much harder to stop.

Your breath cascaded down the back of Five’s neck and he shivered. You pushed the sleeves of his hospital gown down his arms, letting it drop at your feet. Hands coming to his hips, you pulled him back against you, the curve of his firm ass cheeks pressing against your now fully hard cock.

Five stiffened at first, but as your hands slowly moved around, your fingers relishing in the quiver of his toned stomach muscles, you heard him let out the quietest moan, and you felt him push back against you of his own free will.

“Do you want to be touched you like this?” you breathed, already knowing he did.

“Yes,” he gasped, sounding so pained, and so broken, that it made your balls quiver and your cock twitch.

"Do you like men, Five?"

He didn't answer, his mind fighting you back, so you said it again, this time with your lips against the back of his neck. "Have you ever fantasized about having sex with men, Five?"

"Yes," he quietly croaked with a nervous sort of shame in his tone over that forced admission that didn't fit the fierce man who only minutes before was trying to choke the life out of you.

He was so fucking beautiful. Innocent only far from it. Everything in you wanted to destroy him, but you took no more than that, just relishing in the feel of your dick being enveloped by his hard ass cheeks. His body was nothing but lean muscle, and you knew just what he could do with it too, only now, Five wasn’t walking around as a violently little thirteen-year-old. 

If given the order, now, like this, at the prime of life, he’d be so much more terrifyingly lethal than he was before. 

He is yours, your mind whispered, and fuck yes you wanted to believe that, even without Lila’s voice telling you that was already true.

Reaching for his shampoo, you glopped a squirt of it in your hand, then brought it to your head and face, washing away any remaining traces of the stomach splatter he had gotten on you. Then getting more soap, you brought your hands to Five’s head, massaging your fingers into his scalp. 

Already going weak in the knees with pleasure over the feel of it, Five’s head rolled back on his shoulders. Biting in a moan, he had to reach out, his palm pressing against the glass shower door to support himself. As you worked your hands down his neck, kneading his shoulders, then the long curve of his spine, he let out a series of puppy-like whimpers that only made you want to hear more intoxicating noises like that coming out of him. 

“Have you ever done this or anything like it with anyone before?” you questioned.

“No. I only had Dolores,” he whispered.

You knew who Dolores was. The mannequin's picture was in his file. You let out a shaking breath, and kept going, your own sighs mixing with his, turning into a throbbing ball of pain and a full-bodied ache of frustration the more you touched him. This was wrong, but you couldn’t stop. You could practically feel Five’s tight rim clamped around the base of your cock as you took the only thing left of his purity, ramming him balls deep as he screamed your name.

Playing with his wet stomach, you explored the shiny grooves of his abs as they twitched, making his cock stutter and bob between his legs.

“You want me to help you take care of this?” you questioned, knowing he wanted to touch himself so badly, only he couldn’t unless you told him he could. 

“Please, yes! I- I need- It won’t-”

He couldn’t even say it. Five was so distraught, for all you knew, he’d been sporting a hard-on for hours, unable to do anything about it as he lay, strapped to that operating table in front of all of them.

Releasing him, you quickly peeled your shirt over your head, then took hold of him again, arms coming around, holding him to you as your hands worshiped his chest, fingers splaying over his small tight nipples before tracing patterns across his abs again. 

“Nnn-ahhh,” Five keened, wriggling against you because he was so overwhelmed by being handled this way.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Five?” you questioned, your mouth greedily coming to his neck, sucking at the salty taste of his delicious skin.

Something inside hadn’t abandoned him, because even though you’d asked Five a question, again he didn’t answer it.

The darkness in your mind felt like it was suddenly eating at you. You needed him to comply. Your eyes flared with anger as you reactively bit into him, your teeth drawing a cry of pain that made Five sound like the terror filled little boy he had looked like only hours before, and that only pissed you off even more.

You hated this, but you hated even more than you didn’t.

Fighting the voices and the desire to do worse to him, your mouth moved along the crest of Five’s shoulder, breathing him in as he trembled. “Shhhh,” you hotly warned, kissing him so softly that he deliriously whimpered again. 

His hand slipped along the glass as he began to move, but just as fast, you took hold of him, taking his uncut cock up against his abdomen, pumping your hand along the veiny length of it.

“Fah-ah-aaahhckkkk,” he groaned, automatically reacting to the new sensation with his hips reactively springing to life like a bouncing rabbit. 

You loved the sound of that, and the feeling of him frantically rocking against you. He needed this so badly you could feel him throbbing in your hand. “I'm yours, Five. My only purpose is to make you happy. Tell me what you want,” you said while slowly fucking him with your hand, the pressure of your confined erection screaming at you to be released.

“I want this! Please, fuck! I need to cum!” he cried, as you looked over his shoulder, longingly taking in the sight of the pearly string of fluid that was steadily leaking from his swollen red slit onto his taut torso. You smeared his bloated glans around his navel, letting his pre-cum slick your fingers, making it even easier to move them up and down his big cock.

Sliding the hand you had at his hip, back over his perky ass, you brought your fingers to the tight ring of puckered flesh hidden between his cheeks. Five flinched and lurched forward from the invasive sensation, but circling his rim while rolling his foreskin up and down, teasing his cockhead, you were determined to tangle the programing in his head that was used for interpreting whether this were right or wrong. The main lust driven goal to make him associate you playing with his ass with the feeling of pleasure and total submission.

“I only want to make you feel good, Five,” you promised, then slowly inserted your finger inside him, up to the second knuckle, then pulled it out again, repeating the pattern of in and out, dragging his hole open slowly each time.

Overstimulated to the point of tears, soon you had him panting and his thighs quivering. Not blinking away or even attempting to stop you, but again proving that your power over him may have been slipping, Five cried out, “Please, Ffff-!” 

You weren’t sure if he wanted more or less, but pulling out of him, you ran your fingers over the bar of soap sitting on the small shelf next to you, bringing the sudsy fingers back to his hole. With no foreplay this time, you plunged your finger into his virgin hole that felt so tight, you knew it would deny your cock entry but that only made you want to fuck him even more.

Five growled as he closed his eyes, helplessly rocking against your hands, and you loved it way too much that he wasn’t even capable of being ashamed or forming words anymore. 

Obliging his desire for more master playing with his angry little puppet, you pumped him faster and harder, penetrating him with a second finger, crooking both digits as you twisted them and tapped them against his prostate. Five moaned so loud and raggedly, the needy tremor of it was almost enough to make you blow your load. Instead of doing that, or bending down to lick his ass hole and really send him to another planet, you shut your eyes too, focusing on nothing but him and the hypnotizing sounds of his hitched breaths.

“You like me fucking your cock and your hole, Five?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Fucking, ffff-” he breathed, licking his lips as he threw his head back against yours.

Straining, Five clenched his groin muscles, his entire body shaking with the first waves of his orgasm. His release hit him so hard, if you hadn’t been holding on to him, he would have slipped and fell on the slippery shower floor.

His come was so hot as it repeatedly spurt out of him to the rhythm of you fucking your fingers against his prostate, the milky strands of it covering your hand, flicking up, going everywhere. Working him a little longer as his body rested back against yours, you nuzzled the scruffy wet feel of his hair against your face, then you gently pulled your fingers from the suction of his trembling hole.

You wanted nothing more than to feel Five in this way, surrendering all of himself to you because he'd done it completely willingly, but as soon as it was done, the painful disappointment of your reality and what you'd done cut through the words Lila had tried and failed to imprint on your brain. 

Forcingly spinning Five around, your eyes filled with a mirage of blissfully dancing colors. His own pupils, still blown dark with his lust, instantly went glassy, reflecting back eerily, the entire sclera glowing bright.

"Pick up that towel, get out and go find something to eat, and then get in your bed, and go to sleep. You have work in the morning,” you told him.

Waving a testing hand in front of his face, as if drugged, Five grinned back so stupidly that all you wanted to do was to kiss him silly, and that made the ache in your chest even worse. 

You slid the shower door open and repeated the order. “Go. Do what I said.”

Getting out, like the good little hypnotized time traveling assassin now made case worker for a bunch of demented dickheads, Five reached for a towel, tying it around his waist before he stepped out into the cold air of his apartment, hair still dripping beads of water down his back as he headed towards his kitchen.

Realizing you perhaps should have told him to dry off, and put some clothes on, rather than think on that mistake for even a second longer, you slammed the shower door closed, pulled down your pants, dropped your forehead against the tiles, quickly jerking yourself off with his name on your lips as you came.

Chapter Nine: I know Not What I Do, Only I do

As you laid in Five’s bed, a few feet away from where he slept so peacefully under your spell, you knew this couldn’t go on, and seeing him walking in the door now only made you feel that way all over again. It was crushing. Conflicting orders at war inside your head.

Looking around Five’s small apartment, you smiled again at how he’d cleaned it that morning. While quietly getting ready for his day, he’d made sure you didn’t have to deal with the dried puke mess on the floor, or with how he’d accidently pissed all over the toilet the night before. 

Coming home, Five looked so handsome and full of life, his new black suit clinging to him in all the right places. When he shut the door, your eyes met his for a second before he looked away. He was clearly uncomfortable, despite being forced to trust you being there in his private space. 

“I brought food,” he simply said, moving to the table to set down the brown bag he had carried in with him. “It’s just something I picked up, but I promise after work tomorrow I will go shopping for things to fill that empty refrigerator and make my dishes less worthless.”

He slipped off his suit jacket, placing it over the back of his chair, then sat down, taking out two containers filled with something that smelled so good it instantly made your mouth water. 

He smiled hopefully as he opened his dinner, gesturing for you to do the same.

You felt that pain in you chest again. Five was taking care of you. That was not something you had compelled him to do, but there he was, doing it anyway. 

As he started eating, you saw him looking over at the Commission’s file that was still laying on the table between you, every time you saw him do it, he would look away, nervously tapping his foot under the table. 

You didn’t care what it said. Five Hargreeves, the monster they’d made, the man that had killed so many people, and had taken you away from your life, all because an evil woman told him too, was not what that file said he was. 

After several bites of food, the thickness in your throat was too much. “Five, look at me.”

He did, as if you’d made him, only you hadn’t.

“Is it true what The Handler said about that diner…about me dying there if this hadn’t happened?” 

You watched him slowly swallow. “Yes,” he replied, again uncomfortable with this, but trying so hard not to show it.

Raising your fork again, you took a deep breath and nodded.

Silence resumed as you both ate.

When you were done, you could tell that Five didn’t know what to do with himself. When he had looked like the older man in the picture underneath the cover of that file, you could only assume that even then, he didn’t have much to cling to in this place, other than scheming to get back to his family. He’d done it too, only the poor bastard got himself stuck right back where he was before, only two days later. 

Leaning back as you pushed out your chair, you crossed your arms over your chest. You grinned. You couldn’t help it with him sitting over there, frowning as he ran his finger over the scratches etched into his tabletop. 

When he pulled his lips to the side, looking even more sulky, you let out a little chuckle.

“Something funny?” he coolly questioned, with such irritation souring his expression that your smile grew even bigger. Finally looking up, he glared at you through the messy pieces of hair dangling in front of his face

“No. I just like looking at you,” you honestly replied.

Flipping his head back, Five raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but you saw the smile pulling at his lips as his hair fell right back, making him all the more handsome but also annoying him all over again.

Drawing invisible pictures, he went back to jiggling his foot against the leg of the table.

“Are you bored, need help figuring out what to do with your night, other than studying your tabletop?” you teased.

To your surprise, Five suddenly disappeared, a rush of air hitting you when he reappeared less than a second later, standing right between your outstretched legs, one hand planted hard on the table next to yours. He lowered himself even closer, his eyes boring into you so hotly it felt like he was trying to light you on fire with them.

“What if I am bored? Are you going to play with me again?” he challenged.

You smirked as he rubbed your knee, the crotch of his pants already tented so big it was making it so hard for you to think of anything else other than playing with him again. Hormones still raging or not as the reason for it, Five’s dick was silently begging for attention and when he was ready to go, he was ready to go.

You spread your legs a little more. “I could play with you, and tire you out like I did last night, or since I am pretty comfortable right here after my long day of doing nothing, I could fill that spray bottle over there under your kitchen sink with water and squirt you in the face with it until you leave me alone.” 

“If you spray me, I will hump your leg and bite at you,” Five countered, his voice seductively sweet.

“It looks like we have a problem then,” you said as your eyes burned for him. “What are you going to do about it?” 

Five dropped to his knees between your legs. As he reached between your thighs, groping you, he got confirmation that he wasn't the only one getting hard. You bit back a moan and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I can’t say no if this is what you want, but I shouldn't do thhss-” 

“Quiet,” he whispered, pressing a finger to your lips, cutting you off as his breath purposefully ghosted against your ear. “I have wanted to do this all day.”

As Five stroked your cock through the frumpy gray dress pants you hand taken from the limited selection in his closet, he moved his lips along your cheek, coming to your mouth, where he kissed again, his slightly parted lips happily taking in the breathy heat of your gasps.

It was his first real kiss like this with someone real, and he was perfect, so soft, so delicately insistent.

Lust hitting your entire being, your eyes instinctually flamed brighter with need. Five kept going, assertively unzipping your pants, pulling your cock out, only breaking away from your mouth to look down, appraising. Your length was thick enough, but at the head, where you were slightly thinner, you flared out with just the right girth to stimulate some major damage.

"Five," you breathed and closed your eyes as he began to kiss you again, this time thrusting his tongue in, twirling it around with yours.

There was no question if this was wrong or right. No thoughts wasted on why you felt the way you did about him. 

When you reached down, cupping him through his dress pants, Five groaned and held the side of your face with his other hand, aggressively wrestling with your tongue, ramming his as far into your mouth as it would go.

Forcing your lips away from his, even as he tried to nibble like a puppy on your lower lip to keep his hold on you, you gave a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “Are you trying to fuck me, Five?” Pushing your ass into your chair, stomach flexing, your hips fucked into his hand, to fuck with him even more.

When Five didn’t answer, you knew why. His brain couldn’t form the right response, and that was because he didn’t know what to say or do all of a sudden, like you just asking that had shaken him out of his own self-induced super horny dying to have his dick played with trance. 

“I think it’s time for you to suck me off, sweetheart,” you mocked, and just like that, eyes glowing back, at the perfect height to bend over the length of dick in his face, Five did. 

Tentatively tasting you, his tongue slid around your glans, causing you to anxiously twitch under his extra gentle touch. Growing bolder again over your reaction, Five slid forward, grabbing your hips, aggressively pulling you to him, proving how strong he could be as he sucked the head of your cock between his silky lips like a kid sucking a lollie pop. 

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, shakily clutching the back of his head as he took as much of your erection into his mouth as he could. 

Even though he’d never done this before, Five was proving he wasn’t just very good at killing people and turning his own life into compete fucking chaos. Right now, the most important thing in his mind was your dick, and he was owning that hot, pre-ejaculate dripping mess too.

Slowly letting him work into it, the building ache between your legs felt as good as your cock gently rocking into his throat. Like before, you were trying so hard to be careful with Five. You had told him he was safe with you, that all he wanted was to be with you and you'd take care of him, but fuck he was taking really good care of you.

The heady smell of your crotch and salty taste of your cock as he licked you up and down, and your fingers needily gripping his hair had him so excited, he was trembling with excitement. The tension building to a point of no turning back, along with the ingrained need to take back control, you took his hair, firmly pulling his head back. His mouth came off your cock with a pop as he looked up at you like he might snarl at you he was so mad that you'd forced him to stop. “You are being such a good boy, and I love how you look with my dick in your mouth, but right now... Now I need you to jerk off while I cum down your throat,” you said as you laughed at him already trying to get your cock back in his mouth.

Letting him have it, as his mouth came back around you, he tore into his own pants. Ripping his zipper down, he pulled himself free, gripping his girth tight at the tip. When he started going at it, hard, the sight sent your eyes rolling back in your head, but you forced them to stay open, dizzily admiring how fucking amazing he looked jacking off his big dripping cock while he went doing down on you.

All you could do was enjoy every wet suckle and slicked squelching sound you were making together. Your cock was swelling and leaking even more with his valiant efforts and that only spurred him on even more.

Inside his mouth and inside his mind, you could feel how much Five wanted to taste your release, to swallow your gushing lust for him, letting it consume him, but before he could get you there, you pulled his head back again, frantically panting, and that only made Five look even more proud over what he’d been able to do to you. 

He gave you a sloppy smile and you felt like your heart might burst.

He wanted to drown in you, and you felt exactly the same about him.

You took his hand in yours. "What do you want, Five?” you asked, needing him say it.

“I want to give you everything,” he replied, his eyes still glowing as he meekly peered up at you.

You didn't know what to say to that and with it, the hand you were holding went slack as Five robotically waited for direction. You untangled your fingers from him and his hand fell next to his body.

You felt sick over this but you reached out anyway, brushing your fingers across his smoothly shaven cheek. “Five, you have to promise me that if I do something you don’t want, you will tell me. You have to tell me the truth, always.”

He said nothing.

“Do you understand!” you worriedly pushed.

“I understand. I will tell you if I don’t want something. Only the truth. I promise."

“Do you want your clothes off?”

“Yes.”

You started unbuttoning his waistcoat, your hands shaking as you pulled back the tailored black fabric from his thin waistline. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you whispered as he pushed his pants down the rest of the way, clumsily kicking out of them, then his shoes.

“I can’t stop thinking about how good it feels with you,” he said, struggling out of his dress shirt even before you had it all the way unbuttoned.

Taking him by his tie, you pulled his face to yours while giving his cock a little squeeze.

Falling into you, his cock leashing him to you, Five submissively whimpered. 

Your teeth flashed at him, just like your eyes. “Tell me, Five…do you want me to fuck you again? Or do you have something else in mind? You wanna play the daddy this time?”

“I-" His mouth opened a few times, then closed as if what you just said short circuited his brain."

I looked at him sternly. "I am waiting..."

"I want you to fuck me again," he quickly shot back, so fast and high pitched that you had to laugh at how rushed and eager he sounded. "You make it so easy for me," he furthered, sounding like he still thought that you required more convincing. "I don’t even need to think with you. That's what I want. I want to be yours again."

Hearing Five admit that only fueled the dark arousal burning in your gut. You had not instilled in him the message that he was yours. 

Fuck, Five was just... Fuck.

You smirked and shook your head, cupping his balls.

Five furrowed his brow, looking genuinely confused until you shuffled him back and pushed him down and on his bed. He was so hard, his long cock slapped against his torso on impact, and that was so fucking hot seeing that, that you could hardly take it.

If he did fuck you, you’d really be fucked.

Dropping your pants to the floor, throwing off another one of his borrowed undershirts, you wedged your body down over his. Instinctively, Five spread his legs making room for you. You hooked his legs around your hips, pulling him closer until he could feel the heat of your cock pressing against his.

Leaning forward, kissing him softly, your dicks slid together. Gripping them in your hand to make it feel even better, Five moaned into your mouth with appreciation.

Rubbing off against each other’s cocks, you started nipping at his neck, leading a hot trail of your tongue up to the shallow cave just under his jawline. 

“I need you inside of me…it feels so good. Please,” Five begged, trying to rut into you even faster.

Hearing him say that, you rubbed the rigid tip of your cocks against each other, a groan rumbling in your chest over what he'd said and the sensation of it. Bringing your other hand between his legs, the pads of your fingers started circling his hole. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you breathed against Five's long sexy neck as his legs gave out, flopping down onto the bed as if you’d just rendered him useless by tickling his asshole, but then, just as fast, he kicked into overdrive, moaning your name, the heels of his feet digging into the bed so he could frot against you faster.

"I can take it. I need you, please...fuck, please-" he growled, evidently not at all incapacitated.

Five gasped when you pushed down on him, forcefully tilting his hips, while pulling your fingers away from his ass. The hot tip of your cock slid between his legs, replacing your hand and he looked so cutely frozen with nervous anticipation, it was like he was stuck between terror and just not giving a damn about anything anymore, which was exactly what he'd said he wanted. He didn't want to think.

“Not yet,” you said, laughing, just before flipping him around like he weighed nothing more than blow-up fuck doll.

Like a man possessed, coming in behind him, your eyes trained on his ass crack, you gave him a good slap, making him hiss and bite at his pillow in retaliation. If that wasn’t indication enough that Five liked that, the way he curled in, his hand coming to his dick, fondling it just as angrily confirmed it.

“Hold still and be a good boy, and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll never be able to forget me,” you promised, laying another handprint on him as you smiled.

After pinching his ass, making him growl a little more, you trailed your hand down his spine, leaving it in place on the small of his back. You spread his hole open, revealing his tender pink skin you were dying to kiss. “You’re amazing, so perfect, Five,” you breathed, meaning every word of it, so scared of breaking him but also wanting to do nothing but break him.

Reaching for his bedside table where you'd seen that he had a bottle of lube hidden under his dirty magazines, you dug around, then finding what you needed, popped the cap, squirting some of the watery fluid in your hand. Swirling it around his rim had him flailing, so being even more generous, you massaged his taint too.

“Oh fuck, this feels so good,” Five cried, grinding back on your hand.

“I told you to stay still,” you said as you yanked him to the side of the bed, reaching between his legs, pulling his cock back, stretching it down against the bedspread so you could keep an eye on it. Once you had him where you wanted, you pinned Five’s crotch flat against the mattress, admiring the full bitch like view of him laid out for you like that.

You let your fingers linger along his ass crack again before drifting lower, groping his tightly hung balls. You gave a firm stroke along his shaft, finishing the torment by gently pinching and squeezing the flared strawberry shaped thickness of his tip, making him drizzle a hot trail of of pre-cum against the bed.

Probing your slicked finger at his ass, when you finally entered him, Five, whimpered and tried to grip his cock again, but you slapped his hand away.

“You bastard!” he screamed, rabidly humping the side of the bed as you worked his glistening pink asshole.

Twisting and turning your wrist, you smoothed your finger back and forth across his prostate, altering between that and jabbing it in and out of his asshole. Panting curses, Five spurted even more onto his bedspread with his rim pulsing against the base of your fingers.

He squirmed and tried to lift his ass when you pulled out, but then you sunk a second finger, scissoring into him, holding him in place with your other hand, not letting him up even after you’d brought in a third digit into the fun and he was crying out like you were killing him.

You looked down at the swell of your cockhead hanging over his ass. You knew this was going to be hard for him no matter what, but just the thought of your dick jamming in Five’s virgin asshole made your breath hitch and your heart beat even faster.

“Please,” he yelped as you pulled out of him, taking your time, lovingly tugging his long, heavy erection, covering it with the lube left on your hand.

After you spread a line of fresh lube on your cock, coating it until it shined and throbbed, rock hard. Ready, you tossed the bottle on the bed and grabbed Five’s hips, whipping him around. 

Yanking him close, his ass about off the bed, Five looked you right in the eye as you pressed your thick, swollen glans against his puckered flesh, giving it a few pushes to test the resistance. It was still too tight to accept you unless you forced it.

“Five, you don’t have to do this,” you said. “Tell me right now if there is anything inside you telling you this isn’t what you want. I’ll stop, I swear.”

Five was silent, totally still for a moment, then he whispered, “I want this, with you. Only you. Please. I want this more than anything.”

That wasn’t true. He wanted to save the world and his family more than anything, but something in you dying a little more for him anyway, you leaned over, lining your throbbing tip against his hole as you tenderly kissed his quivering lips, your tongue caressing his as you slid your meat against his opening.

“I only want you too,” you whispered back as you felt the pressure on your cock head increasing. Sinking into his ass, you pulled out almost right away and you felt the sweet feeling of his asshole trailing the thick head of your cock, sucking at it like it was begging for it to come back, but Five was trembling so hard it had scared you straight. Your brain doing the thinking for a fraction of a second, you equally shakily asked, “You, okay?”

Frantic, he nodded. “Burns,” he breathed, swallowing hard. "Feels, so- So good.”

Slow and careful, you pushed into him again, your head swimming from the sensation of his body clamping around you. 

An inch in and Five gasped and fisted at his bedspread.

“That's it, you’re doing so good. Just relax,” you whispered, increasing the force of your thrusts the more your cock entered him. “You’re so tight, so perfect, Five. Ffff-” you hissed between clenched teeth as you pulled back, watching his straining red rim follow your cock back as you pulled out, gripping and caressing every inch of you. 

“Thank you,” he moaned, saying it again and again, each time your cock reached a new part of him, the pain in his eyes there with the shine.

You couldn't take the sight of him hurting. “God, Five, fuck,” you gasped against his ear, your stomach sliding along his sweat covered body as you came down next to him again, hiding from the truth of it. "I am sorry," you cried back. "At your mercy, you jarred his body into the bed with your strong thrusts, starting to fully rock the fuck out of him. “No-matter wh-what, your mine, and I am yours,” you rhythmically grunted, as you rolled your hips into his ass, your cock sliding freer by the second as Five took the abuse, relaxing into it even faster because your power was making his body obey.

Your hands gripping his ass as you thrust your cock into his asshole, bucking your hips against his body, Five slurred back, “I’mm- Ya ya-yoursss.-” 

At this point, he was mumbling all sorts of sounds you couldn’t understand. He threw his head to the side, burying his face in the blankets as if it could ease the overwhelming sensations he was feeling. Saliva slipped from the corner of his mouth, and you wiped it away for him, wanting to love him but destroying him all the same.

He was breaking but seeing him that way was breaking you too.

"Look what they did to you, Five!" You gripped his jaw, making him look at you. "I'm the only one who gets to ruin you like this,” you said, lowering your voice. “Not them. Say it.”

“You’re the only one. Not them,” Five quietly cried, his head swaying as you violently pounded into him and his hips humped mindlessly, his asshole clenching down on your dick. 

“Don’t let them away with this,” you said, your mouth whispering at his throat, your voice so low with rage and your mind so gone that it only pulled Five deeper into your head and into this madness.

A sharp shock of pain shot through him as you cock bottomed out, but you held his wrists down to stop him from writhing or getting away. You kissed his brow, whispering your regrets again. “M sor-sorry, Five. So fucking sorry.”

His entire body shuddering, on the verge of climax, Five didn't know why you were saying that. Trapped between your bodies, Five’s cock was leaking all over him, but the friction he was getting wasn’t enough. He wanted more so much he was about to scream.

When you put your hand to his throat, the fire in your eyes as your fingers enclosed his windpipe would have been terrifying if not for how much he wanted to see it, and hear you ordering him to touch himself.

Obediently taking his cock in hand, Five quickly started beating off.

Plunging into him hard and fast, the back of his thighs smacked your pelvis. Over and over, you took him, harder and faster, until you were both delirious with pleasure.

His oxygen cut off, his body under your command, Five started to come.

"Five," you gasped, tears clouding your eyes as he let go of himself completely, pawing at his sheets with numb hands.

One second you wanted to escape what you'd done to him, then the next you knew you couldn't fathom it, and all you wanted was to keep him here like this as your prisoner for the rest of his life, and the abject horror of that was too much.

You locked your arms around his shoulders, bearing down as you hurtled in and out of his increasingly slack ass, relishing the wet squelches and reverberating smacks that accompanied every rapid thrust. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Five’s voice was strangled and frenzied, his repeated gasps, wet and dripping with desperation. 

You slammed into him, to the hilt, and didn’t pull out, deeply grinding your cock into his body so hard you could see the bulge of it pushing up in his stomach. 

You felt the spasm beneath you that rolled down Five’s spine and pulsed in his ass, making him wriggle and writhe against your crotch as spurts of cum burst from the tip of his abused cock. Then, having brought him to the brink everything got hotter and tighter when your cock erupted inside him.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you gripped Five even harder, even more relentlessly cruel. He thrashed as you spilled, ruthlessly filling him with your seed. 

He howled as your hips slammed into him one last time, a wall of pleasure coming undone that made him spill more cum too, his spent cock twitching as his balls emptied everything he had left.

For a couple of minutes, you were both still. Five’s apartment was silent except for the sounds of erratic breathing. You didn’t want to move, but if you didn’t, you might collapse.

Pulling out, his body spasmed from the loss. Where he’d felt so unbelievably full, the shock of your retreat brought tears to Five’s entranced eyes.

You crawled up next to him, the warmth of your body pressing next to his as you pulled his chin towards yours, leaving your thumb resting against his kiss swollen lips.

He shut his eyes, looking so beautiful.

You told him he was. You told him to look at you.

As he did, you could feel it that Five was aware he was hypnotized during all this. His mind was fuzzy, as if his head was filled with cotton, but you holding him felt cozy and warm and safe. It was like for the first time in his life, nothing bad could touch him. 

He wasn’t lying. This was what he wanted. He was happy and it felt so new to him that he didn't really understand the emotion other than he didn't want it to stop.

While listening to you speak as he watched the motion of your lips, Five felt like the world was operating in slow motion. He could see the glow if his eyes reflected back in the sadness of yours, but he still didn’t understand why you looked that way. All he wanted was to make you happy like he was, and he hated that you seemed like you weren’t.

What more could he give you? he wondered.

Your eyes misted over.

This wasn’t about that. This was about what you could give him.

“Listen very carefully, Five,” you whispered, so quietly there was no way the Commission’s spying mics could pick up what you were saying. “Tomorrow, get what you need to get out of here. When you have it. Go. You need to jump back to the exact point you left. Even if you can get your hands on a briefcase, you still need to jump like you did the last time. Go back to the exact same body you had before, change the math to make it happen. Do you understand?”

“But you can’t leave,” he said, looking so confused. His hand came back around your neck, his fingertips careful not to touch your fresh incision, but the point he was making was clear as the pain you felt over this.

“I found a way out. I will be with you. This is the way it has to be. Tell me you understand, and that you will do this for me.”

He said nothing. 

“You are doing this,” you insisted, the pools of your eyes lighting up with swirls of power he couldn’t escape. “Tell me that you understand what you are supposed to do. You need to take your Umbrella Academy uniform with you. Change into it if you can still get it on. No one else needs to know this happened to you. Say you’ll do this for me.”

“I’ll do this. I understand” 

With you, like he’d said, everything was easy. There were no doubts, no thinking, so his answer came out of him as free as he finally felt. 

You’d said you would be with him. That was exactly what Five wanted, in his mind and his heart.

He smiled, and you smiled back.

Unable to look at him looking back at you with that look of softness in his glowing eyes, you pulled him flush with your body, the curve of his warm backside pressed to you in a false promise of safety. You brushed your face against the nape of his neck, tenderly applying kisses to his cooling skin as you whispered a continuous chant of how much he meant to you, of how perfect he was.

Lulled to sleep by your words of love, you listened to Five’s soft breaths. As he became lost, deep in his dreams, you keeping his nightmares at bay, you shut your eyes, but like the fiery presence of your power that remained ignited for him, as if clinging to him as much as you were with your arms, your tears couldn't put the fire out as it filled your heart.

Chapter 10: What Defines Us

The next day, just like the one before, Five dressed and got ready for work, but before he left, he bent over, placing a feather light kiss on your forehead, then he tucked you in, ensuring you wouldn't get cold without him there cuddling you.

You felt him doing it, but you kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Biting in your smile, you thought of how sweet he was, how as soon as you were asleep, and you could no longer dominate him with your power, he’d reflexively reversed your positions, making you into his little spoon. 

What you wouldn’t give to know what it was like to be with Five, in a real way, for even one more day, with him getting to just be him, and you just be you. 

What could have been was the tragedy adding to all the rest of the things plaguing your heart with regret.

Hours later, your mind still linked with his through your hypnotic direction, you felt it when Five snuck past the tube operations room, following Dot. 

He was so focused, so dead set on doing what you said. 

Taking a deep breath, doing the only thing left you could do to help him, buying him some time, you stepped out the door of his apartment, your knees hitting the pavement as the sensor in your neck activated, alerting the Commission's agents you were trying to get away. 

“The Handler knows that Five is up to something,” Dot nervously said, handing the order he had seen her typing to Gloria. “Send this to Hazel and Cha-Cha immediately.”

As soon as Dot was gone, in a flash, Five was behind Goria, thumping her in the back of the head with his pistol.

The Handler hatefully looked down at you, flailing and foaming at the mouth. Her agents dragged you back over the threshold of Five’s apartment at the same time he blinked himself into an empty office he'd staked out earlier. He down, opening the tube. “Reassignment: Protect Harold Jenkins,” he muttered, his eyes wide in recognition of what this meant. 

This was what he’d come for.

Heart racing, looking at the door, listening for any sign they were out there, he quickly got to typing new orders for The Commission’s moronic mask wearing assassins. 

The old typewriter clicked, and the paper whirled as he pulled the new orders out.

Quickly stripped and wriggled back into his way too small academy uniform, with the words, Terminate Hazel for Immediate Extraction, and Terminate Cha-Cha for Immediate Extraction on the office memorandums in his hand, Five blinked back to the tube room. 

“Didn’t you like the suit I bought you?” The Handler said, wandering in, narrowing her eyes at him after he’d sent the second tube. “And…you know that’s not how we do things here. Where’s Gloria?”

Five turned, hands in his shorts pockets as he shrugged. His fly wouldn't even go up because the wool covering his ass was so stretched so tight, but he didn't give a shit that he looked like Luther about to burst out of his clothes. “Oh, I couldn't find her anywhere,” he replied, just as the woman in question groaned on the floor behind her desk. 

The Handler shook her head at him. “You’re a great disappointment to me. You and that other promising face I so generously gave you to keep you company. You can’t change what’s to come, Five. I truly find it so odd that you can’t shed this fantasy. You’re a first-rate pragmatist. You belong here with us.”

“I don’t belong anywhere thanks to you. You made me a killer!” he snapped.

“You were always a killer. I just pointed you in a direction.”

Blinking, Five disappeared just before the bullet she fired at him flew through his chest. 

Reappearing behind the shelves, The Handler kept stalking him, her free hand reaching in her pocket. “With the click of this switch I have right here in my hand...” 

She paused. 

Laying on the floor as you looked up at the sun shining in from the window next to Five's bed, the pain hit you again. Before everything went black, all you saw was the happiness in Five's sweet eyes as he looked back at you, his soft lips smiling with nothing but hope.

The Handler let up on the switch, her hand coming back out of her pocket, joining the other on her gun trained at Five. “He’s gone,” she continued, and that is on you, not me. Just another death on your hands.”

A few final twitches from the final jolts of her attack, rocked you limp body. The light in your eyes swirled to a stop. The connection to you severing like a knife being stabbed through his heart, enraged, Five blinked, right in front of The Handler, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, his teeth bared. 

“We both know that you have a limit,” she sang, at him, her gun pointed at his face. “I saved you from a lifetime of being alone. You owe me.”

She pulled the trigger.

Click, click, click.

Five grinned as she tried over and over to kill him but had nothing left in her chamber to do it.

“You didn’t save me from a lifetime alone,” he said, “He did! And I do owe a debt.”

He blinked, landing behind her, pulling the pin on his grenade.

“But it’s not to you,” he finished, wiggling the piece of metal in her face before he bowled it along the floor under her feet.

Blinking again, his fingers shaking so badly he almost couldn't dial in the date he needed on the briefcase, the numbers Five had to use to get back home flew through his head, but all he wanted to do was go back to stop this from happening to you, but your voice in his head lingered, and he couldn't refuse it. He had to listen to you, gone or not.

You had told him this was how it had to be. You told him you’d be there with him.

You’d lied. But you’d done it for him, to save him.

He realized that now and many other things and boy was clarity a bitch he wanted to beat the piss out of.

His teeth on metal as he pulled the pin, Five took off running, turning as the explosion rocked the briefcase closet, blowing out the glass windows. 

In a fiery blaze, Five was gone. Landing on top of the bar in the living room, back at the Umbrella Academy, pain racked his small body. He’d been hit somewhere but he couldn't tell where. It didn’t matter. You weren’t there, and more and more with each minute, the feeling of you inside him was abandoning him, and that hurt more than anything could ever hurt.

He was so fucking mad!

And fuck did he need that coffee Allsion was holding. 

He had the briefcase. He had time in his hands, he quickly rationalized, doing what he always had to do, which was survive, and cling to hope with every fiber of his being.

Someday, he’d get back to you. This wasn't over. Like he hissed at his siblings as they looked at him like he was somehow more nuts then than he was when he’d appeared out of pulsing blue vortex, falling on the ground in the courtyard during Ben’s funeral, Who cares if dad messed us up? Are we gonna let that define us? No.

Now Five was more hell bent than ever on seeing this thing through.

He was going to fix this, and not just for them. Even if you weren’t in his head anymore, he wanted to do it for you.

Someday he’d go back and save you the way you’d just saved him. He knew what it felt like to look into your eyes, floating in a bliss that was a gift only you could give.

The warmth of his blood seeping into his rumbled dress shirt, chucking the empty coffee cup behind him, Five looked at his family who were standing there looking dumbfounded as ever.

He grinned crazily. 

One day, he didn’t know when, but he would know what it was like to be loved by you again. 

You were his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's it, my lovies. Please don't hate me for what I just did. You never know, maybe our new boy isn't really gone. And Five of anyone can get him back either way. He just needs figure out how and do a few more things first.

I hope you liked this. I know I did. I really liked this hypnotic young man with Five, and I am so happy I got the original request from my friend with the idea for the pairing. Developing him a little was so fun and I really struggled with not making this into so much more. I could see so much happening here but I fast tracked the shit out of it so it didn't end up like one of my other novel length Five stories. 😂

Link to all my other Tumblr Story and art posts

Link to my Five Centric Master List

Link to visit me direct on A03m

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 8 (Final)

A Red, Red Rose

Summary: A bombshell is dropped and you look to the future. Words: 2k TWs: mention of miscarriage

So I've lost interest in this fic hence why we have a rushed wrap up because I didn't just want to abandon it :') All parts - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

“We gonna do this forever then Johnny?”

It was a form of torture Simon was sure, them having lunch together once a week every week and making small talk. He missed his best friend. He missed being able to say something outrageous and knowing Johnny would call him a sick bastard and then immediately try to outdo him.

“Eat lunch?” Johnny replied a little miserably, shuffling pasta about his plate.

“Johnny…”

“What dae ye want me tae say LT?”

“Not your LT anymore, retired remember? And Price told me about your promotion.”

Captain John MacTavish did have a nice ring to it, and Soap had more than earned the stripes. In another world he’d have grinned at Ghost, smug as anything and making some comment about being able to order him around now. But instead he frowned and Simon hated it. 

“Talk to me for Christ sake!”

“I cannae! Ye want me tae tell ye how much I miss your wife? How it kills me that she’ll never forgive me and that she’s right about it?”

“Johnny…”

“Or were ye hoping tae hear that I dinnae even regret Las Almas? It’s ruined everything, but I’ve loved you since I broke my fingers on that stupid bloody mask and I didnae even realise until we nearly fucking died! Ignored it even when I did, had 9 years tae think about how either way I was breaking my own heart because it decided it loved two different people!”

Fuck. He was crying. Johnny was crying. And Simon was caught between wanting to kiss him or kill him. He had never expected to be loved back was the thing. He did something unbearably selfish on the understanding it was all one sided, that the fuck was just the adrenaline from thinking they were going to die and they’d forget it ever happened. And then everything had went to shit and he had fallen in love with Johnny’s widow. He’d already lost one person he loved because he was too scared to admit it, he just couldn’t do it again,  selfish asshole that he was. 

“You should regret it. You… we hurt her. Hurt her so bad that we might lose her.”

“Aye. I deserve tae lose her though, never deserved tae have her in the first place anyway. I just caught you in the crossfire of my sins.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Simon said with full derision.

This has gone on long enough. So what? Everyone was just supposed to be miserable forever? They were supposed to just lay down and take it? Johnny looked at him, hurt and confused. 

“I watched you fight every break up. You fought tooth and fucking nail to make it work. When you fucked up you made it up to her. When she fucked up you forgave her. And what? Now that Johnny is dead? Either you still love her and are willing to fight to get her back, or any part of the man I loved died in Russia.”

“You’ve lost yer fucking mind Si, she’s your wife!”

Simon stood, determined.

“And our wife needs to remember who she belongs to and who belongs to her.”

As he started marching off Johnny near choked and scrambled to follow.

“Ye cannae be serious! Leave her be Si! Ye cannae just barge in and-and-”

“And tell her she’ll try forgive us because we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to her? That we can start right now by showing her how well you can follow orders and how well I can give them for her benefit? I bloody well can and I’m bloody well going to. Either you’re with me or you can stay and mope.”

“...aye sir.”

–

Once upon a time Joey being at a sleepover was exciting, it meant some much needed alone time with your husband. Now though? The house felt cold, empty. You considered asking Gaz and Price’s partner if they’d come round to hang out, but it felt so messy when they were just as much Simon’s friend as they were yours. It would somehow make you miss him more. 

Everytime he was at the house briefly and you made polite conversation you wanted to cry. You had a few times, only after he was gone of course. That big fucking lummox. You wanted to strangle him, but then again that wasn’t exactly new. And you wanted rhubarb and sugar. Oh you could murder some rhubarb dipped in sugar like your parents used to give you as a kid. 

The door went just as you finished pouring a large glass of wine. Simon stood looking like he sometimes did when you were about to get absolutely ruined in bed and you swore your heart nearly stopped. Johnny was by his side, pupils blown with a blush crawling up his neck as if he somehow knew exactly what images just popped into your mind. Oh. Oh you suddenly wanted them so badly it hurt. 

And damn them for knowing you so well, for being able to fucking tell. Simon’s lips were on yours as he walked into the house, you being led backwards. You were clawing at his shirt as he squeezed your ass until you bumped into the kitchen island and realised how insane this was, pulling away to try find Johnny. He had followed, was swallowing thickly as Simon started to kiss and nip a path down your neck. This was insane. This was certifiably mental. You could not… have a threesome? Have a threesome with your husband and your husband who had fucked each other ten years ago on a mission before one faked his damn death. 

“W-what are you doing? We can’t…” you mumbled, trying to get your head on straight since currently your brain seemed to reside between your legs.

“Tell me what you need princess. Want me on my knees begging against your pussy? Want Johnny to fly you to Hawaii and keep you in the lap of luxury for a month? Want us to be here every single day in the garden announcing to the neighbours that we deserve a fucking whipping for how badly we fucked everything up with the gorgeous mother of our child?”

Christ almighty. So much for Simon being the unemotional and ineloquent one. You couldn’t handle this. You couldn’t handle how much you wanted to just give in. He made it sound so easy, like you could have them both, like they would give you whatever you wanted just to stay by your side despite what they’d done. He was going to his knees in front of you.

“Rhubarb!”

The room froze for a moment as Simon hit the ground with his knees and just stared at you.

“...is that, uh, a safeword?” Johnny asked, seemingly surprised out of the slack jawed, dazed state he seemed to have been in. 

“No. I mean I… rhubarb. You asked what I needed. Rhubarb and sugar, but we have sugar in the cupboard so… just the rhubarb.”

“...ok, rhubarb. We can do rhubarb” Simon said after a moment, taking it in his stride as he snuck a peck to your stomach where his head currently was and then stood. 

If they just left and went to the shops maybe you could… you didn’t know. Maybe you could hurriedly touch yourself to get rid of the ache between your legs and then neck your wine to get rid of the one in your chest. Simon turned and nodded to Johnny and took a few steps, so you picked up the glass of wine to calm yourself down only for Johnny to pluck it out of your hands.

“Unless you’ve suddenly developed a taste for red wine I’d appreciate that back” you snapped at him.

“And since you’ve suddenly developed a taste for rhubarb I’m naw giving it tae ye.”

“MacTavish” Simon scolded, sure Johnny was about to ruin what he was hoping was some reconciliation here.

“That’s not…” you started before you went pale. 

“How ye been feeling recently hen?”

Oh no. Not now. You just assumed you felt sick because of the stress. But then the take away food had seemed so off despite you usually loving it. You kept having to throw up. You were lethargic. And now you needed rhubarb and sugar, something you had only craved twice in your adult life, the most recent being over a decade ago. The last time you were pregnant. 

“What’s going on?” Simon asked, not liking at all how your face just fell as he strode back to you. “What did you do Johnny? It’s ok sweetheart, I’m sorry we just showed up, seemed like a good idea at the time. Just missed you so much.”

The universe had a sick sense of humour. Over a year of trying for a baby with this man. 18 fucking months. And you get pregnant right before your other husband comes back from the dead, the one it turns out your current husband has slept with behind your back? This could not be happening, but all the signs were there. When had you last had a period? You hadn’t even noticed that you were late with everything going on. 

You tried to do the maths in your head. It had been a few months since Johnny had come back, so you were at the very least that far along. 8 weeks. You had miscarried at 10. Maybe you were further along, maybe you were past the worst of the danger. God you prayed you were past the worst of the danger. 

“Si, gie her some room would ye? We’re right here, if ye want us tae be. It’s up to you, you dinnae have tae…” Johnny said, struggling to get out the words.

There was no thought in your mind that you would get rid of this baby, but the fact that he was putting that option out there when he himself had always been so desperate for a big family was something you appreciated more than you could say. Goddamnit, he still loved you. 9 years away and he still bloody loved you. Would still do whatever it took for you to be happy. Even if in that case this meant not having another baby.

How strange that you thought of this baby as his. How strange that you just as strongly thought of it as Simon’s. If the past few months had shown you anything it was that you could look after a child between the three of you, so it wasn’t like they had to be with you to do it. Even if you’d like them to be. Despite it all, you’d really fucking like them to be.

“Princess?”

You took a deep breath and smiled softly at Simon who was looking increasingly alarmed. You caressed his face and it felt like relief to touch him. 

“Maybe we can go a trip to the doctor on the way for the rhubarb Casper. Think we might be pregnant.”

–

A very healthy baby girl with an incredibly healthy set of lungs. You sang to her, love like A Red, Red Rose for your little Rose. You bawled your eyes out when Joey refused to turn down his hearing aids even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs because that was his baby sister and he would never not want to hear her. It was a good thing you could all sign with the way she drowned you all out, even Johnny as clumsy as his hands were with it had dedicated himself to learning since he had got home. 

You were fairly certain your little Rose was making Price broody with Gaz and their partner finding their grumpy old man losing his mind over a chubby baby adorable. Although there was a good chance Price wasn’t making any babies with how you had planted your foot in his groin when he finally came out of hiding. 

You were still figuring things out, but right now? Right now you were happy. You had two perfect children by two imperfect husbands. It was up in the air what your family was going to look like in the future. Did you want to forgive them? Even if you did, would you be friends and co-parents or something more?

That you hadn’t quite decided yet. But you were determined that whatever the future held for you, it was going to be a future full of love and laughter.

[pantheresssy]

Spending Nights (Abby Anderson/ Reader)

Hello!

This is part 2 of ‘casual’! You can find part 1 in this masterlist! It took me so much time to write this but i did it, im rlly sorry, studying is making my creativity go away. Enjoy!!!

Synopsis: Your friendship with Ellie becomes stronger as you both get to know each other better. From the other side, Abby wasn’t dealing with this too well.

warnings: marijuana use (els), non graphic smut, too much abby and not much of els, angst angst, getting into toxic!abby.

“It smells like shit,”

Blowing the smoke on the air and, for consequence on your face, Ellie looked at you with a smirk. Her eyes were blurred and couldn’t stay in the same place for too long, in a trance with the sensations of marijuana. “But it makes me so fu-cki-ng good. Try.”

You pushed her hand away from your face and twisted your nose, feeling that the smell would make you sick and stick to your hair and clothes. You were in her dorms, with the notebook where she writes her songs open on your lap. Somewhere in the middle of your reading, you discovered a few more things she wrote. Small poetry’s. Most of them were sad, about unrequited loves, death, sadness of abandonment and the loss of a parental love. They were tragically tragic, but still beautiful.

Ellie looked over your shoulder, following your reading. Smiling when you turned your page to see the sweetest song you had ever come close to. She was a real talent, just like you had imagined when you first meet her. “I’ll write one for you.”

“If it’s as good as this one, I’ll say please.” She made a face and leaned back on her seat, taking the marijuana into her mouth.

Ellie blowed and talked at the same time. “This is the worst I’ve written since I started.”

You dismissed her words, outraged by what she had said. When you told her it was the ‘best one she had so far’ she looked a bit offended and gave you a full list of why it was her worst composition. Ellie explained to you all of her creative work and, by the end, you thought you knew more about songs than about your own classes. It was interesting seeing how her eyes shone and her voice became more happy. You could see that she really loved doing what she did.

When you went back to your doorms, not long after, you did with a smile. She really was a great friend, person, and writer. It was curious for you how she gad opened up about what she liked so quickly after knowing you for barely a whole week. But it was good.

The rest of your day, you enjoyed with one of your many books. Laying in bed with it on your chest, being dragged by the words. That’s why, when a knock sounded on your door, you opened it without checking who it was. Thinking it could be Dina — (or Ellie) — you never looked away from the page you were reading, only finding out who truly was when she spoke for the first time.

“Can we talk?” Abby said. At that moment, you regretted not asking who it was first. It’s been days since you last saw her, and you would be laying to yourself if you say that this wasn’t broking your heart even more, but you tried to ignore.

Holding your breath, you swallowed hard before answering: “No. I… I’m not in the mood for talking right now.” Deep down you wanted it, so when you kept talking, you wanted to slap yourself. “Maybe later.”

Abby stepped closer when you make a move to close the door, quickly trying to stop you. And it worked. “I saw you at the party.” There it comes. “Who is she?”

You raised an eyebrow. She had no right to be there questioning you, as if she deserved something. “I’m surprised you went, you never liked those things.” A small pause, “But I guess I should’ve had imagined, you have changed so much in a short time.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and you knew she was looking for what to say next. “Owen invited me”, And oh… oh.

Of course he did. You felt silly, a completely idiot. She never went with you when you asked, always making sure you knew how much she hated going to these things. But with him, that part never really mattered. “I’m glad he managed to change your mind.”

“He didn’t,” She said quickly. “I hated going there. You know this, Y/n. I… I hated even more when I saw you with her.”

An ironic laugh escaped you and you looked at the ground already feeling the tears filling your waterline, obstructing your vision. Abby was the proudest person you had ever seen and, when she said that, you realized that she was there not because she missed you, or because she wanted to apologize for everything she did, but for some jealousy of seeing you with someone other than her. You had to mourn her for the time she thought it was necessary, waiting until she wanted to come and talk to you correctly. Like at that moment.

It was a cycle that she had created and you couldn’t leave. On other occasions the same had happened, but not like that, with a fight so big as that one. You two have never been more than a few hours without talking to each other, and it’s been a long time.

You started poking your thumb, an attempt to keep everything you felt inside you through the soft pain. “You don’t own me any explanations.”

Abby denied. “I do, yes.“

“Look…” You started, letting transpire in your voice and face how tired you were of going around so many times, only to ended up in the same place. “We had the same conversation that day, you said what you wanted to say, what you felt-“

She interrupted you. “I didn’t.”

“So i am asking you to leave.”

As the last word came out of your mouth, you saw her posture fall. She looked sad, worried and younger, totally vulnerable and open for you. And you hated that you felt yourself softening. “Abby,”

She reached out for you and took your hand. You felt the urge to pull off her grip, but gave up in the last second. “Give me one chance.”

Swallowing, you watched as her fingers went to the inner part of your pulse, and you squeezed your eyebrows together. She was close, so close and God, it was good to feel her there. Your walls and anger were down as soon as she stepped even further after seeing your reaction, her lips touching yours.

And you did no move to push her.

Abby was fully inside of your room and closed the door with her feet while her hands gripped your wrist. You joined your lips more to hers, sighing heavily when you realized that you would not be able to let her out, even if you fought with all your strength against your will. Your arms wrapped around her neck and you two walked blindly to your bed, you sitting on the end while she was still standing in front of you, her back bent the kiss wouldn’t end. And you moaned, a sound that came from the back of your throat that seemed so desperate, wanting. But Abby smiled in enjoyment — (and proud).

Your shirt quickly came out of your body, then the rest of your clothes. She pulled you to the middle of the bed and started to kiss, lick and grope each part of you she could reach. Your noises only got louder, this time being followed by hers. And when her fingers went inside you, touching that spongy place that made you see stars, you felt your body shake with goosebumps. You couldn’t deny it anymore, you loved her and loved the way she made you feel.

You were lost on the fog of your orgasm, your mouth was open, trying to catch air for your lungs. She fell at your side on the bed, one of her arms supporting her head while the other supported yours. With the corner of your eye, you could see the smile she held and turned for her, placing your hand on her chest. You could regret it later, being so close to her, so open, letting yourself go so easily. But at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else but being with her like that for the rest of your days. That’s why, when the words came out of your mouth, you didn’t stop them.

“I missed you,”

She hummed, taking your chin and pulling you into a light kiss. “Me too.” She said. “It was a torture, being away from you and seeing you with… Ellis… Ellie?”

You licked your lips, feeling her taste. “Ellie. Dina introduced us at that party. She’s great. She showed me the songs she writes today.”

Abby’s face fell into something darker, heavier. Jealousy shone back on her and you sank your nails on her skin, trying to pull her back. You knew that if you allowed it, that moment would turn into a discussion just like the other day or worse. She was territorialist and you hated it, especially after having fought with you because of your jealousy and insecurities. “I don’t like her.”

“Do you like anyone?” You asked, fun shining in your eyes and voice.

She kissed you one, two, three times. “You.” With her statement, you smiled big. Abby stroked your cheek, whispering her next words: “Just… can you stay away from her? For me, please.”

Just like that, your expression twisted in a grimace. “That’s why you’re here? To fuck me and try to say with who you want me to hangout with?” You got up and started to put your clothes back on. “Get out, Anderson.”

She faced you. “She clearly wants you, Y/n.” You laughed indignantly. “I won’t let her fuck with you.”

“Like you did that day? She won’t do it, Abby. And you know why? Because Ellie doesn’t hide what she feel, she doesn’t yell and curse when a problem pops up.” Your chest gasped with your words said in one breath. “Leave, now. You’ve stayed too much already.”

You pointed to the door, lowering your head and listening to her wear her clothes. Abby walked up to you and stopped in front of you. “I fucking tried to do this better. You can’t blame me now.”

How much you hated that situation, to be dragged by those words. The pain you felt before was nothing compared to the one you felt at that moment. “That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Making me feel bad so you can go over me?”

“I fucking like you, Y/n! That’s why I don’t want you with her.” Her finger wrapped around a lock of your hair and gave a slight pull.

You walked away and rubbed your hands on your face. “And you show it by trying to put someone I like as a friend away? Just go, Abby.”

“I ain’t giving up on you.”

She left with one last look and you closed the door as soon as she passed through the threshold, sniffling when the tears fell and your body was shaken with strong hiccups. You felt nothing but stupid. You knew that at some point everything would go down, but you didn’t knew it would be so quick, — not after everything.

You really thought that things would settled down, after just a few minutes and a moment with her at the bed. You thought you would go back to spending nights with her, smiling and kissing. Abby could make a fool out of you so easily. Sometimes you think you might hate her.

And this is the end!

I really wish I could write more than 2k but at some point I just start to repeat words/expressions and I have a tick with this. Hope you had enjoyed this ride and be patient with me for part 3 plss it will come out! Thank you for all of your comments!! As always, I’m sorry for any mistake.

taglist: @pinkpanther-44, @elsmissingfingers, @sofi4v13, @bready101, @mattxxamryli.

[sweetcheeksschemmenti]

Cat and Mouse

NSFW, 18+ only!

Melissa Schemmenti x f!OC

Warnings/tags: Porn, porn with little plot, orgasm denial, mommy kink, spanking,

WC: 6.3K

After months of Melissa toying with me and pushing me around, I had enough and told her so… so she punished me.

Notes: I never write smut, ever, but here we are! It is shameless Schemmenti porn. Please enjoy. 🫡

I started volunteering as Melissa’s aide a few days a week in August when I took a break from full time teaching, and after many months of playing into her games and being ridiculed for the smallest things, I was over it. It all came to a head one Friday after school when she asked me to stay to help with lesson plans, only for her to spend the entire time chastising me. “Honestly," she said with disgust, "How did you even get your teaching degree? They just hand that shit out these days? Like Oprah. You get a teaching degree, you get a teaching degree, everybody and their damn mother gets a teaching degree!"

My eyes went wide at the insult, but I refused to let her get the best of me, “Oh fuck off, Schemmenti.” I stood and found something in the corner to busy myself with, too tired to fight back like she wanted me to.

Melissa's eyes narrowed even further as she observed me attempting to distract myself. She set her cup of coffee down and leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms.

“You know, kid,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice thicker than molasses, “If I wanted your lip, I’d get it off my zipper.” She smirked, relishing in the power imbalance she had over me.

I rolled my eyes and spat back at her, “Ha! That’s a damn joke. You wouldn’t be caught dead with a woman between your legs! You’re too afraid of what anyone might think. You play it cool, but inside… you’re just a scared little girl.”

Melissa let out a sharp laugh, enjoying the exchange far too much. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she pushed off from the chair, standing to her full height, now almost as tall as me. She crossed the room slowly and closed the classroom door, locking it, her heels clicking ominously as she made her way over to me. "Oh, my dear little mouse," she purred, "don't you worry your pretty little head about what happens between my legs." She gave me a wink that could only be described as predatory, a smirk still tugging at her lips as she added, “That’s way above your pay grade, hon.”

A shiver ran down my spine, I could feel a familiar pit in my stomach forming. I masked it by rolling my eyes and adjusting my stance. “They don’t pay me, Melissa.”

“And you’re worth every penny.” Her wicked grin grew.

“W-what’s your problem? Huh?” I snapped at her and turned my entire body to look at her. “What the hell did I do to piss you off so bad? All I do is come in, do what you ask, and go home.” I throw my hands up in frustration.

Melissa’s smirk widened even more as she noticed the slight stutter in my voice. Her demeanor softened slightly, but the hint of mockery remained in her voice. "Oh, sweetie," she said, a note of feigned pity lacing her words, "you're so naive, it's almost endearing." She paused, considering me for a moment before continuing, "The problem isn’t what you’ve done. It’s who you are- spineless, weak, and completely lacking a backbone- very similar to Janine. You’re basically a doormat."

The anger and hurt that had been brewing within for months finally exploded as I raised my hand and smacked Melissa across the face. “You will NOT treat me like this any longer. You understand? You are not my superior, we are supposed to be a team and all you do is treat me like dog shit. Just because I am soft does not mean that I’m weak, Melissa. That’s obviously something you’ve yet to learn…”

Melissa's head snapped to the side as my hand made contact with her cheek, a bright red handprint forming instantly. The smirk was gone from her face, replaced with a look of disbelief and outrage. She recovered quickly, though, slowly turning her face back to glare at me with fire in her eyes. Stepping closer, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Watch it, mouse. Who do you think you are, laying a hand on me like that? Don't think I won't knock you on your ass, newbie."

I stepped dangerously closer to her, anger radiating off of both of us. With that anger fueling my every move, Melissa braced herself for what might come. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give an inch despite the fury in my eyes.

"Go ahead," she taunted, her words sharp and biting. "Hit me again. See what happens."

I looked her over for a moment, noting that damned smirk that graced her lips. God, I just wanted to slap that look off her face again. Instead, I grabbed her face roughly and smashed my lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss. I wrapped a leg around one of her own, wanting to be as close as possible.

The redhead gasped in surprise, her mouth opening slightly as my lips crashed against hers. However, the gasps quickly turned into a low moan, the sudden passion catching her off guard. She stumbled back, the surprise of her reaction causing her to lose her footing for a moment. Her arms wrapped around my body, pulling me close as she returned the kiss with just as much hungry passion. One of her hands slipped downwards, grabbing a fistful of my ass and squeezing firmly as she lost herself in the moment. I reveled in the feeling of Melissas’s hand on my ass, my lips parting. She used the moment to dart her tongue into my mouth. One of my hands weaved itself into her hair to hold her in place while the other squeezed her breast as I thumbed over her already erect nipple over her thin bra.

At the feeling of my hand grabbing her breast, Melissa let out a sharp gasp, her body arching into my touch. She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes glazed with desire, and licked her lips as she panted heavily. "Careful, mouse," she warned, her voice gravelly. "You're playing with fire." Despite the warning, she made no effort to stop me, in fact she leaned forward, pressing her body against mine, her hand moved from my ass to my hip and pulled me impossibly closer.

“I can take the heat, kitten,” I hissed as I leaned in and sucked on the spot just above her collar bone, biting slightly.

At the nick of my teeth against her skin, Melissa let out a strangled moan. Her fingers dug into my hips at the pet name, and her head tilted, giving me better access to her neck as she surrendered to my touch.

"Don’t think this changes anything," she managed to gasp out, her voice catching slightly as she tried to maintain her usual bravado.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I whispered the words between panting and kissing the skin I had just bruised. Melissa's eyelids fluttered closed as I continued on my southward path, a shiver running through her body as my breath ghosted over her skin. She arched her back again, pressing her breasts against me, the tension between us growing thicker by the second.

"Cocky little thing, aren't you?" She managed to gasp, her voice raspy with arousal. "I’ll have to put you in your place, hon."

I pulled away from her grip completely and met her eyes. “Do it. I dare you, Schemmenti.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened, the challenge hanging heavy in the air between us. She loved a good challenge, and my defiant smile only fueled her competitive nature. Without warning, her hands found my wrists, swiftly pinning me against the wall, the sound of a soft thump echoed in the empty classroom, her chest heaving slightly with the effort. "You want me to put you in your place, hon?" She murmured in a low, sinful tone. "Be careful what you wish for."

I yelped at the force. She was so close and I became instantly drunk off of her perfume. “Fuck. Me,” I growled.

Melissa let out a low, guttural moan at my words, the sound went straight to the pit of her stomach, and it took all her strength to maintain her control.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as her body pins me to the wall, her hips rocking slightly against my own. "Do you know what happens to naughty girls who make demands?" She whispered, her voice laced with desire. Her lips found my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to my exposed cleavage. I shook my head, unable to form words.

She grinned against my skin, as she continued to explore my sensitive spots. Her teeth graze against my earlobe, nibbling gently before she whispered, "They get punished, hon. And you've been nothing but naughty this whole time, haven’t you, little mouse?"

I couldn’t suppress the groan that erupted from within. “What are you gonna do, kitten? Spank me?”

She laughs a deep, throaty sound against your neck. Her lips continue their path back down to the crook of my shoulder, where she nips harder than before, her teeth making sure to leave a mark behind. "You’re so eager for it, aren’t you?" She whispered, her hand snaking up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. "You want me to put you over my knee, don’t you, little mouse?" My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as I drank in the moment and nodded in her hand.

Her hand tightened its grip on my chin, forcing my eyes back open, making sure I’m looking at her as she speaks. "Then say it." She commanded, her voice firm, but her eyes softened slightly. "Tell me you want me to punish you, baby."

I looked deep into her eyes, knowing just how I was going to unravel the woman. “I want you to punish me. I want you to bend me over your knee and spank me… mommy.”

Melissa’s lips parted in a soft gasp as the word ‘mommy’ spilled from my lips, her eyes momentarily filled with surprise as she felt a familiar wetness grow between her thighs. The look was gone within an instant, replaced by a heated look of hunger. "Oh, you’re playing dirty, aren’t you, baby?" She murmured, her voice taking on a lower, huskier tone. "You know just how to get me all worked up, don’t you, little mouse?"

I grinned wickedly at her as she dragged me over to her desk before she sat down. Melissa’s hands gripped my hips, positioning me over her lap and lifting my skirt, her eyes taking in the exposed skin of my ass. She could already feel a heat pooling in her belly as she looked at me, completely at her mercy. “You look so pretty like this, little mouse,” she purred, her hands caressing my skin. “I hope you know you’re in for a good, thorough spanking.”

I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. I rubbed my thighs, searching for friction as I waited for the spanking “Mmmmhm. I’ve been so bad for you, mommy,” I hummed.

Melissa’s eyes flicked down, noticing the way my thighs subtly rubbed together. She bit her lower lip, watching me like a predatory cat. "That’s right, baby. You’ve been a very bad girl," she murmured, her hand leaving my hip to trail upwards, tracing the curve of my spine. "And bad girls get spanked."

She brought her hand up and spanked my ass twice, gauging my reaction.

I let out a small gasp, my body jolting a bit on her lap as Melissa’s spank landed on my skin. The surprise quickly gave way to a low moan as I got used to the sting. Melissa watched my reaction closely, noting how I flinched and squirmed on her lap as the initial shock wore off. Her hand came down again, striking your my cheek, a bit harder this time. I rubbed my thighs together with each new smack, getting off on the punishment alone. “Mmm, fuck,” I breathed.

As the spanking continued, Melissa picked up on the growing desperation in my movements. Her hand connected with my ass again, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the empty classroom. "You really like this, don’t you, little mouse?" She moaned, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "You getting off on being punished by mommy?"

Her voice gave me butterflies. I’d never touched or been touched by Melissa before this, but it was my new favorite thing. “I do, you make me so wet, spanking me soooo good.”

Melissa’s hand came down hard on my ass once more, the firm smack sending a fresh wave of pleasure shuddering through my body. She let out a sharp exhale, watching as my body responds to her every touch. She growled again, her voice a low, sultry rumble, “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you, naughty little thing?”.

Melissa’s hand glided over my stinging skin, her touch a mix of gentle and firm. Her fingers ghosted over the curves of my ass, a light graze that’s hardly a touch. "I think you’ve had enough spanking for now," she murmured, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "But that doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet, mouse." She prodded me off of her lap and I followed direction.

I rose from her lap, my body slightly shaky from the combination of the spanking and the thrill of submitting to her. Melissa grinned, enjoying the effect she had on me. "Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her eyes dark with hunger. I again listened to instruction and got on my knees.

Melissa watched me as I sank to the floors, my submission making her heart race. She moved so that she was only inches from me, her body almost towering over me. Her fingers found my chin, tilting my head up to look at her.

"That’s better," she purred, her other hand tangling in my hair, her fingers grasping the strands and tugging gently. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

I looked up at her as she pulled my hair, eyes rolling back in my head slightly with the pleasure, moaning a little too loud. Melissa let out a low, sultry laugh as she watched the effect her actions on me. The sound of my moaning pleasure was music to her ears, fueling the fire burning deep inside her.

"Look at you, all desperate and needy," she whispered, her fingers wrapping tighter in my hair as she uses the strands to tilt my head back even further. "You love it, don’t you? Love being controlled by me."

I panted harder, absolute putty in her hands, “Yes mommy, I love being your little mouse, the way you play with me makes me feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened even further, feral hunger taking over her composure. She used her grip on my hair to pull my head further back, exposing the expanse of your neck to her.

"Oh, I know you do, little mouse," she replied, her voice taking on a low, dangerous tone. "You’re practically dripping for me, aren’t you?" Her free hand suddenly reached out, gripping my throat, her fingers wrapped just tight enough to create a delicious pressure.

My eyes rolled back again as I leaned into her hand on my throat.

Melissa watched me closely, admiring how willing and pliable I was in her hands. The sound of my moans, the arch of my body as I leaned into her grasp, it only made her want to tease and taunt me further. "You really are a naughty thing," she whispered, her fingers applying a slight squeeze to my throat. "So desperate, just aching for my touch."

I reached forward and unbuttoned her pants then grabbed ahold of her hips and pulled her forward. Face to face with her crotch, I found her pants zipper and grabbed it with my teeth, pulling it down. “God I want you so bad, kitten.”

Melissa let out a gasp as I unbuttoned her pants, her body moving forward almost involuntarily. She looked down, her eyes watching as you pull the zipper down with your teeth, the sight sending a shiver up her spine. "Aren’t we eager," she comments, her voice slightly breathless. Her fingers once again tangle in your hair, guiding you forward as she speaks. "Go ahead then, baby. Have a taste."

I pulled her underwear down along with her pants in one tug. “Mmmm, I see the carpet matched the drapes,” I giggled as I took in the sight of her bare in front of me.

Melissa let out a low chuckle as she stepped out of her clothing, eyes never leaving me for a second. "Of course it does, little mouse," she laughed, her fingers still holding your hair in a firm grip. "And you’re just about to get a very close up look, aren’t you, hon?"

I smiled up at her, hunger in my eyes. I caressed her inner thigh before venturing further to her core. I dipped my fingers into her folds and moaned at what I found. “Oh mommy, you’re so wet for me,” I breathed in a sultry tone.

Melissa moaned aloud, the touch causing her to let out a shuddering breath. And when I moved my fingers between her folds, the sensation combined with my moan caused her to grip tighter on my hair, pulling my face closer to where she needed me most.

"Mmm, baby, you have no idea just how worked up you’ve made me," she whispered, her voice thick with want.

“God, you’re so hot, kitten,” I groaned. I took the direction to lean forward, and with a flat tongue I licked the sweetness that built up from out little game.

Melissa’s grip tightened further on my hair, her knuckles going white as I begin tease her entrance and begin circling her clit with a pointed tongue. Her hips jerked forward towards my mouth instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "God, you’re such a good little mouse," she moaned, her breathing already going ragged. "Don’t you dare stop, baby."

I hummed against her, “You taste so good, mommy. So sweet for me.”

My tongue’s contact with her sensitive spot caused a full-body shudder to wrack her frame. A guttural, animalistic moan escaped her throat as she rocked her hips forward, desperate for more of my touch. "Oh, baby, you’re doing so well. Feels so good," she gasped, her breathing becoming more laboured with each passing moment. "Keep going, keep going, please…"

I smiled at her words. Her little red curls tickled my nose as I sucked and licked harder and faster, looking up at her through lashes to watch her face. Melissa’s head fell back as I increased my pace, her grip on my hair becoming almost painfully tight. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensations washed over her, the combination of my tongue and lips driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Oh God, darling, don’t stop, don’t stop," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. Her hips rolled forward, seeking more of my touch, desperate to reach the peak. "Just like that… oh just like that…"

I continued to work on her clit, but made eye contact and wiggled two fingers at her in a come hither motion, a questioning look in my eye. She nodded her want and guided my free hand to her entrance. I covered my fingers in her juices once more and entered her with full force.

Her body tensed as you entered her, the unexpected force making her gasp harshly. Her chest heaved as she gripped a new handful of my hair, her teeth biting her lower lip as she adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"Oh God, that’s it, baby. Mmmm fill mommy up," she moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. "Keep going, oh don’t you dare stop now…". Melissa let out another low moan as I continued to pump my fingers within her, her grip on my hair growing tighter by the second. Her breath came in ragged breaths, her body trembling with pleasure.

"God, yes, darling," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "You feel so good… you make me feel so good."

Her body became taut as a bowstring, every muscle tense as she edged closer and closer to release, holding my face to her center as she rides the waves of pleasure. "Oh God, I’m so close, baby," she said in a desperate whisper. "Keep going, just a little more… oh just a little more…"

With her words of encouragement, I flicked my tongue faster over her clit and found just the right spot inside to make her come undone. Her legs began to shake and I knew she was ready. “Come for me, kitten.”

Her body tensed even further as I fucked her faster, harder, her muscles coiled as tight as a spring. And then, with a loud, guttural moan, she finally succumbed to the pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. "Oh God… oh God… yes, that’s it baby," she gasped, her eyes closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh… oh… yes, oh yes… oh yes, yes, yessss…" I caught her as she lost the ability to stand upright, gently bringing her down to my level. “Fuck, Mel, that was hot,” I muttered between panting.

She collapses into my arms, her body boneless and trembling. She let out a low, throaty laugh as she leaned against me, trying to catch her breath.

"That… that was incredible, hon" she managed between gasps from the aftershocks. "You are too damn good at that." I kissed her temple gently, the first gentle act since the whole thing started.

Melissa leaned further into my touch, her body still trembling slightly as she came down from the high of her release. Her eyes fluttered shut as my lips brushed her temple, a small smile on her lips. "I don’t remember the last time I’ve come that hard," she said, her voice still a bit shaky. "You really know how to push my buttons, don’t ya, kid?"

I winked at her and kissed her lips. “Just as you know how to push mine… I’m still dripping for you, mommy…”

Melissa let out a sultry chuckle as she kissed me back. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting herself on my lips. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as she pressed her body against mine. "Mmhm. I know you are, little mouse," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. "And I intend to take care of that problem."

I moaned as her tongue darted into my mouth again. Melissa’s grip on me tightened as she adjusted her position over me. She broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting our lips as she grinned down at me. "Oh, darling, there are so many things I could do to you," she purred, her hand slowly trailing down my body. "But for now, I want to see you undone, just like I was."

Her hands on my body felt like fire and I wanted more. I tore my shirt off and pulled down my skirt. “I’m not far from it, kitten.” Melissa’s eyes roamed over my body as I removed my clothes, her gaze dark with hunger. She took a moment to admire the sight of my body, before she reached up to caress my bare skin with her hands.

"God, you’re just as gorgeous as I dreamed you would be," she hummed, her voice filled with awe. Her fingers traced the lines of my curves, her touch gentle and yet possessive.

I cocked my head and gave her a confused smile. “You’ve dreamed about me? About this? I thought you hated me,” I half whined.

Melissa chuckled, her fingers continuing their journey across my skin. There was a hint of amusement in her tone as she answered me. "Oh hon, I don’t hate you. I never hated you," she said, her voice soft. "It’s more like you pushed all my buttons and got under my skin. But let me tell you, there’s a fine line between rage and desire. Seems like you found it." Melissa captured my neck in a love bite, caressing my breast with one hand and my ass with the other. She moaned against my skin as she tasted me, her tongue gliding over the now-marked flesh. My entire body shivered with want and she grinned against my neck as she felt your reaction, her grip on you strong and possessive. My head fell back as I gave myself completely over to her.

Melissa’s tongue followed the line of my neck down to my collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. She pulled me closer, her body pressed completely against mine as her hands continued to caress and explore. "You’re doing so well, baby girl," she mumbled against my skin, her voice thick. "Just relax." Melissa maneuvered her thigh between my legs and I immediately rolled my hips down.

The redhead let out a moan as my wetness dripped down onto her thigh, her own body responding to the action. Her hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as she watched me move against her. "Oh, mouse, you’re so responsive," she purred, her voice low with desire. "You’re already begging for it, aren’t you?" I bit my lip and nodded sharply

“I need you mommy, I want you inside me,” I growled, sending electric waves down her spine.

Her eyes flashed with desire as I bit admitted my need. She grinned wickedly as she responded, her hands running up and down my back.

"Such an impatient little mouse," she murmured. "But who is mommy to deny you what you want? Just be careful what you wish for, baby." Melissa snaked her hand down to my core and thumbed over my aching clit with ease.

I hissed in pleasure at the contact if been waiting for, “Yessssss mmmm…”

She watched my face as she touched me, a smug grin on her lips as she saw the effect she had on me. "Does that feel good, little mouse?" she purred, her voice lower than usual. "You like it when mommy takes care of you?"

I bucked my hips further into her hand, leaving her palm wet, again unable to form words. Her hand remained firmly against me, her thumb continuing to tease my sensitive spot. She smirked as she felt the evidence of my desire on her palm, and she increased the pressure of her touch. "You’re so eager for me, baby," she husked, her voice thick with arousal. "I can feel how much you need this. How badly you want me to take care of you, right here, right now."

I groan loud, needing more, “Inside, please.” Melissa’s smirk widened at my plea, satisfaction coursing through. She pulled me closer, her lips just a breath away from my own.

"What do you want inside, baby?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “I need to hear you say it."

I looked into her eyes, hungry for release. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers until you make me come.”

A low groan escaped Melissa at my words, her body responding to my need. Her hand slid lower, her fingers teasing at my entrance. She captured my face with her other hand, her grip firm as she forced me to meet her gaze. "You’re being so good for me, little mouse." Melissa’s fingers at my entrance drove me wild. I’d been on the edge of an orgasm since the first kiss, I was so sensitive and ready for her. I moaned and bucked, writhing under her touch. “Please please please, I need y-” I gasped as she filled me with two fingers. “F-f-fuck I’m already so close, you feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes nearly went black with lust, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she took in the sight of me. She ran the fingers of her other hand down my cheek, her touch gentler now. "Oh no, hon. You don’t get to come just yet," she husked, her voice low and raspy. "Not until I say so. So be a good little mouse and hold on for me."

I nodded, holding in my release as she inserted a third and final finger, filling me up completely. “OH! Ohhhh yessss yes yes!”

She watched my face, taking in every expression and whimper. Her tone still commanding, yet also soothing she says, "That’s it, little mouse, hold it for me," her breath warm against my skin. "Just a bit longer. You’re being so good for me. I know you can do this." She pumped her fingers at just the right speed, hitting that spot just right.

“Mel, I’m so c-close,” I whined, my face scrunching in focus.

Melissa kept her pace and angle, hitting the spot repeatedly as she watched me grow closer and closer to the edge. Her face flushed, and her own breath now came in pants as she worked me towards release. "Just hold on a little longer, baby," she whispered. "You’re doing so well. You feel so tight and hot around my fingers, so good. Just a few more moments, and then I’ll let you come. Just a few more moments, I promise."

Her words drove me crazy, the heat building up was almost too much to bear. I leaned down and bit her shoulder, using it as a distraction to keep me from going over the edge without permission. “Mmmmm-mommy please,” I begged as I rode her fingers.

Her breath hitched as I bit down on her shoulder, the sting of pain adding to her arousal. "Not yet, little mouse," she growled, her voice gruff and commanding. "You’re being such a good girl, but you have to wait for my permission. Just a little longer. Almost there." Melissa felt my body tensing, sensing just how close I was to release.

My eyes rolled back and I almost went limp in her arms. Melissa watched as I grew more boneless, my body riding her fingers more on instinct than anything else. "That’s it, baby girl, ride them just like that," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being so good for me. But not yet. Not yet. Just hold on a little while longer."

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh mommy, please let me come, I can’t hold it anymore,” I cried as her thumb met my clit again.

Melissa looked up at my face, her own expression filled with need and awe at the control I exerted over my body. She knew she’d pushed me to the limit. She grinned, her eyes roaming over my body. "You’ve been such a good little mouse," she said huskily . "You’ve held on for so long. You’re so good. So desperate. I think you’ve earned permission now, don’t you?" All I could do was gasp and moan in response.

She knew I’d held on as long as I could, and she wasn’t going to make me wait anymore. "Come for me, baby girl," she ordered, her voice firm. "You’ve earned it, mouse. Let go. Now."

My orgasm washed over me with an intensity I’d never experienced before, and it felt even better knowing Melissa Schemmenti got me there. “OHHH fuck! Oh yes! Yes yes yessss! Mmmm oh God, Melissa!” I trembled and shook as I collapsed in her arms, completely out of breath.

Melissa watched as I let go and held me close as I came down, her eyes wide with awe at the intensity of my release. The feel of me trembling and shaking against her brought a smug grin to her face, her own arousal ramping up again at the sight of my pleasure. "That’s my good little mouse," she cooed, placing gentle kisses on my cheek and in my hair. "You came so hard for me, I’m so proud of you."

“Good God, Melissa,” I said between pants, still coming down from my high, “holy shit.”

Melissa held me tight as you rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm, her arms wrapped around me as I come back down to earth. She chuckled softly as she listened to my shaky breaths and shaky voice. "That good, huh?" she teased, her voice smug. "I guess that means you enjoyed yourself."

I lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her through half lidded eyes, “I don’t think I can ever fuck anyone else now.”

Melissa smiled at my words, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hands moved across my back as she watched me catch my breath. "Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that," she husked, a smug grin on her lips. "After all, I don’t like sharing my toys."

My eyes closed as I smiled at her remark. “Kiss me?”

Melissa chuckled at my request, her lips curving up at the corners. She cupped my face with one hand and drew me closer, her eyes locking with my own as she leaned in. "Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and sultry. And then her lips were on mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a sharp contrast to the entirety of our escapade.

I glanced at the clock as our lips parted. “Think we should get outta here? I’m sure Mr. Johnson’s been ready to lock up for a while now.”

Melissa hums, her eyes still closed as she savored the sweetness of the kiss. When she finally opened them, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a soft chuckle. "We should probably head out. But we're definitely resuming this back at my place."

There was a flash of hunger in both of our eyes and I licked my lips. “Oh yeah? Then let’s get goin’.” I tossed her her pants and got myself dressed, straightening my hair and smeared makeup in the reflection of the window.

Melissa laughed as she caught her pants and quickly pulled them on. She watched me tidy myself up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She could tell I was eager to get back to her place, and she felt the same way. "Can’t believe you’re still trying to make yourself presentable after what we just did," she teased.

I blushed a deep red. “Not for you, just in case we happen upon Mr. Johnson on the way out!” I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her again.

Melissa smiled against my lips, enjoying the feeling of being in my arms. She wrapped her own arms around me, pulling me close as she kissed me deeply. "You’re adorable," she mumbled when the kiss ended, her eyes flicking over to the door. "And smart. Let’s get out of here before Mr. Johnson catches us."

I giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed her wrist, “C’mon, kitten! We have things to do.”

The redhead followed me out into the hallway, her hand in mine. The nickname "kitten" made her heart flutter, and she matched my pace easily as we headed towards the car."You're in a rush, aren't you?" She teased as she glanced at me, a sly smile on her lips. "Can't wait to get me home and all alone, huh?"

I bit my lip and gave her a mischievous grin. “God Mel, I’m already dying for round two.” I winked at her and we rounded the corner to see Mr. Johnson standing there with his mop in hand, staring us down.

Melissa's eyes went wide as we came face to face with Mr. Johnson. As he stood there it became increasingly obvious he knew what happened in that classroom, and he was not mincing words. "Out a little late tonight, aren't we ladies?" he asked gruffly, his eyes moving from you to Melissa and back again. Both of our faces matched Melissa’s hair in that moment.

“$50 and you tell no one, Mr. J…” I offered, hoping to save us from some embarrassment in the teachers lounge.

Mr. Johnson considered it for a moment, his expression stern. Then he let out a small laugh and extended his hand. "$50 and my lips are sealed," he said. "But this better not become a regular occurrence, you hear me?"

I took my wallet out and handed him a crisp $50 bill, then mock saluted him. “Yes sir!”

Mr. Johnson pocketed the bribe money and nodded at me in acknowledgement. He turned his gaze to Melissa, his expression still stern. "You’re a terrible influence, Schemmenti," he huffed. "That poor girl didn’t stand a chance."

Mr. Johnson watched as Melissa tried to suppress her laugh, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. He shook his head and pointed his mop in her direction. "You’re a menace," he grumbled. "Now get outta here before I change my mind about keeping quiet."

I pulled Melissa’s arm and started walking very quickly to the exit. “Thanks, Mr. J! See ya Monday!” We didn’t stop until we got to Melissa’s car.

“The whole school is gonna know, aren’t they,” I asked as I buckled into the passenger seat.

Melissa cackled, her face still red with embarrassment. "Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Mr. Johnson couldn’t resist the bribe money, but he’s definitely the biggest gossip at Abbott. They’ll probably know by breakfast tomorrow, and if not then by Monday morning guaranteed.” She settled into her seat and started the car as she buckled in. I gave her a look of disbelief.

“You coulda told me and saved me $50! You so owe me, Schemmenti!” I smacked her arm and then placed my hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly.

“Definitely thinking of ways I can make it up to you…,” Her pupils dilated as she took my hand in hers. My head fell back in another laugh.

“Then step on it, Jeeves!”

[romanoffsbish]

I’m a Barbie Girl

Scarlett Johansson x F!R

Scarlett & you reach new heights in your relationship after an interesting, boozy conversation about the Barbie movie. (Literally saw these photos of Scar and I just went with the Barbie inspo)

WC: 1,422

Scarlett spoke with conviction besides you about the strong social implications made in the movie you two had just finished seeing.

Barbie—Starring Margot Robbie, Directed by Greta Gerwig, and adored by countless women.

You'd tried to listen to your girlfriend, to pay attention to the very real topic at hand, but the movie theater cocktail—because that's a thing now—had actually gotten to you. If your lover wasn't so enamored by the movie, she would've smugly teased you for being such a lightweight.

——

It was only as she shifted to face you after putting the car in park that she began to see.

"What did you think of the movie?" She'd asked, only to regret ever opening her mouth.

"It was very interesting Scarly," you sung, "But there's just something really bothering me."

Scarlett dropped her hand to your thigh in a comforting gesture and chuckled, "Yeah?"

She'd naively hoped it was about the realistic patriarchal system we live under, but it wasn't.

You nodded and narrowed your eyes to insinuate just how perturbed you were. "There's a massive plot hole in the script!"

Scarlett hummed, nodding her head for you to continue as she tried to suppress her growing smirk so as to not upset or distract you further.

"Yeah! The casting directors are idiots!" You seethed, hints of a bitter strawberry wafted beneath her nose and she cringed at just how intense the smell of alcohol was. She wondered how they could legally sell that strong of booze.

"How could they claim to be able to see when they didn't even cast you in it, it's an outrage! You could've been business barbie, with that short, sexy side swooped hair of yours wearing a grey pinstriped suit holding a briefcase."

"That sounds like Mafia barbie," she teased, and you pouted. "I'm serious Scarlett Ingrid Johansson! You are meant to be a Barbie!"

"I think all the ladies did a wonderful job my love, plus my schedule was busy anyways, and I am content with being your personal barbie."

"No silly, nobody owns anybody in Barbieland! You could be nurse barbie, and I'll be beach so that you could resuscitate me with your lips."

Scarlett took advantage of your suggestion and shamelessly pecked your lips and you beamed, "Exactly! See, you're perfect for the role."

"That's because those lips were made for me," the actress leaned in again, holding the kiss for much longer and bringing a sensuality to the moment as she cherished the taste of you. As she pulled away with a heavy sigh, and wide smile she felt content with the moment. The way you brought so much joy and love to her life was such a beautiful thing. You entered her life just as she'd sworn love off and reminded her just why she'd been a hopeless romantic.

"I'd probably be trash barbie," you said over a sniffle and Scarlett blinked rapidly trying to figure out when you'd started crying. She cursed herself for not noticing the aura shift. "You'd be so out of my league Scar," you were on the verge of sobbing now so the blonde got out of the vehicle and quickly got you out of your seat and pulled you into her chest.

"Baby no, you'd be priceless barbie, yeah, with a heart of pure gold, this gorgeous physique, stunning eyes and the key to my very heart."

You pulled back with eyes that glistened with tears beneath the moonlight, and a pout that made your girlfriend nearly melt into a puddle. Then you whined, "So I am Kenough for you then Scarly?" and she nearly lost it at just how serious, and downright pitiful your tone was.

"You're more than Kenough for me baby," she replied softly, forgoing her own dignity as she repeated the absolutely absurd play on words.

Scarlett held her hands on your hips and gently guided you in the house with the idea that she should get you a sobering glass of water. "Am I cellulite barbie?" Scarlett rolled her eyes as she sat you onto the couch. "Everyone is my love."

You hummed thoughtfully, and leaned back into the cushions as a wave of exhaustion pulsed throughout your body. You yawned, "I could be the Humble Servant Barbie to your Goddess. Do whatever you need and more."

Scarlett barked a raspy laugh, then suddenly her body was straddling yours making you gasp affectedly. Your naughty hands went to roam, but the blonde curbed your intentions as she lifted a cup to your face and you gulped it down as you eyed her knowing smirk curiously.

"That's our most accurate pairing thus far." You smiled, and looked to her with so much adoration in your eyes that she couldn't stop herself from drowning in the warmth of you.

There was no one else for her, she'd known that for awhile now, but this moment was clarifying in a way it had no business being. Scarlett decidedly clung to the moment though, her body suddenly leaned over yours and pulled a hidden box from the corner table. Her lips quickly pressed into yours again for a courage boost, and to shield your curious hazy eyes.

Why wait right?

"What about, you're Bridezilla Barbie, and I'm Whatever She Wants is Fine Barbie?" You looked at her in shock, eyes blinking slowly as you fought the exhaustion off long enough to register what she meant. The blur of something sparkling telling you this was a real moment.

"Scarlett, I am too drunk for you to prank me."

The blonde starlet frowned, and without a yes she slid the diamond on your finger, then she brought your hand to her lips to kiss over it. "I'm not pranking you baby, I'm dead serious."

You squealed so loud her ears rang, then you launched upwards startling her. You shocked her, because even in your hazy stupor you managed to flip your positions and press her into the couch. Scarlett's beam matched yours as she looked up at you, "Is that a yes then?"

You exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, "It's an of course you beautiful idiot! What fool do you take me for to say no to a lifetime with you?" Scarlett released a sigh, her smile trembled softly giving way to her insecurity, and you leaned down to kiss away all of her lingering fears of rejection, and to give her that yes.

"I'll marry you right now, on this very couch," you teased, "It doesn't matter when, or how, but do know I'm irrevocably yours Scarlett."

"All mine," she reciprocated your words, her hands gripped your hips tighter, and the both of you spent the next half hour lost in a steamy lip lock that only ended due to exhaustion.

"Let's get cleaned up and go to bed baby," she nudged your shoulder, you begrudgingly left the comfort of her neck, pulling back with a pout that she loudly giggled at. "Come now, I want to properly cuddle with my fiancé!"

Scarlett's heart warmed at the sight of your growing smile. A simple title change had you radiating with this untempered joy, she couldn't wait to see the reaction she'll get on the day it's finally swapped out for wife.

Scarlett once again guided your teetering form, she took you straight to the bathroom, and you patiently followed instructions as she used her brands skin care night time products on the both of you. Then she ushered you off to bed, and slipped in right behind you once all the doors were locked and lights turned off.

"Marriage is in support of the patriarchal nonsense Scar," you murmured over a yawn while pressing back into her. "Which is rude, but like, the idea of being your wife is dreamy."

Scarlett grunted softly as you moved again to roll onto your back and peer up at her, it was clear she was beyond exhausted now. Yet even with her eyes closed she smiled down at you. "We don't have to tell the government baby, I just want to celebrate our love with friends and family, and be able to forever call you my wife."

"I can't wait," you whispered dreamily, and your fiancé watched with a tired, amused gaze as you slipped off to slumber with a smile.

"Goodness me, you're just so precious baby," she said in a teasing tone as she pecked your parted lips. "Forever mine, and never again to question your beauty, or place in my world."

——

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC Prompt: He’s Gone, I’m Next

The post had an image that was blurred for gore. Upon clicking on it to reveal it, however, the viewer would see a child, mutilated, vivisected, and left in a field to rot when there were no more organs to take.

The caption was as follows:

“As unbelievable as it sounds, this was legal. They could’ve done even worse, though I don’t know how much worse you can get, and it still would be legal. He was alive and awake for all of this. They only discarded him when they finally removed his heart and he died.

Why, you ask? Well, his parents were scientists studying a compound. Nothing illegal, and only dangerous when handled improperly. But they studied it his whole life. With such prolonged exposure to it from a young age, he eventually had enough of it in his system that he pinged on the sensors of the organization that did this to him. Once they realized the source of the contamination was his parents, they scanned them and took them too. I haven’t seen their bodies yet, but I can only imagine that they’re already in the same state. And again, it’s perfectly legal. Because anyone who’s been exposed to this substance for a long time can be experimented on and destroyed and is legally non-sentient and non-sapient. This obviously wasn’t true. Just ask anyone who knew him. He was a normal kid with a normal life. He didn’t deserve this.

I’m his older sister. The only surviving member of my family. And they’re coming for me next.”

Below the caption was a link to the anti-ecto acts so that people could read the law for themself to see that it was legal.

The account was registered to Jazz Fenton. Some quick googling found Jazz Fenton of Amity park and her brother and parents. Danny Fenton’s death report, as well as Jack and Maddie Fenton’s, who had been found dead in the exact same way an hour after the post had gone out, were front page news in Amity Park. The other big news was that their local town hero had gone missing.

The information immediately went to the Justice League the second Oracle read the post and dug up the intel. They raced to do something about it. Some people began tackling the anti-ecto acts, trying to get them destroyed. There was plenty of public outrage to support their demise, since the post had gone viral. The rest of the heroes split up to find and protect Jazz.

They found her eventually, on the run. There was a ghost protecting her, so luckily she was safer than they’d feared. But why is this ghost only shooting at some JL members and not others when they converged on Superman’s position to try to talk to her? Why does this ghost only let some of them approach the girl?

Superman and Green Arrow, of all people, can get close to her. So they’re about to find out.

Or, Danny gets killed in human form, his parents sharing his fate moments later. They hadn’t done anything other than be ecto contaminated. Jazz, who’d been out with friends, had thankfully saw the vans around her house and gotten away safely with the help of Sam and Tucker, both of whom wanted to stay behind to save Danny instead of escaping with her, since they were in much less danger. Jazz wanted to too, but they told her they couldn’t protect her and save him. She agreed to let them do their thing, only for the three of them to stumble across Danny’s body on their way out of town. He’d been captured only an hour ago. Jazz took a photo and posted the post hours later, once she was safe. Sam and Tucker turned back around to go back to Amity and burn the GIW to the ground. Danny, now a full ghost, shows up as Phantom a bit later and starts protecting Jazz. But he’s not fully in his right mind - he was tortured and killed in the span of an hour - and he shoots at anyone who approaches Jazz. That is, unless he can sense that they’re ecto-contaminated, which any JL members who’ve died and resurrected are. After all, no one would sell out their own kind like that. …Right? Okay, so Phantom’s still on edge. But what part of his mind he’s currently in position of is solely focused on protecting his sister. She’ll make it out. She has to. (Jazz, meanwhile, is trying to heal Phantom’s mind as much as she can.)

[coochiequeens]

Another sex offender TIM released into the public.........and given a laptop

Daughter's fury as paedophile father who abused and shared images of her with other sick perverts online before changing gender in prison is quietly released (...and given a laptop by an offender's charity)

By ROSS SLATER

PUBLISHED: 10:47 EDT, 16 July 2023 | UPDATED: 10:49 EDT, 16 July 2023

A paedophile who changed gender while in prison for sexually abusing her own daughter as a child and sending explicit photos of her to perverts online has been quietly released back into the community - and given a laptop by a do-gooding charity.

Claire Fox, 61, who was previously known as Clive Bundy, a father of six, served just seven years of a 15-year jail sentence, before being settled into a tiny market town on the Welsh borders.

Fox, who wears a black wig and floral dresses told neighbours, who knew nothing of her sordid past, that she was an electrician from Bangor as they helped her get settled into her new surroundings and helped her furnish her flat.

Fox's release from prison has appalled her daughter Ceri-Lee Galvin, who bravely waived her right to anonymity, having been abused by her father for nine years from the age of eight.

Revealing her astonishment, Ceri-Lee, 24, told MailOnline: 'My father is not a woman and I refuse to recognise him as such. He changed his gender in prison to make his life there easier.

But now he is out and already up to his usual tricks – conning everyone he meets. 

'The fact he is now dressed as a woman makes him more dangerous as young girls are his thing and he has never shown any remorse.

'My father is a highly manipulative man who has attended no sexual offender rehabilitation programmes, shown no remorse for what he has done and openly admits finding children attractive.

'There have been no meetings I'm aware of to tell local schools about his presence, he has no tag and no curfew. He has just been put into this community and given all he could wish for – food, furniture, a home and a laptop.'

Ceri-Lee, now a student paramedic, added: 'I am in no way transphobic and I feel incredibly sorry for people who genuinely need to transition. They face stigma and worse because of cases like this.

'But it should just not be an option for those convicted of sexual offences against children to suddenly say that they want to be a woman.

'This only arose at the end of 2021 when he was due to be moved to an open prison but then had a fight with a fellow prisoner that was serious enough to stop the move.

'That is when he went for the gender change – when he was almost 60, having been a macho man all his life and having had eight children and having never mentioned gender dysphoria before.

'Now he is being indulged by everyone. The prison service gave him make-up and women's clothes and now a charity for the armed forces have provided him with so much stuff when all he did was a short stint in the Territorial Army in his 20s.

He has conned them. He was never a soldier. The whole thing is outrageous.'

Fox arrived in a sheltered accommodation block for older people in a tiny town at the start of June.

She was given new furniture, a television, printer, washing machine, crockery and a laptop by the armed forces charity SSAFA because she had once been in the Territorial Army.

Fox's neighbour Lyn Robinson, 74, said: 'My first impression was that this person was very cheerful and amenable, assuring all us older people that they'd be no trouble. They seemed very confident despite the outlandish appearance.

'I thought she might find it difficult fitting in so I really took care of her. I gave her clothes and even lent her £70, which is a lot for a pensioner.

'I took her to the food bank at the Baptist Church where she was given loads of stuff including vouchers for a butcher in town and for a coffee shop.

'And we went to a concert at St Edward's Church where I introduced her to the vicar. I had no idea of her history.

Fox's decision to change gender before being released from prison, provoked a storm of protest when it was revealed in April.

She chose the same name as gender-critical campaigner and media pundit Claire Fox, now sitting in the House of Lords as Baroness Fox of Buckley.

Campaign groups fear that by changing their gender, sex offenders can effectively whitewash their past and could avoid detection under the Home Office's Disclosure and Barring Service, set up to protect children from abusers.

DBS uses official paperwork such as a passport or driving licence to carry out their checks, both of which can prove difficult to check after choosing a new name and gender.

The potential loophole is provided by the Gender Recognition Act (2004), which created a 'sensitive applications route' for trans people.

Ceri-Lee added: 'The victim liaison officer told me the only reason I was being informed about the name and gender change was because he had given permission for this to happen.

'It's allowing him to say that Clive Bundy never existed, that my abuse never existed and it is clearly a danger to children which is why I decided to speak out.' 

Fox is not the first sex offender to change gender while in prison

A rapist who carried out sexual attacks as a man named Adam Graham in 2016 and 2019 sparked a heated debate earlier this year after changing gender and name to Isla Bryson while waiting to stand trial at the High Court in Glasgow.

And in 2018, convicted rapist 'Karen White' – branded a 'highly manipulative' predator by a judge – was moved to HMP New Hall in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, and sexually assaulted two women inmates.

Fox was arrested after police discovered images of Ceri-Lee online that the abuser had been trading with other pedophiles.

She was later charged with and admitted to several counts of sexual activity with Ceri-Lee, inciting a child to engage in sexual activity and distributing indecent images.

In 2016 she was sentenced to 15 years in prison. It was not until the end of 2021 that she told the authorities she wanted to change gender.

A SSAFA spokesperson, said: 'SSAFA, the Armed Forces charity provides practical, emotional and financial assistance to serving personnel, reservists, veterans and their families in their time of need. Due to data protection laws and our need to protect our beneficiaries' and employees' confidentiality, we cannot comment on individuals or their circumstances.'

A spokesperson for Dyfed-Powys Police said: 'In line with national guidelines we can neither confirm nor deny the information you have provided.

'However, we can confirm that Multi Agency Public Protection Arrangements are utilised throughout the entire force area to manage appropriate offenders living in the community and they will be closely supervised by local officers to minimise any risk.'