#and then went wow this guy looks boring as shit

[glazeliights]

suddenly being way bigger than you used to be tends to make reconnecting with your kid a lot more difficult

[pupyuj]

→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...

word count: 10.6k

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.

content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.

requested? : kind of!

a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe

p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—

previous: magic words.

jang wonyoung was late. 

to class.

which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 

“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”

you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!

ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.

everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!

“come on, baby. give me a show.”

you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?

a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.

oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.

(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.

no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.

but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)

thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.

the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.

you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.

you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.

“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.

“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”

“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.

you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.

“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.

“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.

“w-what?!”

“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”

“oh, right!”

you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”

jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.

“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.

“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.

“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.

“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.

gosh, this school was a nightmare.

nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.

but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?

you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.

you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.

wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!

it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.

things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.

so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.

the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?

you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.

when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…

“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”

ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!

“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.

“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.

“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”

you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.

“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.

the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.

the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.

it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.

regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.

“wonyoung…”

the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.

you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.

“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.

“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.

it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.

“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.

“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.

“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 

“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”

“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”

“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.

all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.

“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.

given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”

the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.

“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.

“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.

you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…

“okay.”

wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.

“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.

“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 

oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.

getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?

it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.

you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.

“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”

soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.

“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.

“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)

you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.

“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.

“no.”

surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.

just like last time.

“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.

“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”

and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.

god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.

“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”

fuck, that was gonna do you in.

too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.

“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.

the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.

but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!

you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.

“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.

you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.

immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”

wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.

“well, consent is important—”

“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.

leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.

your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”

scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.

only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.

wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.

“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”

wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”

wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…

you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.

she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.

why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!

“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.

it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.

“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”

wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.

“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.

wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.

“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”

you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.

it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.

“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.

you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?

(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)

“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.

wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.

she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.

so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.

“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.

wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!

“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.

much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 

finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.

you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 

you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?

“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 

“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”

“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 

you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.

“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.

when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.

“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.

“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.

“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.

“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!

although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.

for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.

there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.

you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.

“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.

“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.

“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”

“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!

“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.

“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”

inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.

but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.

“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.

“i knew it!”

once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.

“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.

because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!

“is that…”

wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.

“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 

the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.

“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”

wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”

[emphistic]

Écoute Chérie

A/N: grr

<- Series m.list

When a certain someone — specifically a blond male, showed up to Sukuna’s door that next morning holding a wad of cash in his hand, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to sock him in the jaw. But he contained himself, saying, “Keep that shit for yourself. I don’t want it.”

“Oh? You backing out now, Captain?”

“. . .You’re one sick fuck, Zen’in.” He snatched the money out of the younger’s hands, before slamming his door shut.

Pride is a terrible, terrible thing, and Ryomen Sukuna was full of it.

“Oh, my God, girl! I feel like we moved on a little too quickly. Pause: He—you—you guys KISSED? Stop, don’t—don’t play with me right now. I can’t even get a guy to let me cheat off of him on a final, but you kissed someone on the FIRST date. Let me say that again, FIRST date?! As in the first EVER date you two have been on together.”

If you were counting �� which you weren’t, this would have been the seventy-ninth time you giggled out loud this evening. You and Nobara were sitting — no, standing, actually, with you leaning forward with your elbows on the counter, and the brunette doing likewise. You decided — well, you were forced — to fill her in on all that happened the day before. You had just gotten off of your shift, and, obviously, were still in your uniform, but Nobara insisted you tell her anyway. She wouldn’t and “couldn’t” wait until you got back to your apartment.

“Yes, Nobs, for the hundredth time. We kissed and even added a little bit of tongue and then he walked me back to my apartment and we fucked all night.”

The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her jaw dropped to the floor and even broke through the tiles and went further beneath the surface. Just kidding; because that’s not possible, but her expression was even more funny after you said, “I’m just messing with you, girl. I have some self-worth left, believe it or not, and I wouldn’t sleep with someone after the first date.”

“Funny how you decided to deny only that part.”

“. . .”

“Don’t—don’t tell me the rest was true. Oh, my God! STOP! I was only kidding; but you—you actually added tongue? What the fuck? And, you just decided to not call me right after? Wow.” Nobara crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air for only a few seconds before she went back to gripping your shoulders and shaking your body. “You are such a freak, my God.”

“He also walked me to my door, y’know. No need to focus on only those parts.” You tried to bring her focus onto that, because you found that part the most adorable.

Truth was, the only reason you didn’t immediately call Nobara that night was because you spent the last few hours of that night screaming into your pillow like a schoolgirl and reminiscing on all that happened.

“You know,” you started, turning to face the man behind you, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way to my door, right? I could’ve just gone by myself.” 

You had insisted and insisted to Sukuna that you would be fine, and that the other residents of the building were friendly and cordial, but Sukuna ignored every one of your pleas and walked right next to you anyway. From the parking lot, to the elevators, and down the hallway, Sukuna never left your side, and actually, was surprisingly nice company. You two talked on the way about how good or bad the food at the game was, how hot and humid it was, how annoying the older gentleman beside your seats was, you two talked plenty enough.

“I know. I wanted to.” Sukuna stopped to lean against the wall beside your apartment, crossing his arms as you pulled out your keys.

“Hey, so, I had a lot of fun today. I guess baseball isn’t as boring as I thought it was,” you laughed, scratching the back of your neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” You had tried to tell him on the car ride to your place, but you chickened out.

Sukuna snorted, “No problem; my pleasure, actually. And, I had a lot of fun, too. I think I enjoyed today more than I would if Yuuji was there instead of you. So thank you for coming.”

“Oh, please. Don’t lie; he’s literally your brother. Besides, Yuuji’s not even here to defend himself. Kinda rude, if I say so myself.”

“I’m not lying, though, really. I enjoyed today. I can’t even remember the last time I was able to leave the house for anything fun and actually, sincerely, enjoy it.” Sukuna moved his head as he spoke, as if in a way to accentuate his point. You found that completely and utterly adorable. Just the thought of you being part of making his day alone made you blush, and you looked away sheepishly.

“I’m glad you had a nice time, Sukuna. And thank you, again, for today.” You caught Sukuna by surprise — beyond surprise, actually — when you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a chaste kiss. Mwah! The sound was audible through the night. And it was the sound which replayed over and over in Sukuna’s mind as he lay completely awake for hours past midnight in bed. The only thing he dreamt of — when he eventually fell asleep, that is — was you. You.

Now that he thought of it, there were no words to describe you. No words to describe your beauty, though, ethereal did come close. No words to describe the smile which you gave him when you two passed each other on campus. No words to describe how friendly and comforting the melody of your voice sounded to him; if you were a siren, and he, a pirate, Sukuna would dive headfirst into the water. No words to describe how drunk, how dizzy, how pathetic you made Sukuna, even with mere eye contact. But, there was a word to describe Sukuna.

It’s quite simple, actually.

Sukuna was whipped. Absolutely enamored of you. But. . . Very unfortunate he only noticed now. And, it was such, such a shame that he was also full of pride.

“Okay, that’s so romantic, though! I can’t believe it. My friend is gonna get with the love of her life, and I don’t even know how to turn the stove on. Oh, my God. My friend’s getting with the love of her life. OH, MY GOD!” That was not even close to the last time you would hear Nobara say “Oh, my God” that night.

-

“You wouldn’t happen to . . . y’know . . . have plans . . . this weekend?”

You didn’t know why Sukuna kept on pausing, but you knew it was oddly suspicious.

“And if I did?”

“Then, I wouldn’t ask you to . . . help me . . . with some . . . math.”

“Sukuna, are you okay? You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint.” You crossed your arms, failing to stifle a giggle. You really couldn’t fathom why he was acting so strange. Sukuna couldn’t, either. 

Ever since the day you both went to that baseball game together, Sukuna’s been different, to say the least. And yeah, maybe after kissing someone for the first time changes your behavior towards them, but still, it was strange. 

He wasn’t as cocky when going over his daily feats at basketball practice; he wasn’t as blunt and insulting to freshmans whom you two came across while on campus; he wasn’t as teasing or sharp with his remarks as he usually was; he wasn’t as assertive and casual whilst slinging an arm ‘round your shoulder. He wasn’t him. Then again, Sukuna also didn’t know why he was acting this way.

“I’m . . . fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay. . . Anyways, I am free. So yeah, I can. My place or yours?”

“Ah, you don’t have a lot of good alcohol,” Sukuna tapped his index finger repeatedly on his chin, as if contemplating which location to use was very difficult for someone like him. “I get bored with just water. So, it’ll have to be mine. ‘Sides, I don’t think Gigi likes me that much anyway.”

You laughed. Sukuna wasn’t very keen on having you tutor him while your apparently “murderous” cat was present. Giselle, also known by her nickname ‘Gigi’, was a black-furred breed, with very sharp, untrimmed nails, which proved useful whenever Sukuna came over to hang out with you or do some other shit. Maybe it was because of how provocative Sukuna and his usual cold demeanor were. Maybe it was because of how close Sukuna got to Gigi’s owner whenever you sat down on the couch together. Maybe it was because of the fact Sukuna took your attention off of your so precious cat whenever he stepped foot into the apartment. Maybe it was because Sukuna was just Sukuna. And Gigi didn’t like that one bit.

“Alright, since you’re afraid of a mere feline, which — mind you, is less than a quarter of both your height and size.”

“Well, that feline comes from the depths of Hell. So yeah, excuse me if I prefer to stay sixty miles away from it.”

“Gigi comes from Hell, now? Pfft—she’s probably just excited to see her previous neighbor, then,” you snorted.

Sukuna gave you a side glance, hiding his growing grin. He was not about to openly admit you were even slightly funny. No, he would never give you that kind of satisfaction.

“Okay, so can you tell me what the variable ‘d’ is?” You had explained the formulas as best as you could, even taking it a step further and dumbing it down immensely. Then you left the living room to put away the dishes, leaving the pink-haired male to attempt his assignment on his own. — With some guidance here and there.

Sukuna and you had ordered Chinese, deciding to study while eating. And while your plan for energizing proved to be frustrating at first — since a certain someone didn’t know how to eat with his mouth closed, you had become used to it by the end. Your tactic? Drowning out the audible chewing noises. Eugh.

“Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll show you.” Sukuna leaned his head on the cushions, wrapping an arm around the back of the sofa.

You scrunched up your face in reply, pausing in the middle of scrubbing food and gunk and whatever off of the porcelain plates. “Pass.

“I told you already, Sukuna. The exponential functions are the ones that slowly curve up; think of it as this: good things happen to a bad thing. Get it? Like, their lives are getting better. And, since I know you’ve already forgotten, a ‘y’ value can have as many ‘x’ values, but the ‘x’ value is . . . unambiguous, so it only has one ‘y’ value. Now, does that help?” 

“Ugh, this is such a bore. How can anyone pay attention to these types of things long enough in class to be good at it? Fuck.”

You took his consequent silence as him giving up on life and continuing to work on solving the problem in his evident misery, but oh, how wrong you were.

“S��kuna, what are you doing?” you sucked in a breath. He was so close. So close, to you. You thought it had only been two seconds, but in those two seconds, it only took Ryomen Sukuna four easy strides to end up here. — With his chest pressed almost right up against your back. Key word: almost. Yes, Ryomen Sukuna was so close, but still, so far.

“Helping you.” God, did he have to be that ambiguous all the time? He was like a walking enigma, a puzzle, a riddle, for you to solve. A mystery for which you would soon lose sleep over.

Sukuna easily grabbed several dried plates, removing them from the rack, and storing them in the cabinet above your head. His hand left lingering touches on your arm as they passed by each other. You slowly, gradually, accumulated a mountain of goosebumps.

It was infuriating.

He was so close, but not close enough.

Every time he moved to grab another plate, he would rest his hand upon your hip or on the curve of your waist. Sometimes he ran his large-scaled hands up your middle; sometimes he moved them lower, and lower. Was he trying to give you heart palpitations?

“Y’know,” he started, his voice dripping with honey, “you can keep breathing, right? What, do I smell that bad?” he snickered.

“I—what—why—what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to argue that he had no sense of personal space, which, yes, was true, but you feared he would stop whatever he was doing at the moment. And, you didn’t want that.

“I’m . . . helping . . . you.” He bent down to your level, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, and his hot breath fanning your ear. 

There it was again. That ‘pausing thing’ of his. But, this time, it was different. Earlier he was pausing as if he was unsure, but now, he was pausing just to create suspense and further rile you up. He clearly knew what he was doing; he knew what he was doing to you. Poor ol’ you, who just innocently wanted to wash some dishes.

You had previously wanted to turn around and properly face him in order to confront him better, but now, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not like you could, anyway, you were stuck between the counter and him. Your eyelashes fluttered, as your eyes darted here and there. And your palms began to sweat, you quickly wiped them on the material of your sweater, but your continued attempts were futile.

“No—no, you’re not.” You struggled to stifle your heavy breathing, and it took you quite a time to form a sentence without giving away the tight feeling in your chest.

“Yeah? Then, how could I help you, hm? Tell me,” he spoke your name firmly, like he was anticipating your breaking, and egging you on nevertheless. Then again, how could he not be? It had been days, days, since you two went to that game. Days since he felt like he was in heaven and talking to an angel. Days since he felt your lips on his. Days since he felt well. Days. And for days, he’s been restless, hungry, thirsty, empty. Hell, forget about your predicament, he was the one close to breaking.

“Tell me,” he said your name, again. “Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

“. . .You can help by telling me what the fuck we’re doing right now.”

“Don’t you already know? And here, I thought it was obvious.” Sukuna bit his lip, but that didn’t help any bit in suppressing his laugh.

“What . . . are we . . . doing?” You repeated.

Sukuna was silent, for a moment, “You’re tutoring me, on math.”

“I already know that, dumbass. I mean, what are we doing?”

“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that.”

“Oh, my God—what are we doing? What are we? For fuck’s sake. How thick is your skull really, damn.” You finally mustered the courage to twist your body around, and though you were only met with his chest, you sighed and looked upward to meet his face.

“That’s a little harsh.”

You glowered at Sukuna.

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk,” he cleared his throat. “We’re . . . just us. I don’t know what to tell you. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. That’s all there is to it, right?”

For a second, you thought he was referencing what you had previously said to Nobara, but then the rational side of your brain kicked in and said, “No, there’s no way he could’ve overhead that,” and so, the surprised expression disappeared from your face as you looked down at the floor of the kitchen.

“We’re friends, yeah, that’s all there is to it. . . But friends don’t do . . . this. So we clearly, definitely, shouldn’t be doing this.”

“So, we can pretend we’re not doing this, right? There, fixed the problem.”

“And if I don’t want to pretend we’re not doing this?”

“Then don’t; we don’t have to pretend.”

“But—”

“Please,” he looked at you with such an earnest expression on his features, “don’t say that word. Not again. You’ve no idea, no idea, how much it drives me crazy when you say that word. Mad, insane, deranged. Anything but that, please, anything. We’re clearly not friends. We’re clearly not just friends. So please, don’t call whatever we have as that. I’m sick of it.”

“If we’re not friends, then, what are we?” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you couldn’t even recall when it turned out that way. 

“. . .We’re whatever you want us to be. . . What do you want us to be?”

“No, you decide, Sukuna. What do you want us to be?” You gingerly laid a palm on top of his chest.

“I decide?”

You nodded, “Whatever you want to be . . . will be.”

“I want us to be . . . us. Together. Just us. No one else; just you and me.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

He took your hand from his chest and held it in his, as if in a way to seal his promise. “I’m glad.”

Having had a couple beers — in favor of Sukuna giving up on attempting any more math, you were a little drunk. Just a little. 

“You have a stupid, stupid face, but it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite to stare out. It’s my favorite to kiss. It’s my favorite to rub — your skin is so soft. It’s my favorite. My favorite.” 

He let you pepper as many pecks as you wanted onto his cheek, but when you tried to give Sukuna a proper kiss on the lips, he quickly moved his face to the side so you unintentionally planted your lips on his cheek instead. 

For, he didn’t want you to freak out in the morning and think he was the type of guy to take advantage of someone while they were even a little bit tipsy.

Besides, he had just gotten you. He couldn’t lose you now, could he.

A/N: i love portraying raw emotion

[hitlikehammers]

Steddie Missed Connection AU

feat. Craigslist-trawling-wingwoman!Robin + earnest-LA-transplant!Steve + rockstar!Eddie ✨ inspired by this actual Craigslist love story

It’s always about a 50/50 shot when Robin starts making her little back-of-the-throat squealing noises. Up to a certain pitch, Steve could pretend he had his AirPods on noise cancellation mode.

Once she reached fire-alarm-screeching levels, it overrode the settings and boom: he lost his fall guy.

Thanks, Apple.

But that’s where they are, and the squealing plus the screen in her hands, plus the way her leg’s bouncing against the table they’re both sitting at—which would have overrrode Steve’s AirPod excuse in about a minute because she’s gonna start splashing his glass of orange juice in a hot second—but all of it lumped together?

He’s lucky he’s retained his athletic reflexes post-high school—maybe only because of being joined-at-the-hip with this particular platonic soulmate, really—because by the time she’s swinging her iPad from its case to plop right down in front of him?

At least he’s quick enough to save his overnight oats from becoming aluminum-flavored when she drops the goddamn thing down without warning—caseless, the heathen—and makes indecipherable noises Steve thinks he’s maybe only heard at the zoo as she taps her nail with an migraine-inducing click on the screen.

Steve…supposes this means he’s obligated to look.

He sighs, fully expecting a dumb meme or a ‘cute TikTok’ because he knows who he fucking lives with; he reaches across the table and unfolds his glasses—really, assaulting him with this before he can even get his contacts in…

And it’s a…webpage. Like: just a webpage. A boring webpage, even. Definitely not matching up with the…squealing and table-sized earthquake of bouncing knees. He squints, tries to make it make sense.

Oh. Wow. He didn’t…

Steve did not actually know Craigslist still existed, let alone that people still used it. He was pretty sure the things for sale were always just kidnapping plots with extra steps, and then also that finding a person you walked past that one time was an FYP problem to solve. But.

Here, in front of him, in black and white and honestly like no other color:

Steve squints; it was posted this morning, but only just. Like 4am. So the last afternoon for there to be a one o’clock hour was—

Yesterday.

His yesterday was uneventful. Went shopping with Robs. Filled up the freezer and overbought shit again so they had a kind of massive and wholly mismatched dinner with the leftovers nearly popping open the fridge door. Can’t take the Midwesterner out of the man or woman, apparently.

Definitely nothing like the day this poor soul on a maybe-less-dead-than-presumed website had had. But Steve won’t pretend his heart doesn’t clench a little when he finishes reading because…it’s cheesy.

But Steve’s always been into that romantic…stuff.

“That’s very sweet,” he lands on commenting before passing the tablet back to Robin, who’s staring at him with frankly terrifying eyes. Like: lost-your-fucking-mind eyes.

“Steven.”

“What?”

“Steven.”

“Robin.”

He won’t even pretend he doesn’t jump with the metal slams on the wood where Robin narrowly misses flipping his bowl of sadly-abandoned oats with her iPad again when she slaps it down in from of him and points frantically yet again.

“Look at the location.”

Steve tilts his head.

Oh. He’d just looked at the time. And it’s not like the location in the title was…unique on its own.

“Huh,” he huffs with a shrug when he sees their part of the city listed in the main link up top. “Coinkydink.”

Robin’s growl starts deep, like a diaphragmatic thrum and Steve would be terrified of her if she were anyone else.

As it is: he’s only mildly unsettled. Specifically because the growl rumbles so…long.

Like at least a minute before she screams bloody fucking murder:

“My hair was in the buns!”

And the way she screeches it, and the maniacal twitch of those eyes…she’s saying more than those words, with those words.

Which means Steve has to put in effort to follow her coded message style of communicating, fucking hell. He hasn’t even eaten his breakfast.

He tries to think it through, at least manages to down his glass of OJ so it can’t be a sacrifice to flying iPads when he thinks he…

“Wait.”

Steve frowns. Robin just blinks.

“You don’t,” he shakes his head, or starts to, it’s a slow motion thing; “you don’t like honestly think,” but even as he’s saying it, the look in her eyes starts to make sense, and answers for him:

“This is not about me.”

Because: seriously.

“We were laughing!” Robin is immediate with her rebuttal, still in her screeching era. “No one else was there!”

“Because we specifically time our shopping for when people are at lunch on a weekday,” Steve counters quick, tries to cut her off at the pass; “a statistically slow window of opportunity for us to debate the list!”

“We write the list to avoid debating,” Robin answers in a more sedate, be reasonable now, dingus tone before she shakes her head and scowls and:

“Stop distracting me!”

Yep, back to the screeching.

“Why were you even on that fucking site?” Steve sighs as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.

“Steven,” Robin says again in that fucking tone that always means he’s missing the biggest, far-more-important point but does jack shit to help him find it.

“Robina.”

“Not my name, eww.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you make up a middle name for me,” Steve sticks his tongue out very maturely to her scrunched up face: “they’re never even nice ones,” he adds, because they’re really not; “and I do know that was your next move so,” he smacks his hands opposite the screen on the table in front of him in victory as he crows:

“Denied.”

“This isn’t basketball,” Robin���s working her tongue around her lips inside her mouth, which is always deadly foreshadowing; “you didn’t block my shot or whatever—“

“Didn’t I?” Steve pushes because, well, one, he did, and two, the original conversation was absurd even for them.

“Maybe it was so empty because his security was there.”

Steve frowns. The tone’s too…even. No. No: too haughty.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“I said he looked like a rockstar,” she leans to grab back her tablet and poke near the top, obviously switching browser tabs: “so I did some digging.”

“Robin, what city do we live in?” Steve asks as she works, because yes, Steve remembers seeing a very hot fucking dude staring less in their direction than looking dumbstruck-lost as hell, and he’d considered walking over to ask if he needed help—Midwestern transplant to the bone—which was accompanied by the stray I’d fuck that gorgeous toothpick silly, but in the paper product aisle, like on the 48-count pack of Charmin, he looks soft under all that leather—then both thoughts were swiftly abandoned when the toothpick’s eyes met Steve’s and Steve maybe had to force himself to finish laughing at a joke he can’t remember now, that Robin told, because his skin felt like it was burning a little except the sun had poked behind a cloud, and his throat, it had like, it had just, it—

It just felt…weird.

He does remember that.

“But we don’t see rockstars every day,” which is fair, their neighborhood in particular is less music biz than others.

“Plus, look at this!”

Then she’s shoving the iPad back in front of Steve: it’s a TMZ shot or some other pap photo that’s more than half blur. It is indeed the parking lot at their Costco. And it does…feature a toothpick-esque figure looking similar to the one Steve remembers, but it’s more from the back than the side. And like, anyone can wear that much black in the summer. It’s a free country.

“And look at him!”

She split-screens to a Wikipedia article about a band even Steve’s heard of, if not for listening to them himself. It…he glances at the paparazzi shot.

Lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin Sighted Getting Groceries Just Like Normal People in Mar—

And then he looks back to the wiki: okay. Same band name. The guy with the guitar in the photo looks…

He has the same hair.

“Don’t tell me it’s just coincidence.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“It is just coincidence.”

“Steve.”

Steve feels his face sour.

“I know that tone,” because he does. It never leads to things he enjoys.

“You’ve thought about him.”

“He was gorgeous,” Steve thinks he surprises her with his honesty but like, what does he have to gain by lying? Plus:

“LA’s is like the plastic surgery capital of the fucking world, it’d be kinda sad if a lot of people generally weren’t pretty.”

“He wasn’t that kind of pretty.”

And fuck if they don’t share a brain cell; fuck if she doesn’t see right through him.

“And that’s not why you’ve been thinking about him.”

And fuck if she doesn’t know Steve, far too well.

“I never once said I’d been thinking about,” he hears the words and knows they’re weak, goddamnit.

“You never had to,” Robin smiles a little and taps an annoying finger at the screen again, that’a somehow flipped right back to the Craigslist ad thingy.

And she’s actually not entirely right, because he hadn’t thought much about the gorgeous toothpick man with curls Steve wanted to be smothered by, suffocate in like a pillow. But when he did?

He’d thought most about how he looked soft, on the inside. Thought wild and idiotic things like maybe his soft could match Steve’s soft when no one else’s ever had and he was always left bruised for it, more than once near-unhealable, and maybe they could, like, if their softnesses matched, then like—

Something.

But Steve always comes on too strong, wants too much, hopes to hard and way too fast, though this shit might take the cake, there: so it was idiotic and he’d left that train of thought to derail on its own and—

Did that come on too strong?

His gaze snags on the words, those exact words up on the screen and he’s very tempted to start growling deep in the pit of his stomach, take a cue from Robin’s absurdity.

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” Steve asks, looking pointedly at the clock on the microwave: he knows she does. Pottery making. For self-edification.

She scowls but looks—swears colorfully because it’s later than she thought as she jumps up and goes to presumably…do whatever she does in the bathroom to get ready to leave and look her lesbian-luring best before she gets smattered in wet clay.

Steve remains unclear on whether that look’s more or less attractive to the specific ladies she’s trying to bait.

Either way: it prompts Robin to drop her one-woman campaign insisting Steve’s soulmate of the romantic flavor is calling our desperately into the void of the internet. But it also, however, has the…side-effect of making the time itself an obvious thing. 11:09.

Rob’s gonna take the car, she’s got…supplies and stuff.

Why that’s important is…lost on him.

He could debase himself and brave the bus, if he got off at Washington and—

What the fuck.

What. The. Fuck.

Steve very forcefully shoves Robin’s iPad back across the table and doesn’t think about anything, especially not the numbers, like the number 214, like two hours and fourteen minutes until—

Steve nearly chokes himself on his fucking spoon with how violently he shoves it, full of oats, between his lips. As if he can shut his brain up as easy as he can his mouth.

It…actually kinda works. He might have chipped a tooth.

——————

In the end, Steve is proud of himself for being reasonable and having standards. He doesn’t take a fucking bus to meet a stranger in a Costco parking lot, Jesus Christ. Come on.

He books an Uber.

(And yes, he and Robin agreed no solo Ubers for a month to save up to have the air conditioner looked at before it copped out on them because their landlord only gave a shit if it was dead-dead and yes, maybe she’d gone so far as to put their account on a hold you had to call and remove to avoid temptation—though of the two of them, she definitely had the bigger problem—but little did she think on the fact that while you had to link a phone number, you could just use Google Voice and make a new account and no, Steve’s not insane, or a hopeless romantic, or almost-asking-for-heartbreak-on-the-regular, thank you very much.

He is resourceful. And it’s only like $15 with tip. It’s a quick ride.)

He asks to be dropped near the back of the lot, and takes the walk up slow. Almost goes the long way, straight into the store. Almost turns back entirely.

But then he sees those curls.

And his throat does the…the weird tight thing for no fucking reason, and his feet don’t ask permission to walk in the direction of the man standing…less dumbstruck, now. Even from the back it’s clear.

Now: he’s waiting.

Steve can barely breathe, can’t fucking swallow for the state of his throat, but his feet still aren’t waiting for permission, so it’s only fucking seconds before he’s close enough to catch a whiff of cologne and then—

“Sorry,” Steve ducks around the man from behind and reaches out automatically to steady him when he startles. “Hey, sorry, you just looked like maybe you were looking for something?” Steve smiles as open, as reassuring as he knows. “Just wanted to check if you needed any help.”

Keep it casual, Steve, keep it fucking friendly and extra polite and—

“Oh my god.”

The guy barely breathes it out, his eyes so wide, and Steve doesn’t know why he hasn’t moved his hand from the guy’s arm but Steve can feel the electric current that runs through him, like the finest grade of trembling. And electricity, right, it travels. Conducts.

In case you felt your heart skip just one beat, didn’t even have to full-on stop—

And even that proximity to this man is nothing compared to hearing his voice, low and a little syrupy even as he stares in shock, in disbelief—and oh. Oh, but what was it the guy had written in his post? About feeling the earth move a little, or like, rewiring your cells just for meeting eyes?

Steve, he’s…

Yeah. Yeah.

Okay.

“You’re here.”

Steve blinks, rocked back to the moment to deal with the new tilt of the globe and the spontaneous realignment of his insides later. This guy’s looking at Steve like he’s unbelievable, like he’s miraculous, like he’s…

Sunshine.

“I’m here?” Steve asks, a little breathy, a little curious.

“I,” the guy swallows, lips shiny as he bites at them, fucking adorable; “I saw you, umm, yesterday and I maybe, well, possibly I wrote some,” he fumbles and sounds like he’s building up to eventual hysterics, so Steve acts wholly on instinct and reaches further now to catch at both his hands.

“Relax,” Steve breathes out with a smile, and doesn’t overthink smoothing his thumbs over the guy’s knuckles, just in case it soothes him.

“My friend,” Steve lets go with one hand and grabs his phone to show the page he’d loaded on the ride here; “she was convinced it was you, about me. I wasn’t, so,” he shakes his head quick when something falls in the guy’s face, something dims: oh, umm, no.

He cannot have that.

“Not trying to catch you out or something,” Steve exhales it warm, as reassuring as he can, with his whole chest as he grabs the guy’s hands in both his own again—since he seemed to not mind; “just,” and Steve shrugs even as he smiles a little, less self-deprecating with it than he’d probably have landed on if the guy hadn’t reacted to Steve’s hands on his by clinging back so tight:

“Just a little hard to believe, is all.”

The man barely lets the words settle before his jaw drops almost comically and he demands, high-pitched and somehow still rumbling, something commanding in it nonetheless:

“How?”

Like it’s unimaginable. Like Steve reading that post and walking into this lot and striding up to a perfect stranger—who may or may not be very famous but that’s actually not even a little bit of the point—but a stranger who would want to see him—

But then Steve’s meeting the guy’s eyes again; hadn’t wholly realized he’d been staring at their hands more than anything. Those eyes are like the night sky, swirling and endless and sparking in the right slant of light, and Steve feels them like a welcome, like a cushion of the stars, like a safe landing in a chaotic universe.

He doesn’t even know this man.

But he thinks…yesterday. Yesterday, his heart didn’t stop, not like this guy had written, but Steve understands now what it did do instead, the thing he did remember, the tightness in his throat: his heart didn’t stop.

It just surged upward and took up residence to pound at his trachea where it tripped instead. Which is kinda where he’s back to right now.

“Could I,” the guy’s voice is rough, shaky, and so is he, Steve feels it where he’s still got his hand gripped firm; “would it be too much to ask if I could hug you?”

And he huffs a breath, and it sounds too….too small, like he’s afraid or ashamed and it pings something hateful, but so much more protective in Steve’s blood just to hear it as he confesses on a end of an exhale:

“I just want to know if you’re real.”

And Steve didn’t grow up a hugger, but he sure as shit’s grown into one; he’d be one of those people standing in the city with a ‘Free Hugs’ sign without much convincing. But this guy.

This man in front of him who may or may not be famous, is definitely a stranger either way save that he poured out some lines on the internet that maybe exceeded the term ‘heartfelt’ by a mile, who may or may not be standing in here, inside this moment, for something like fate because…Steve did feel it.

Maybe he didn’t think twice about the immensity it could have, not in the moment, because he’d been shopping, and Robin’s story was funny and maybe he was just struck by his luck in living a life with his platonic soulmate and knowing joy; surely your heart can trip for that and just because it never had before, just because it did this one first time when he crossed eyes with a genuinely beautiful man who left Steve with half-a-second’s certainty that looking any longer would flay wide this unknown person’s soul for Steve to sift through: but Steve felt things like that easy, always had. Romanticized nothings like it was a profession.

But it never hit like this had, has—is—before, if indeed this is actually anything—

And Steve’s heart is still tripping but it’s back in his chest, and he knows it because where he’s pressed against this guy’s kinda-gasping chest, now, close and tight? Maybe Steve’s never paid attention before, or maybe Steve’s just never…touched like this before, even if all they’re doing is hugging in a fucking parking lot.

But.

He’s pressed there and his heart’s tripping in his chest and he knows it wholly and fully because he can feel this man’s heartbeat next to his own—and where it should be a battle, because it’s pounding, both of them are, one side literally against the other?

It feels like a caress. It feels like, like…

Steve closes his eyes tight because they start to sting with the single word it feels like: impossible, absurd, but…

Here he is. He’s never felt someone’s heartbeat pressed up against his own before. Definitely never felt—never dreamt—that it could feel like it fits.

He leans back when he thinks he’s got a hold on the hopelessness of his tender-hearted absurdity, but the guy is staring at him already when he does and suddenly Steve’s got a handle on absolutely nothing except his pulse jackrabbiting some more but then also feeling…like it lost something. Like it’s not complete.

And the man, he’s staring with those eyes so wide again but now it’s like he’s…it’s kinda like he knows. He knows his eyes are going to let Steve flay him wide open.

It’s like he’s begging Steve to…look. To look and less to take, and more to…have.

Maybe, maybe to keep?

And…how?

“Do you feel it?” the guy whispers, those deep dark eyes so big: just these vulnerable, bleeding hearts on main. “Even just—“ he tries to walk back, to open it all up wider, desperate and hopeful and Steve hears all of it because it’s all written in the same key as all that Steve knows, all that Steve is. Somehow.

Somehow.

So Steve blinks, too many times before he grabs the man harder and drags him in again to hold, hold, hold until the heartbeat on either side of Steve’s ribs is reaching for the other, touching. Until they’re holding on, too, and once they do, then he can whisper, warm and maybe wet in the crook of this man’s neck, this stranger who’s holding onto his heart now, unfathomable, as he speaks words he doesn’t have to think about first to know they’re going to shift the world again, this time so they both can know it in the souls of them together, all at once:

“I feel it.”

For @hbyrde36, who requested 'Missed Connection AU' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth

divider credits here and here

💫 ao3 link here

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

TWST with an Angelic Mage reader

Warning: Reader is suicidal, slight swearing.

Angel Magic revolves around summoning angels, each of which are capable of inflicting different kinds of damage. An Angelic Mage can summon them through the use of Angel Coins. Each coin representing a portion of the user's lifespan. If the summoned angel is defeated, the user will suffer great pain. Only powerful Angelic Mages are capable of summoning basic angels without a cost and suffer no drawbacks when they are defeated.

...Listen, I'm gonna be honest with you guys...

I don't really give a shit about the lore of the characters, I'm mostly interested in the magic/skills they use (examples: Blood Mage, Angelic Mage).... Why do I like risky magic concept? I don't know. I just think they're creative. Like, when there's a protagonist that just punches things with fire magic, ooh so classic. When there's an antagonist with a destructive magic but there's one flaw or loophole about it that the protagonist has to figure out in order to defeat them, wow ok cool... BUT THEN THERE'S THAT ONE SIDE CHARACTER EITHER THAT DOESN'T GET ENOUGH SCREENTIME OR WE'LL NEVER GET TO SEE AGAIN THAT HAS A CREATIVE CONCEPT OF THEIR MAGIC: SUMMONS ANGELS, CONTROL BLOOD VESSELS, STABS THEMSELVES TO UNLEASH THEIR BUILT-UP MANA TO DEMOLISH SHIT. LITERALLY DESTROYS EVERYTHING INCLUDING THEMSELVES BECAUSE HELL NAH THEY AIN'T GOING TO JAIL.

...Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point, please excuse me. Now, onto the story!

• .............................................................................

• .........................This is boring.

• You thought that it's your time to arrive at death's door but no. Instead, you have to wait inside this stupid coffin for what it feels like eternity. Thank god that this fiery gremlin gave you an excuse to come out. This way, the Grim Reaper won't punish you for coming out of your coffin~

• Oh! It looks like this creature's name is Grim. How cute! Until he demanded that you strip. Not cute! What's that? He'll roast you if you won't strip off your robe? What a coincidence! Your little angels are hungry for some weasel, silly Grim 😊........... Run🙂.

{Meanwhile, at the ceremony}

• While the Dark Mirror sorts all of the students to their respective dorms, Crowley went to the Hall of Mirrors to fetch the last coffin. He was quite puzzled when the coffin did not respond to his call to levitate to the ceremony room.

Dark Mirror: "Hmmm... Heartslabyul!"

Azul: "My, that's quite a number of students for this year."

Leona: "Yawn... When will this be over?"

Riddle: "How impatient, Kingscholar. There's only 1 hour and 23 minutes left until the ceremony ends and that's your 12th yawn."

Idia, via tablet: "Dude, you've been counting his yawns?"

Kalim: "Huh... Is that enough time for Jamil to prepare the Welcoming Party?"

{Meanwhile at Scarabia}

Jamil, setting up the plates: "WHERE IS THE CHICKEN SALAD?!"

Scarabia Student A, cutting the vegetables: "I'M MAKING IT--"

Jamil: "DO IT FASTER! WHY IS THIS KEBAB STILL RAW?!"

Scarabia Student B, holding a flaming pan: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

{Back at the ceremony}

Kalim: "...Nah, It's Jamil! I'm sure he can handle it."

Vil: "Bring the next coffin. I still have an interview tonight."

• The headmage returned to the room with no coffin.

Crowley: "... I think we'll be behind schedule for a bit."

Leona: "And what do you mean by that ?"

Crowley: "The last coffin is empty."

Vil: "... Pardon?"

Riddle: "How in Twisted Wonderland...?"

Azul: "Impossible. That can't be."

Crowley: "Do not worry! For I will graciously search for them myself--"

• Just as he was about to turn back with his lash, a small screaming monster burst through the doors and ran inside the room. The monster hid behind Crowley, using him like a shield. The students overheard the loud monster and pulled out their magical pens.

Grim: "FNYAAAAH! THEY'RE GONNA EAT ME!"

Crowley: "What the- Halt, monster! You should not be on campus-"

Grim: "THEY'RE SCARY! DON'T LET THEM GET NEAR ME! SHUT THE DOORS BEFORE THEY GET IN!!"

Crowley: "Who?"

?????!??????: "...Hehehe...😊"

• The two looked at the hallway of the door and see a silhouette of a person approaching the room. The headmage then recognized the robe and immediately thought that the person is the missing student. The alerted students put away your magical pen, thinking that the monster is your familiar.

Grim: "I-IT'S THEM! CLOSE IT! CLOSE IIIT!!"

?????!??????: "Be not afraid 😇."

Grim: "Fnyaagh!!"

Crowley: "Ah! You must be the last student. Quite the impatient one, are you?"

?????!??????: "I apologize. But I simply couldn't bear to wait any longer."

Crowley: "You must also tame your familiar properly! Look at how afraid he is of you!"

Grim: "Fnyagh?! Heck no! I'm not this weirdo's pet! A-and the Great Grim's scared of no one!"

?????!??????: "You're not? Oh well, I guess I just misunderstood your appearance then."

Crowley: "He's not yours?"

Grim & ?????!??????: "Nope!"

Crowley: "Then I will order students to throw this beast off of campus."

Grim: "FNYAGH! WAIT, YA CAN'T DO THAT! I'M A MAGE HERE! NOOOOO!! JUST YOU WAIT! I'LL BE THE GREATEST MAGE IN THIS SCHOOL!!!"

• The headmage then called a couple of students to restrain the monster and drag him out of the room. It's a shame~ You really thought that this feline will guide you to heaven but you couldn't help but feel a little bad. Just a little bit. Wait, did he just say school?

Crowley: "Ahem! Without further ado, let the ceremony continue! Please stand in front of the Dark Mirror and say your name."

?????!??????: "...Why?"

Crowley: "To sort you, of course. Now go."

Leona: "Finally. This stupid ceremony better be over.... Yawn"

Riddle: "That's your 13th yawn."

Idia: "Bruh, just stop counting."

• You noted that some students still kept their guard up, thinking that if the monster was so scared of you to the point of running and hiding, then you might be the bigger monster. The students near you stepped away after sensing your heavy aura.

• The mask-wearing man shoved you in front of an old, intricately designed mirror. A face appeared on the surface, scowling at you.

Dark Mirror: "State thy name."

AngelMage! Yuu: "AngelMage! Yuu."

• The mirror stared intensely at you before expressing shock and disdain. Almost like it sees through you...

Dark Mirror: "...This soul does not belong in any dorm."

• The crowd of students gasped in shock and the headmage is in disbelief. Whispers among the students soon filled the room, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere.

Crowley: "I do not understand! The Ebony Carriage would never... How?!"

Dark Mirror: "Thy soul... Is dark... Their soul is divine but impure... Their light is bright but tainted..."

Crowley: "Tainted?.... Could it be? Blot?"

Dark Mirror: "...This one possesses an art form of magic that is celestial, yet uses it for horrible intentions, throwing no caution of the power they hold..."

Azul, pushing his glasses up: "Celestial, you say?"

Idia: "Damn, this sounds like an anime scene."

Dark Mirror: "... The darkness in their soul has swallowed and layered their heart. Thus, they do not belong in any dorm."

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[kitasgloves]

"The Only Exception"

tracklist

— ♬ "Because none of it was ever worth the risk. But you are the only exception"

— ♬ Tsukishima x Reader, timeskip, SFW, minor angst to fluff, gen reader, high school friends to lovers, no beta

From an early age, you learned that you had to grow up alone. You realize that to survive in this world, you need to have the courage to face whatever lies ahead. You have to be independent, relying on people constantly isn't ideal. Trusting people is already hard enough in the beginning, and it affects your ability to connect with your peers. Everybody seems so insincere that it hinders you from interacting. For a large portion of your life, you kept to yourself.

You may have gotten away with that in middle school but pressure sets in as you enter high school. Everybody has their group no matter where you look. And it reinforced your sense of embarrassment that you couldn't find your place in this social hierarchy. You sat near the far back of the classroom on your first day, you were done introducing yourself one by one but nobody seemed bothered to be interested in approaching you. The thought of transferring schools crossed your mind.

The first lecture began and you had difficulty following the concepts, you furrowed your eyebrows looking at the notes you made and compared them to the writings on the board. You scratched your head. You sighed and decided to ask the person next to you to see if they understood the lesson. You turned your head and saw a tall blonde wearing thin-framed glasses, he sported a bored expression as he jotted down his notes while listening to the teacher. He seems like he comprehends the lesson well so you tapped his arm.

"Uh, excuse me?"

He ignores you. Rude, you think but you shake your head and tap his arm harder. He frowns and turns to look at you, he looks annoyed. You sent him an awkward smile and whispered.

"Hey, I was wondering if you understand any of the concepts being discussed?"

"Of course I do, it's just some basic concepts."

He replies flatly. Suddenly, you felt like the dumbest person on planet Earth. Basic concepts? Why does it seem like some otherworldly language you couldn't decipher? You fall silent and accepted the fact that you don't understand jack shit from the lecture. You thought the tall guy would be nice enough to break it down for you, he looked smart too. As the bell rang, you sluggishly packed all of your things in your bag until someone slipped a piece of paper on your desk.

"Here, seems like you could use some help, dumbass"

Your face turns sour when you realize it's the tall blonde guy, he's even smirking down at you, mocking you both with his height and intelligence. You frown at him.

"I don't need your help"

"Rude, I'm just trying to be nice"

He tries to take back the piece of paper until you grab his arm, stopping him. He snickers as he watches you snatch the paper to give it one hard look. You realize it's his notes from the lecture and it was easy to understand. You were impressed and it showed on your face.

"Wow, these are...amazing"

"Of course it is, I wrote it and listened to the lecture"

"Gee, thanks"

You said, sarcastically. You carefully folded the paper and slipped it inside your bag. You head outside the school building with him trailing behind, you notice how it is raining outside and how you have unfortunately forgotten your umbrella.

"Damnit!"

You cursed. You were about to place your bag over your head when the blonde guy pulled out his umbrella and sent you a teasing smirk. What a cocky bastard! He might just be straight-up the worst person you've ever met. You scowled at him as he stood there with that smug look.

"What? Do you expect me to share an umbrella with you?"

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

"Didn't yours teach you to be prepared at all times?"

He rebutted, you went quiet and opted to stare at your black shoes. There was a tense silence between the two of you, all you could hear were the raindrops falling on the concrete. Suddenly, you hear the blonde sigh.

"...I don't have all day, you know"

"Huh?"

"Are you gonna get your ass over here or would you rather have fun getting soaked in the rain"

Your face lights up in a fraction of a second as you rush under his umbrella. The two of you walked outside the school's property without saying a word. Your home was far so you asked him to drop you by the bus stop, you're surprised that he did. He doesn't leave until the bus comes to view a few streets away. You look up at him, your uniform only slightly wet.

"Thanks. I'm [Name] [Surname] by the way"

"Whatever, don't think we're immediately friends after this"

"You sound like you don't have any friends"

"That's none of your business"

"So, you're not gonna tell me your name?"

"No"

He replies as you let out a tiny pout. The bus arrives as you spare him a wave goodbye and a smile, the blonde only rolls his eyes. Before you can step in, he grabs your arm firmly.

"Tsukishima"

"What?"

"It's my name, idiot"

"Oh. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Tsukki!"

You giggled at the scowl spreading across his features. You got on your seat inside the bus and watched as Tsukishima's figure shrunk from the distance. You missed the pink tint on his cheeks as he stared at the bus driving away. You and Tsukishima began talking frequently, it was more on insults, nonetheless you both interacted daily. You two got partnered up for projects or presentations much to both of your annoyance. But, both of you unexpectedly got along even if it may seem you couldn't stand each other.

Tsukishima became a friend, you know it because he invited you to eat lunch with him and his childhood friend Yamaguchi. He tells you to watch his practice match at the volleyball club, you cheer for him the whole time. He teases you for not understanding the lecture but ends up lending you his notes. When it rains, you sometimes purposely leave your umbrella to see if he still cares enough to share his umbrella with you. And he always does, albeit annoyed, it still tugged on your heartstrings.

The two of you got closer to the point where he was comfortable sharing about his interests and his family. You know he enjoyed volleyball even if he keeps saying that it's just a club, and he has a fixation on dinosaurs, something you tease him a lot for. You learned that he came from a loving family with a mother and a brother. In return, you shared your past with him.

You told him that when you were younger you saw your daddy cry and curse at the wind, he broke his own heart and you watched as he tried to reassemble it. You told him that your mama swore that she would never let herself forget. You told Tsukishima that that was the day that you promised that you'd never sing of love if it did not exist. Sharing about your parents' divorce was hard because it wasn't something easy to talk about since you're still affected by it. But as you tried to hold back the tears, Tsukishima saw through them and patted you on the head then said;

"It may have not worked for them but that doesn't mean you're supposed to get hung up about it"

That afternoon when you spilled him everything, it was inside his room during the weekend. You hugged him that day and sobbed your little heart out as he held you in silence. Slowly, he carefully stroked your hair and tried to stop you from crying by sharing his strawberry shortcake. That day, you knew you liked Tsukishima. Maybe you know somewhere deep in your soul that love never lasts. And you've got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face. And you've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance. Up until now, you have sworn to yourself that you're content with loneliness because none of it was ever worth the risk.

However, when you smile at Tsukishima and he reciprocates it during your graduation day, you're beginning to think he might be the only exception. After that, you never saw Tsukishima again, it crushed you if you're being honest. You're alone again and you felt like a fool for believing everything would change. You survived on your own at college, albeit making only a few friends. You graduated with honors and got an apartment for yourself.

You buried that stupid high school crush on Tsukishima but it resurfaced when you saw him at the new museum. You had no idea he worked there. You decided to avoid him but both of your eyes met before you could flee. It felt like the air was violently knocked out of your lungs, you recognize the horrid butterflies swirling inside your stomach when he tilted his head at you. He didn't change much, if anything, he grew more handsome. You gulped.

"[Name]?"

"...Hi, it's been a while"

"Didn't expect to see you here. Where have you been?"

Tsukishima tries to catch up with you. It seemed like he had matured greatly. You fall comfortable in your conversation that you two went out for coffee after his shift. He made you feel like a teenager again, smiling and giggling. He reminded you of your buried feelings for him. It was true that you fell for him during your first year but never dared to tell him until graduation, how pathetic.

Later, Tsukishima insisted on taking you home. Your head screamed to decline but the throbbing of your heart was louder. You invited him inside your home to chat a little longer and before you know it he's getting near you. It felt so surreal when he caressed your cheek and kissed you. Shocked, you froze. Ultimately, you surrender by kissing him back. You couldn't wrap your head around how you ended up sleeping beside him, you two made out until one of you grew tired. It didn't help that Tsukishima didn't offer any explanation. So, you lie there staring at the ceiling, doubting that the blonde reciprocated your feelings despite the kiss you shared.

You've got a tight grip on reality but you can't let go of what's in front of you here. You know that he'll leave you in the morning when you wake up. And leave you with some kind of proof it's not a dream. With a few tears slipping from your eyes, you fell asleep with a heavy heart. Just as you suspected, Tsukishma was nowhere to be found in your apartment, and the only proof you had was a note saying he left for work before you woke. You ignored the ache in your chest as you got ready for today. It was cruel for fate to let you reunite with him only to have your heart broken. You think back to your mother and father and thought how love didn't work for them. You couldn't stop yourself from bawling.

It was a week later when you received a knock on the door, when you answered it was Tsukishima. Bewildered, you asked why he was here as you tried your best not to crumble right in front of him.

"I need to talk to you"

He says. Was he going to explain what he did previously was an impulsive decision? Was he going to tell you that he regrets kissing you? God, your eyes were already wet before the blonde could even open his mouth. 

"I'm sorry for what I did last time, [Name]"

"I get it. I know you regret kissing me that night-"

"What?"

"I said, I know you regret-"

"Regret? You think I regret what happened that night?"

There was a hopeful skip of a heartbeat. Tsukishima sighs and runs a hand through his hair, he looks at you and you know he sees your glistening eyes. You can tell by how his face dropped.

"What am I supposed to think? You kissed me and left the next morning, Kei"

"That's what I regretted, [Name]. Not the kiss"

"You regretted leaving the next morning?"

"Yes, because I was..."

He pauses and he hears you sniff. Seemingly panicked, Tsukishima grabs your hand and firmly squeezes it. His eyes gazed straight at your soul and it almost scared you.

"Because I was scared..."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of telling you that I love you"

Suddenly, you couldn't breathe. It sounded too good to be true. Your mouth was agape as you struggled to find the words to speak. Was he lying? However, when you look at him and notice the flushed look on his face and the gentleness in his eyes, you discover it is the opposite.

"You...love me?"

"I've always had, dumbass"

"But why?"

"I don't have all day to explain why I fell for you but in summary, you make me do things I wouldn't do"

"Like what?"

"Make exceptions"

Tsukishima elaborates that he has never shared his notes with anyone back in high school. He says that he has never anticipated sharing an umbrella with someone. He told you has never comforted anyone before when they cried. He has never skipped volleyball practice because you needed help studying for the exam. He has never packed extra food for someone to share with. And he has dated others but never made the same exceptions for them. It has always been you.

"Kei, I...I love you too. I've never fallen in love with anybody else"

"Wow, shit. Now, I'm kinda regretting confessing"

"No, you don't"

You finally smile at him and he does the same. He goes in for an embrace and you instantaneously melt in his arms. Tsukishima goes to plant gentle kisses on your skin.

"I left at work and skipped volleyball practice for this so you owe me"

"Why did you do that, Kei?"

"Because none of it was ever worth the risk. But you are the only exception"

Tsukishima sees the grin on your face, a smug look spread all over your features. After all, he has granted you the privilege of being his one and only, the one who owns his heart the one he's willing to risk it all. His only exception. You were on your way to believing.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[solar-wing]

🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of  picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did. 

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home. 

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother. 

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[suugarbabe]

heyy! you're one of my fav angst writers so I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle x reader fic where Mattheo enjoys making reader jealous so reader goes out if her way to make mattheo jealous which ends in confessions and perhaps a smutty ending/ fluffy ending? Whatever you see fit! Thank youuuu~

(1) thank you sooo much, if I could I would just write all day long, I'm so glad you like what I put out there

(2) I loooove a jealous Teo 😊; here you go love x

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 1.9k

18+ MDNI!! be aware of the content you consume, do not read if you are a minor.

“You know if you glare any harder, you might bore a hole through the man,” Pansy’s comment did nothing to stray your eyes away from the scene in front of you. “Yeah, well he deserves it, he’s doing this shit on purpose. It’s like he gets off on making me jealous.” You watched as Mattheo continued to shamelessly flirt with the Hufflepuff girl seated next to him. She was a giggling mess at basically anything he was saying, “He’s not that funny, she’s being obnoxious.” Pansy snorted at your comment, simply shaking her head. It was when Mattheo tucked a loose strand behind her ear that you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. Pansy saw the look on your face, then followed your eyes to Mattheo and the girl, “Oh he’s in for it now isn’t he.” You let out a huff of frustration, closing your textbook and leaving the classroom. 

In your dorm room you were getting ready for the party your house was throwing tonight. Typically you dressed a little more relaxed for parties your house hosts because it’s more homey to you, but tonight you were going full on vixen. You opted for a black mini dress, skin tight and hugging all the right places. You paired it with emerald green heels, a gold necklace adorned with an emerald stone and a gold snake bracelet. You allowed Pansy to do your hair and makeup, making your eyes pop and leaving your hair down your back in bouncing waves, just like you knew your boyfriend liked. 

However, he was barely going to touch you tonight. Not until you allowed him to anyway. This morning he fucked around, tonight he was going to find out. When you and Pansy entered the party it was in full swing. You spotted your group of boys in the back corner, and Merlin if Mattheo didn’t look amazing. But you took a deep breath, centering yourself. No matter how good he looked, you had to stick to your plan. Pansy bounced over to Draco, throwing her arms around him and greeting him with a big kiss to his cheek. It was obvious the boys had been drinking for a while before you both got there simply by the reaction Draco had, which was a big smile and giggle. 

You walked to the group a little slower. When you approached them, Mattheo’s eyes grew wide. You could see him looking you up and down and you did your best to appear unbothered by this. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, you just hummed in return. He met your eyes, “Something wrong, princess?” You put on a big smile, “No, Teo, nothing is wrong. Why did you do something you shouldn’t have?” He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Erm, no..?” Your mouth fell to a tight line, how could he be so oblivious, or was he still playing the game from earlier? You decided it was your turn now, and glanced around your circle of friends for the perfect accomplice. 

Besides your boyfriend, Enzo was your favorite boy in the group. He was always so cheerful, smile plastered on his face regardless of the situation. He was a cute guy, always having his own gaggle of girls following him around, but he never really entertained it. He always seemed more interested in quidditch or parties. When he saw you looking at him his smile grew wider, “Y/n, you look, wow.” You giggled, “Thank you, Enzo, that’s very kind.” If possible his smile grew wider as he took another sip of his drink. Mattheo went to place his hand on your waist possessively, but you pushed him off, instead walking up to Enzo, “You wanna dance with me, Enzo?” Enzo’s eyes flicked to Mattheo but you grabbed hold of Enzo’s jaw, pulling him down to face you, “Please, Enzie, you know Teo never dances with me and I wanna have fun tonight.” You put on your best pout, looking up through your lashes. 

You saw his shoulders slack, indicating that you had convinced him. You bounced on your toes, clapping your hands together. You knew the hem on your dress was riding up as you did so, and you could feel Mattheo’s eyes boring a hole in your back. You grabbed Enzo’s hand that wasn’t holding his drink and dragged him to the middle of the dance floor, ignoring any protests you heard from Mattheo as you passed. He looked over at Pansy, eyebrows nearly to the ceiling. Pansy held her hands up in defense, “Maybe if you’re lonely you can ask that Hufflepuff girl to dance?” Mattheo’s lips slowly turned into a smirk, realizing now the game you were playing at. 

Once near the middle of the dance floor, you turned your back to Enzo, swaying your hips and grinding against him. He free hand held firm to your waist as you snaked an arm up and around his neck. He let your bodies move against each other before enlightening you, “I know what you’re doing, y/n/n.” You turn to face him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, still dancing with your body pressed to his, “You mean just dancing with one of my best guy friends?” Enzo rolled his eyes, “I know you’re using me as a ploy to make Mattheo jealous. Don’t worry though…” He leaned in closer, whispering against your ear, “He’s been a dick on the quidditch pitch all week so I’ll play along. We can give him a little show if you want.” You nodded your head quickly, then Enzo went straight to work. 

As the next song came on Enzo grabbed hold of your waist, fingers dancing just above the curve of your ass. As the beat of the song got stronger, Enzo slotted his leg between yours, guiding you to essentially grind on his thigh. The song was barely a minute in before you felt another arm wrap around your waist and lift you away from your dancing partner. You didn’t even panic, you knew who it was and the way he talked to Enzo had warmth rushing to the pit of your stomach, “I don’t know what the fuck game you’re playing at Lorezno but it’s over.” Enzo held his hands up, “Listen, mate, she asked me to dance. Who am I to tell her no?” Mattheo grumbled some form of ‘fuck you’ back to him as he carried you to the edge of the dance floor and towards the stairs leading up to the dorms. 

“Exactly where are we going? I’m not done dancing, nor drinking. There’s like the whole night left to party,” You were struggling against Matteo’s grip now, which only tightened with your fighting. “Oh, you’re done with the party, princess. You wanted to act like a little slut with my friend, well now I’m going to treat you like a slut.” You gasped as he threw you down on his bed, “Excuse me, sir, but Enzo is my friend too. And I wasn’t acting like a slut…we were just dancing.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, pushing you back on to the bed and crawling over you. He dipped his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin making you gasp, “You don’t dance like that with my friends.” 

He nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, “O-our friend.” You barely got the words out, Mattheo’s hands trailing down your sides and playing with the hem of your dress. “Do you want our friend to be here right now because if you’d rather he help you out,” Mattheo dragged his middle finger up your clothed center, “I’m sure he’d kill to feel how wet he got you.” You tried to buck your hips towards him, tried to gain any friction possible, “N-not for him, all for you T-Teo.” He hummed, trailing his lips up your neck and along your jaw, “F’me, hmm? But you’ve barely been by me all night.” He was toying with you now, thumb drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, not nearly applying the pressure you needed. You shook your head, “Only was thinking of you, wanted, ah, wanted to make you jealous.” 

Mattheo hooks his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down agonizingly slow. You tug at the sides of your dress, allowing it to bunch up around your waist, “You wanting me to do something, love?” Mattheo looks up at you, eyes dancing with deviance. You tangle your fingers in his hair, “Need you, Teo.” He growled lowly at the wine in your tone, “What do you need from me, princess? Use your words.” You tugged at his curls, “Mouth, need your mouth on me.” He toys with you now, laying on his stomach, smoothing his palms up your legs, squeezing the flesh of your thighs before placing a kiss to each one, “Here?” 

You buck your hips toward him, causing him to flatten a palm against your hip, keeping you still. Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your center. You let out a choked gasp, head falling back against the pillow, “Oh, there? Is that what you want, princess?” You open your mouth to respond when he does it again, this time pressing his thumb down on your clit as he does so. “Loss for words now, hmm? But you were talking such a big game earlier.” You want to glare at him, to tell him to fuck off but the way his mouth feels on you is pure bliss.

Your nails scratch on his scalp and the growl he releases sends vibrations straight to your core. He grips your thighs tighter, surely causing bruises but in the moment you can’t get yourself to care. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard as he plunges three fingers knuckle deep into you. Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Teo, don’t stop, please.” 

You can feel the smirk on his face as he works his fingers just slightly faster, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter with each curl, each lick, each twist. Your hips roll against in face, grip tightening in his hair until you’re practically using him, riding his tongue and chasing your high and the feeling gets tighter and tighter and then the rubber band snaps, your mouth drops open and a chorus of praises mixed with his name leave your mouth. And he lets your ride it out on his tongue, on his fingers, but even when you begin to settle he doesn’t stop. He pushes against the sensitive nerves and you feel like you’re going to black out from the pleasure as he demands a second release from you before you can even stop it, not that you would even want to at this point. As you catch your breath you chance a look down at him between your thighs, catch him rub a thumb across his lips, gathering your arousal and sucking it off. You smile at him and he just grins at you, a lovestruck look on his face, “If this is my punishment I’m gonna have to make you jealous more often.” You were teasing, but slightly serious. Mattheo crawls over you, face hovering just above yours now, “Oh darling, I’m just getting started.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Punch me out

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 4

Prompt: Meet-cute at work

Rated: E

CW: Blowjobs, dirty talk, slight degradation kink

Tags: No UD AU; company Christmas party; bathroom sex; blowjobs; dirty talk; Eddie is a disaster and Steve is a slut and they both love it; inappropriate use of vending machine drinks

Eddie shouldn't have gone to the company Christmas party. The few weeks he's worked here taught him a bunch of stuff. 

The CEO? Asshole. 

The management? Spineless lickspittles.

The corporate culture? A conglomerate of bullshit. Eddie’s position is called Facility Manager - the most ridiculous euphemism for Janitor ever.

Anyhow!

He shouldn't have come, but Gareth insisted that was exactly what those tie-wearing douchebags wanted, so they went. 

Only that Gareth has disappeared with the receptionist, leaving Eddie to aimlessly meander while the tie wearers got progressively more drunk. He should probably have gone home.

Only he didn't. 

So he kind of brought this upon himself, he thinks, while a puddle of punch soaks into his crotch and laughter wafts all around him. 

The only one looking equally horrified is the guy the punch belonged to. He’s still holding the empty cup and blushing from his chestnut hair all the way down to his business shirt. 

“Shit, sorry!” he babbles. “Didn’t see you there-” 

“Don’t sweat it, Stevie,” Tommy Hagan guffaws. “I’m sure he brought his mop.” 

Stevie’s face grows stony. “Shut it, Tommy.”

Hagan does. 

Before Eddie can feel confused, one large hand takes him by the shoulder and steers him away. 

“Sorry again.” 

“‘s alright,” Eddie shrugs. “Was just heading home-” 

“Oh, no.” A pair of big, sad eyes fixes him from behind wire-frame glasses. “At least let me make it up to you? Please?” 

How could Eddie say no to that? 

*

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans, head thudding against the bathroom wall. "If that's you apologizing, you can spill stuff on me more o-ooooh …" 

Stevie doesn't answer, which … okay. That would be quite the feat with Eddie’s cock down his throat as it is. 

He looks up at Eddie from where he's kneeling, and fuck, the sight of him! Hairdo ruined, lips stretched obscenely wide, eyes glassy with arousal. The picture is almost enough to do Eddie in, so he tangles his fingers in that hair and yanks that warm, wet mouth closer. Stevie's eyes roll back and he moans, and that's all it takes before Eddie is coming down his throat. 

Stevie doesn't so much as whine, just swallows. God, he's perfect. Eddie wants to take him home. Tie him up in bed. Never let him leave. 

"Wow," he murmurs as Stevie pulls off, slack-jawed and starry-eyed. "Are you always such a cockslut, or was that only for me?" 

Stevie smiles up at him. The glint in his eyes is smug. 

"Only if it's such a nice cock," he hums. "What's attached to it isn't bad, either."

Pretty, slutty, and a little bratty to boot? Eddie will just have to keep him. 

"Give me your number?" he mumbles as Stevie staggers to his feet, and leans in for a sloppy kiss. 

Stevie dances out of his reach. 

"No need to," he winks, unlocking the door and skipping his way out. "We work in the same office. I'll find you." 

*

Stevie does not find him, of fucking course. Eddie tries to put it out of his mind, goes to work as usual and does definitely not scan the crowds for that voluminous shock of hair. 

He's actually relieved when the holidays come. The floors are empty and nobody calls because they need their door oiled or their light bulbs changed. Eddie holes up in his basement and starts working on that new campaign. 

Until the phone rings and a bored receptionist informs him Mr Harrington's height-adjustable desk is broken. 

"The CEO?" Eddie asks dumbly. 

"No," drawls the receptionist, "The son." 

*

The office is spacious and bright and tastefully decorated. Eddie hates everything about it. The fancy adjustable desk is not plugged in. 

He's just under it on all fours, ass in the air, fingers desperately stretching for the socket, when the door opens. He quickly shuts down his monologue about overpaid dumbasses. 

"Hey, man. I'll be out of your hair in a second." 

"No need to hurry," says someone. "I'll just enjoy the view." 

"What the- ow, motherfucker!" Eddie whirls around so fast he cracks his head on the desk. "Stevie?" 

Stevie kicks the door shut, sips idly on his vending machine drink, and observes how Eddie clambers to his feet. 

"Said I’d find you," he smiles. Before Eddie can form a reply, he's being pushed against the desk and there's a tongue down his throat. 

"I- wha- wait!" He tries to pull away. Stevie keeps nipping at his throat. "Are you crazy? Harrington Junior could be here any second." 

"He already is." 

Eddie yelps and looks around frantically, half expecting to see someone lurking behind a potted plant. There's nobody there. 

"But it's just me and-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh my God," he groans. The mouth against his pulse grins. 

"Steve is fine." 

"You're the CEO's son," Eddie babbles. "I called you a cockslut, I-" 

Stevie - no Steve, Steve fucking Harrington, Eddie is so fucked - just shrugs. 

“I am,” he says easily. 

Eddie gapes at him. 

“The CEO’s son or …” 

Steve laughs in his face. It’s bright and cheerful and adorable and so fucking cheeky, Eddie wants to teach him some manners. Long, graceful hands are fiddling with the zipper of his overalls. 

“Listen,” he sighs when Eddie doesn’t react, just keeps gaping at him like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had an unexpected business trip to go on, but … I’ve been thinking about you the entire time. Let me make it up to you?” 

“I …” Eddie nods dazedly. Their lips brush with the movement. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Brilliant,” Steve says. Then, in one swift movement, he takes his drink and upends it in Eddie’s lap. 

Eddie gawks, heat pooling where the stain is spreading, tight and urgent. 

“Oops,” Steve Harrington deadpans, and gets on his knees. 

Maybe going to the Christmas party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

All my holiday drabbles

[spiderm444rk]

LOST IN TRANSLATION - mark lee smau

6) you found me thanks to my private twitter ? (written)

You’ve been staring at Mark for the past 15 minutes, ever since him and the blond guy came to hang out near the business building you’re currently at. Jaemin stretches out next to you, getting bored. To his disappointment, the blond guy left already, and Mark is not much better - he’s busy aggressively typing something into his phone. Boring.

“Why is he just… standing there ?” Jaemin frowns as he sips on his americano. “Why didn’t he go after the other guy ?”

You shrug, stirring your iced latte. “Maybe the blond guy forgot something and went back to get it so Mark is just waiting for him ? I don’t know.” You sigh. “This is useless. I can’t keep coming back every day but not do anything. Let’s just leave.”

“Hey, wait !” Jaemin elbows you quickly. “The other guy is back.”

You both lean forward in your seats (not very discreetly) and stare at them across the street. Mark is explaining something to the guy as he continues typing into his phone every now and then. Suddenly, Mark looks towards the cafeteria you’re sitting in with Jaemin and the guy follows his gaze, confused.

“Shit,” you curse, “do you think they noticed us ?”

“What would they even notice ?” Jaemin snorts. “They don’t know who we are. Is it a crime to buy a coffee in this area now or what ?”

“Right…” You tap your fingers against the counter as you watch the two guys talk.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Are we really just gonna stare at them or do you actually wanna befriend him ?”

You shoot him a glare. “You just wanna talk to the blond guy anyway. You’re not slick, Jaem.”

He smiles innocently and starts standing up from his seat, taking the coffee with him. “Maybe. But you’re getting what you want anyway, so stop whining and let’s go after them.”

You groan and follow him out of the cafeteria. “Oh God…”

Both guys were already turning around to leave but Jaemin quickly catches up to them and taps the blond guy lightly on the shoulder with the brightest smile. “Hey, do you mind if we ask you two something ?”

There’s a short, uncomfortable silence, where everyone except Jaemin is confused because - he’s just gonna go straight to the point ? No introduction ? No nothing ? Mark seems like he’s just seen a ghost, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you, and the blond guy seems even more shocked by seeing Jaemin than Mark is.

You awkwardly clear your throat. “Yeah, sorry to bother, we’re actually here to-“

“Are you guys going to the bus stop ?” Jaemin interrupts you, noticing Mark has the bus app open on his phone. “That’s awesome ! We were just about to ask if you can show us the way, but now we can just join you.” He chuckles, putting his hands into his pockets and getting in between Mark and the second guy. They both seem to be too speechless to protest right now. “I’m Jaemin by the way.”

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you. We’ll only join you if it’s okay of course. We don’t wanna bother you if you’re in a hurry or anything.” You say quickly, raising an eyebrow at your friend. This was his idea of befriending these two ? You barely introduced yourselves and they already look scared.

The blond guy blinks, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, I’m Jeno. And this is Mark.” He points to Mark. Wow, score. You guessed him right.

Mark is staring between you and Jaemin, visibly uncomfortable. “Yeah haha… you guys aren’t from here, right ?”

You shake your head, still sipping on your latte. “Nah. I do journalism and Jaemin does psychology…” you trail off after noticing how Mark curses silently. “Uh…”

Jeno puts his arm around Mark and smiles at you two reassuringly. “No worries. We can show you the way.” And then he turns around, starting to walk. “It’s really nice to meet you guys. Right Mark ?”

Mark swallows hard but starts walking along with you and Jaemin as all three of you follow Jeno. “Yeah…”

You exchange glances with Jaemin and nod at each other. Jaemin quickly catches up to Jeno, and you can already see his grin forming after getting a chance to talk to the guy. You roll your eyes and slow down a little to keep some distance between them. Mark avoids eye contact with you at all cost but also slows down, confused. “What are you-“

“You’re a business major, right ?” You say quickly, trying to get him to look at you and come off as friendly, but that seems to throw him off even more. You mentally curse at yourself.

Mark frowns, slowing down even more. “I… never told you that ?”

You blink. Fuck. “No ! I just assumed… we were near the business building…”

“Yeah, and you aren’t a business major either.” He argues back. “How did you know ?”

You sigh, pulling out your phone. “Yeah… I…” You show him the text message he (at least you hope it’s really him) sent you. “This is from you, isn’t it ?”

Mark finally looks at you properly, swallowing hard nervously before his gaze goes back to the ground. “Oh. Yeah, I wrote that.”

You smile victoriously that you guessed it right, but then notice his expression. “I’m sorry, is this weird ? That I approached you ?”

Mark kicks away one of the rocks on the ground. “I mean… How did you even find me ? And why ?”

You smile cheerfully again. “Oh, I saw your friend mention your private twitter under the post…” You pause, realizing you sound like a stalker now. “Like, I saw it as a notification when I tweeted the confession. And I was curious so I clicked on it… The friend wasn’t Jeno though. His name was H- something…?”

Mark closes his eyes. “Yeah. That’d be Hyuck. Great. And you found me thanks to my private twitter ? How does that even work ?”

You hesitate. Mark doesn’t really seem like you’d imagined him. You assumed he’d be more… outgoing. All members of The 7th Sense are pretty much extroverted and to think he wants to join them… But then again, you just randomly went up to him and started asking him personal questions. He doesn’t know you at all. “No, I found your other twitter and saw your pic… Look, what I’m trying to say - do you want help ?”

Mark stares at you like you just grew a second head. “Help ? Why would I need help ?”

“With the guitarist position. In The 7Th Sense.” You explain quickly. “I mean, it’s not just you who is mad about it. I’m trying to figure it out somehow. So, do you want to do this with me ? And maybe get yourself in the band ?”

Mark’s mouth opens ever so slightly in disbelief. “You went out of your way and found my twitter and tried to find me just to tell me you want to help me get into a band ?”

You look away sheepishly. “I mean… it’s okay if you won’t agree… I just thought, you seemed really desperate, and maybe I could help-“

Mark shakes his head. “No, that’s- I’m saying, why would you even want to ? You don’t know me. You’re not the one auditioning. I absolutely do wanna find a way to get them to open the audition for everyone, but like - what do you get out of this ?”

“A thrill ?” You shrug, grinning. “To be honest, I already helped a lot of couples who confessed in my magazine to get together, saved some friendships etc… changing the band’s minds is just like, another challenge for me, you know ? It’s exciting.”

Mark stares at you like you’re insane. “That’s… wow. I mean, if you really want to, I’m not sure how exactly do you plan to do this, but I’m in if you come up with something.” He pulls out his phone. “Can I get your number so we can talk about it later ?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, opening his contacts for him to go find your message and frowning slightly in confusion when you notice you’re saved as ‘magazine girl’. “You already have me… saved though.”

You both stare at the contact name for a few seconds in embarrassment, before Mark comes back to his senses and quickly puts his phone back into his pocket. “Right. I, uh, forgot about that.” He blushes, suddenly feeling stupid.

You grin at him. “Hey, it’s okay. At least we both have each other in our phone already, no ?”

“Why didn’t you just text me though ?” Mark asks, curious. “Why go through all of this when you could’ve just asked over text if you already had my number ?”

You blink. You didn’t think of that. “I… prefer personal approach ?” You smile awkwardly. “Besides, I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to respond to the anonymous confessions.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Mark laughs, feeling less awkward now. You’re not so bad after all.

“So it’s decided ?” You ask again, just to make sure. “We’re trying to come up with a plan to let anyone audition ?”

“That’s right. I really want to try for the spot at least…” He sighs.

“I’ll do my best.” You promise quickly. “I’ll text you when I find something. Or you text, too.”

“Bet.” He grins at you, thankful. “Yo, this actually means a lot. Thank you.”

“I’m not promising anything yet.” You laugh, and look up to see Jaemin talking intensely about something, gesturing wildly as Jeno just listens to him with his mouth slightly open. You roll your eyes at your best friend, stopping as you reach your destination - the bus stop. “Alright Mark, I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

“Sure. I’ll reach out to you. See you later.” He waves at you with a smile, before catching up to Jeno and basically dragging him towards their bus while smiling apologetically at Jaemin. Your friend quickly joins you after and you both watch as the bus leaves.

Jaemin turns to you. “Sooo… what the hell was all that about ?”

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A/N: i hope this was okay even though it’s written… 😰 anyways, updates will be three times a week from now on, which is monday, wednesday, and saturday ! :) thank you all for reading and interacting so far 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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༘♡ ⋆｡˚ taglist: @chenlesfavorite @injunnie-lemon @cyjzzl @morkiee @aek1ra @luvtyunn @nosungluv @mystverse @kittydollzz @6682dni @urslytherin @nanaxwi

[dandelions-143]

Sinners

Felix Masterlist

All member Masterlist

Pairing: non Idol, bad boy Felix x rebellious Fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, this one’s pretty tame. Intense make out session, a few dirty words, thats about it.

Wk: 3976k

Summary: Felix who is struggling with himself finds y/n at church of all places. With a rebellious attitude and a craving for adventure y/n joins him for a night of criminal activities. Things heat up between Felix and y/n but, as his obsession with y/n grows little does he know just how out of reach you truly are.

A/n: (there’s a lot of internal dialog/thoughts in this one) This one might be a bit of a flop… but I’ll let you guys be the judge of that. I hope it’s not too boring but, I wanted Felix’s fic to start out a bit softer than the others. I hope you enjoy it!

The Church was nearly empty as Felix walked through the doors. His long blond hair was pulled back in a low bun. His black dress pants along with his navy blue sweater fit him perfectly. He walked down the aisle, his hands plunged into his pockets.

The Catholic Church was a place he had attended as a child. His mother would bring him here religiously. It was a place that felt like home to him when his own home was too much. The marble floors clicked beneath his black dress shoes as he made his way to the confessional. After his mother left him and his father he still came. Begging his nannies to bring him back, then he just liked being away from his abusive father but, these days it felt like he was trying to find solace in the person he had become.

He took a deep breath before entering the confessional. Felix made the sign of the cross as he greeted the priest like he always did, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Felix simply confessed his sins as he always had. Some were the same.. stealing cars, laundering money, drugs, sex. He was not shy in confessing what was lying heavy on his heart and mind but, despite knowing and feeling bad about the things he does… he also lived for the thrill of it all.

He ended his confession with, “I am sorry for all of these sins and the sins I cannot remember.” Felix sat in the confessional waiting for the Priest to give him guidance but, there was a very long pause. “Father?” His deep voice was only above a whisper. Just as Felix began to think he had been talking to no one a very sweet and angelic voice spoke up, “Wow, you really do all that shit? Can I join in the fun?”

Felix’s brows went up in shocked surprise then down into scrunched confusion. “What? Who the hell?” He said as he opened his confessional door only to rip open the door next to his. A very pretty girl sat cross legged in a plaid skirt with a nirvana tshirt hanging loosely off one shoulder. As Felix looked down at you he noticed the end of what looked to be a scar running across your left cheek. He was instantly curious about it but, when his eyes met yours all coherent thoughts halted. It was like time stopped for him that is until you spoke up. Your big eyes widened even more at the sight of him, “Oh, you’re pretty.”

Felix faltered just a bit at your boldness and your beauty. “Who are you? Where’s the priest?” You stood up, smoothing your skirt out a little and took a step towards him. You were a little less than a head shorter than him. He smelled devine, Felix’s cologne wafting out in small floral tendrils around you. “I murdered him.” You said so matter of fact that for a second he wasn’t sure if you were joking or not.

You slipped past him and walked towards the back pews. Felix watched you walk away; his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he decided to follow you.

“Hey wait!” Felix grabbed your arm gently to stop you. Standing just outside the church doors now you spun around, an amused smile on your face.

When your eyes connected to his.. Jesus Christ he was pretty. You raised a brow waiting for him to say something. Felix finally let go of your arm like it had given him an electric shock. “Uhh, I’m Felix Lee.” He held out his hand for you, “What’s your name?” You smiled even brighter at him but, you didn’t take his hand.

“I like your accent, Felix Lee.” You said, a playful tone to your voice as you began to back away from him. Felix only smiled back at you as he dropped his hand to his side. You were walking away now, your back to him, “Hey! You gonna tell me your name?!” He shouted over the busy city street.

You turned around just long enough to shout, “Y/n L/n!” You walked backward for a few steps keeping your eyes on his before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

“Man.. she was.. she’s...just something.” Felix was leaned against one of the stolen cars from the other night. A deep blue mechanic’s suit on, half undone and a rag flung across his right shoulder to wipe his hands on. He was currently explaining his interaction with you that morning in the church to Han who was working on something beneath the hood of that same car Felix was leaning against.

Han poked his head out from under the hood so he could fix his round eyes on Felix, “You literally said two sentences to the girl.” Seungmin was behind the big metal desk they kept towards the back of the shop. He was filing away some papers that made them look like a legit mechanics shop but, it was all bullshit for the most part.

“Yeah but, there was a vibe, yah know?” Felix sighed and kept scrolling through his phone trying to find you on any and every social media cite. As Seungmin got up and began walking over to the two men the quiet garage was filled with a loud BANG! “Son of a mother fuck-“ Han was holding his right hand and jumping up and down. Obviously in pain.

“What the hell happened?” Felix asked as he walked over to Han’s side, meeting Seungmin in the process. “I mashed my finger trying to get those bolts out!” Han yelled at the pretty blonde and looked down to assess the damage.

“Let me see..” Seungmin took Han’s hand in his and looked at the now very red middle finger he had mashed. “You’ll be fine, just be more careful.” Seungmins soft yet steady voice seemed to calm Han a bit. “I’ll go get you some ice.

Han glanced over at Felix who was pouting at him, “Poor baby mashed his wittle finger.”

“If you would get your head out of your ass and help shit like that wouldn’t happen!!” Han raised his voice again only making Felix chuckle at his expense.

For two weeks straight Felix had attended every single service the church was having. He even made it a point to go to confessional almost daily in hopes that he would run into you again.

It was late in the evening as Felix sat out on the church steps. The church doors had long since closed and Felix was feeling a bit defeated. The man was confused at himself.. wondering why you were constantly on his mind. It was like he was addicted and he knew nothing about you yet.

Felix pulled out his phone in one last attempt to try and find you among the many social medias. As he was scrolling through the many profiles with your name a familiar soft, sweet voice immediately stopped his scrolling. “Stalking me now?” You stood next to him, in ripped blue jeans and an over sized black Britney Spears tshirt. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, only a few pieces of hair fell over your left cheek where the scar was.

Felix was on his feet so fast he almost stumbled over. “Y/n, hi.” He said with that very pretty grin of his. His brown eyes seemed to light up the moment you two locked gazes. “What are you doing out here? The church is closed.” Your eyes fully assessed him now. He was not just pretty but handsome as well. His freckles were the best part of his features you thought to yourself.

Felix laughed awkwardly and pushed some blond strands of hair out of his eyes, “oh yea, I was just um, killing time. I have a job to get to in a little bit.” Silence fell over you two for a beat, “but I could ask you the same thing.” Felix was looking at you as if he was seeing the sunset for the first time. A soft wonderment in his eyes.

You watched his full lips move as he spoke which made Felix even more nervous. Then your eyes dipped down to his neck seeing some black ink there.”What’s that?” You boldly reached over and touched the tattoo on his neck.

Felix’s mouth instantly went dry as the pads of your soft fingers lightly grazed over his heated skin. The feeling of you touching him sent little electric shocks directly to his dick. He didn’t even know you, yet you had consumed him for two weeks and now even his body wanted in on this. Felix’s mind was reeling. When you dropped your hand you mumbled, “Oh sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh! No! Uh it’s a dragon.” Felix laughed softly, “My Korean name is Yongbok. I just thought it was fitting.” You confidently stepped closer, tugging down his collar just enough to admire the intricate artwork tattooed there. “Yongbok” you said his name slowly, as if you were tasting it.. tasting him. Felix swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly in his throat.

“I like it.” You seemed to have decided on how you felt about it as you stepped back and placed your hands at your sides. Felix’s face flushed.. what was wrong with him? He never acted this way around any man or woman. People were usually intimidated by him. If not by his interesting look of androgyny then, by his very deep voice. But not you. Instead you were curious, intrigued, and not intimidated at all.

“Well I should be going now. It was nice to see you again, Felix Yongbok.” You had a soft teasing smile playing on your lips as you took a bow and turned to leave. “Hey!” Felix said a little louder than he needed to. He was a bit embarrassed but shrugged it off with a hand carding through his hair. “Do you want to come with me?” The question just tumbled out of his mouth before he could really think about what he was asking.

He really didn’t expect you to say yes but, you surprised the freckled faced man when you looked up at him with your big eyes and said with no hesitation, “I have nothing better to do, sure.” Felix hesitated for a split second, Chan was going to kill him. “Oh, okay. Um this way.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and lead you down the street to his car. A black on black Benz.

You whistled when you saw the expensive vehicle, “Oh so you have money, money.” Felix gave an awkward laugh and opened the door for you. He didn’t respond with words, only giving a little nod as he watched you get in. Your scent wafting up to him, sweet vanilla and a hint of something spicey. She even smells addictive… he thought as he finally closed the door and walked around to get in the drivers side.

He should be trying to figure out how to explain you to Chan but, he had other things on his mind. Like the way you crossed your legs, the way your hair was blowing about your face, that mischievous smile that seemed to always be painted on your lips.

As he took his time driving to his destination he glanced over at you every now and then. You seemed so confident and relaxed as you leaned back in his passenger seat. The window down, your hand outstretched feeling the rush of wind as he drove down the highway.

Felix cleared his throat, “So, tell me about yourself.” You looked over at him that little smirk stretching up one corner of your pretty lips. Fuckin gorgeous.. he thought. “What am I suppose to tell you?” You were not one for small talk. There usually wasn’t a lot to tell. Felix came to a stop at a red light. “Well.. where are you from? Your favorite color? Do you have siblings? What do you do for a living? Things like that.”

You instantly began to giggle. Not exactly at Felix but, you thought all of that was irrelevant. Felix felt his cheeks flush with slight embarrassment as he put the car in motion once again. “What’s so funny? Is there something wrong with getting to know you?” He asked just as he pulled up to a large white house.

Your soft laughter died down and you watched him for a moment. The silence was killing him, “I just want to know you, y/n thats-“ you cut him off with a finger pressed to his soft lips. You gave him an exasperated sigh. “You talk too much, handsome.” You moved your face closer to his. Your lips mere centimeters from his own, “If you want to really talk.. you can talk between my legs.”

Felix felt his heart pounding out of his chest. The shock of your words hitting him hard. He wanted to move in, pull you in and kiss those lips he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of. This close he could see your scar clearer despite covering most of it with your hair. He wanted to move that hair and press his lips to it so bad.

“Felix! What are you doing?!” Someone whisper shouted bringing him out of his thoughts. You moved away from him to get a better look at the man standing in front of the car. He was with six other pissed off looking men. “Are these your besties?” You asked sarcastically and got out of the car before Felix could make a move.

“Shit..” Felix said under his breath as he got out as well and walked around the car to your side. “Listen I know what you’re thinking but, she’s cool. It’ll be fine.” Felix tried to explain before anything was said. All of their eyes were on you. Judging you in a curious way except for one. The only one that spoke, who had dark short curly hair and tattoos covering most of him.

He stepped up to you and looked you up and down, trying to intimidate you. Then he moved over to Felix. His cold eyes boring into him, “I’ll ask questions later but, if she fucks this up you’re taking all the blame. You understand!” You furrowed your brows, who did this man think he was! You thought to yourself. You thought Felix was his friend not his minion.

Your eyes scanned the others, some of them had small propane torches, others had gasoline cans. “So let me guess we are burning someone’s house down?” You spoke up, interrupting whatever that asshole was saying to Felix. His head snapped to you and his eyes narrowed, “Why? You scared?”

The bulkier man began to walk closer to you but, Felix grabbed his arm. “Chan.” Felix’s dominant voice of warning made your eyes jump to him and a small throb in your core made you want to press your thighs together. “No..” you said as you walked past him, grabbing a torch out of Chans hand. “I want to be the first to light the bitch up.”

You kept walking as they all stared after you. “Well.. you heard her!” Felix said to Chan. Chans cold demeanor seemed to soften a bit and he shook his head. “Im killing you later.”

Chan led the way inside the house through the back, busting down the door. Felix explained to you that this house belonged to one of Chan’s father’s colleagues who had done him dirty. Stiffed him on some drug money or something. The family was currently on vacation and the owner of this home kept a safe somewhere in the house. Their goal was to find the safe, get whatever money was in there, set the house on fire, and leave.

The fact that Felix and his little gang were actual criminals made you like him even more. You knew this wasn’t a smart idea but in all honesty you didn’t care. Your life was horrible and you craved an escape… Felix seemed to be that escape.

Once inside everyone seemed to begin their search. Pairing off going in separate directions. You of course followed Felix upstairs into various rooms. It was dark but he kept a warm hand in yours, making sure you stayed close to him. The heat from his body made you want to be even closer to him and in the darkened bedroom you did just that.

You pressed your body into his side shamelessly. Felix stilled, whispering, “What are you doing?” You let go of his hand and even though you could barely see him your hands found their way up his torso to grip his shirt so you could pull him closer. “Have I ever told you that you talk too much.”

You didn’t allow him to utter another word because your lips were on his. Felix didn’t respond at first. The overwhelming reality of your lips on his.. he only sighed as if to say… finally. Just as he felt you pulling away it’s like he woke up and remembered to kiss you back.

His lips were not rushed but firm and oh so inviting. As you put your hands on his face he pushed you back into a dresser. Pressing his larger body against yours and you both fit together so well. As he gripped onto your hips firmly the room seemed to fall away. Felix had never been kissed like this before. He had never gotten lost so deep in a kiss. He felt like his heart was skipping beats. The space around you exploding with an instant connection.. addiction. His hands kept gripping you, pulling up your shirt to feel the smooth skin of your sides, he couldn’t bring you close enough.

His tongue slid deliciously over your own, tasting the sweetness that you were. Thoughts of tasting you in other places made him roll his hips gently into yours. A tiny gasp escaped your lips when you felt his hard erection through his pants which made him smile against your mouth. Satisfied he could get this kind of reaction from you. Felix felt as if he’d been starving.. the taste of you so intoxicating.

He had kissed many people before but he never felt a burn like this.. a deep yearning for more. His hands snaked up your ribcage to palm your breasts over your bra. He was rewarded with a soft moan, your head falling back to expose your delicate neck to his searching lips. Felix would have kept going. He had every intention of ripping those jeans off you, craving to see and feel just how wet you were for him. But, you two were interrupted by Minho’s annoyed voice, “What the fuck, Felix? You can get your dick wet later. We got the money, let’s burn this place and get out of here.”

You reluctantly pulled away from the man that just stole the sole right out of your body. You fixed your shirt and moved towards the door. “Come on, lover boy.” You acted as if you weren’t minutes away from fucking a stranger as you and Felix followed Minho down stairs.

Chan walked up to you holding out a torch, you looked at him confused. “You said you wanted it, right? Here you go.” You licked your lips and looked down at the torch. You were good at talking a big game but, you had never actually done anything like this before. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Y/n.” Felix said behind you, sensing your uncertainty.

“We don’t have all fuckin night..” the tallest in the group muttered as he eyed you. That was all you needed to make the decision. You took the torch from Chan and turned it on. The flame was orange at first but then turned blue as it grew hotter.

The guys had already doused the place in gasoline, you could tell by the pungent smell in the air. The few others that had torches as well followed your lead and went to various rooms on the bottom floor. One by one fires sprung up, rapidly engulfing the place. You all rushed out of the same door you came through and for a moment the entire group just stood outside watching the furious flames eat away at the once beautiful home.

Only when distant sirens could be heard is when everyone scattered. You and Felix rushed to his Benz and jumped in, peeling off. Adrenaline pumping through both of you. He was letting out excited yells as he raced down the darkened street, you laughing freely in his passenger seat.

“That was fucking amazing!” You yelled to him, the adrenaline slowly dying down between you two. He reached over and gripped your thigh, his eyes meeting yours and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You would be lying if you said you weren’t thinking it too. That heat that you felt earlier when he had his hands and lips on you returning.

It was so wrong… for so many reasons… but you wanted it. You wanted him.

“Do you wanna go back to my place?” Felix spoke softly, worried he may scare you off if he pushed too hard. You wanted to.. fuck did you want to but, you couldn’t. “Changbin, the bigger guy you met tonight.. he’s my roommate but, he won’t be home.” Felix clarified when you didn’t answer right away. “I can’t.. not tonight. Is it alright if you take me home?” You bit your bottom lip, wondering if this would be all you would see of him.

Felix’s smile faltered just a bit but, he recovered quickly. His sweet disposition making him even more handsome to you. “Oh sure, sure. Where do you live?”

You gave him directions to your home, it was nestled right outside the city limits. A small little house. It was your father’s but, he left it to you after he passed. When the car was parked by the curb outside you leaned in and gave him a small peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Felix. I had fun tonight. Who would have thought being a deviant would be so much fun.” That made him laugh, a deep chuckle you felt in your chest.

You began to get out of the car but Felix stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “Can I have your number?” His eyes were hopeful, shiny with confidence. You began to open your mouth when your name was being called. “Y/n! Aye girl! Where the hell have you been!” You sighed in frustration and got out of the car fully.

Felix watched as a man not much bigger in build than him come out of the house and stand on the front porch. Of course he was curious as to who the hell that was but you gave him no time for questions. You stopped at the drivers door leaning down to be eye level with Felix. “I’ll find you, okay?” You mumbled, giving felix a small smile but, it didn’t reach your eyes this time and you walked toward your house.

Felix felt a lump in his throat grow as the man grabbed your arm roughly the moment you were close enough. He jerked you up closer to him and drug you inside the house leaving Felix concerned and confused.

Was that her boyfriend? He instantly thought. Couldn’t have been her dad he looked too young.

Felix eventually drove off feeling uneasy and worried for you but, it wasn’t right for him to interfere. Not this early on. But he knew his obsession with you had already begun.

I hope you enjoyed this! Don’t worry the spice will be much spicier in the next parts to this!! Thank you for all the love and thank you for taking the time to read my works. Let me know what you think in the comments! ♥️🖤

Taglist OPEN

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[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Ok ok hear me out Four Brothers and One Crush but 2007 TMNT

Pretty Human In Danger (Angst/Cracky)

2007!Turtles x reader

A/N: This one is not exactly like Four Brothers and One Crush, since the 2007 turtles are quite a bit darker than the 2012 boys, but I hope this was what you wanted💚 Hope you enjoy💚🐢

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Warnings: Attempts of mucking, arguing and fighting brothers.

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Tension boiled just beneath the surface, as the four turtle brothers went out on their first training trip in years. With Leonardo’s return from South America came the old routines they used to have two years ago. Now, each brother had different reactions to this. Leo, who has spent two years trying to become a better leader, was focused. Distant but focused. Almost too focused for his brothers to keep up with him. Raphael was frustrated. He had now enjoyed two years of freedom, running through the nights as the Nightwatcher, not having to take orders from anyone. But with Leo’s return, he now had to step back in line, not that he intended to do so. Michelangelo was joyous, happy to have his oldest brother home once again, and even more happy to have something other to do, than to entertain wild children at birthday parties. Donatello too was happy to have Leo back home, and glad to leave his phone service job behind, even if he found himself mildly irritated by Mikey’s uncentered line of thoughts.

That night Leo had him and his brothers do pull ups on a water tower, wanting to see if they still had any strength left in their arms. And to be honest, Leo got disappointed. Mikey was the first to drop to the roof, complaining about the pain in his arms. Then it was Donnie. Once on the flat roof he laid back on his shell, trying to catch his breath. That left Leo and Raph in a silent competition, both wanting to be the last still doing pull ups on the water tower.

Mikey, who had grown quite bored with his two eldest brother’s competition, moved to the edge of the roof, deciding that staring down into the dark alley would be much more entertaining. And to Mikey’s credit, it was, just not in the way he had hoped for.

Down in the alley he catched a glimpse of a human, running in through the mouth of the alley. She threw scared looks over her shoulder, her fast breathing echoing against the brick walls, along with the shuffle of her running feet against the pavement. But that was not what Mikey noticed. At the sight of her he became blind to any signs of distress, his eyes focusing on the form of her figure. They way her hair fell, the shape of her lips, the curve of her nose, and the pigmented color of her eyes. She was absolutely beautiful.

“Woooow”, Mikey muttered, catching the attention of Donatello.

“What are you ‘wow-ing’ over?”, he asked, walking to Mikey’s crouched position. That was where he saw you, his eyes widening in the same way as Mikey’s had done, somehow not noticing your panicked expression when you realized you had hit a dead end. “Woooow”.

“What are you two dumb nuts ‘wow-ing’ about?”, Raph asked, fighting against the burning sensation in his arms as he pulled himself up one more time.

“There’s a hot chick in the alley”, Mikey said.

“Don’t objectify a woman, Mikey”, Leo said, not showing any signs of strain or tiredness, causing Raph’s frustration to grow.

“I’ll have to agree with Mikey on this one”, Donnie said. “She is quite good looking”.

Raph sighed out loud in annoyance, hanging slack in his arms before he forced himself to do another pull up. “Idiots…”

Four men emerged from the street, yelling out and pointing at you out at the end of the alley. You let out a sound of distress, backing up like an animal scared in the corner of a trap.

“Oh shit!”, Mikey exclaimed.

“Guys! She needs help!”, Donnie called out. Leo reacted fast, just like he had done through his time in the South American jungle, letting go of the water tower, just as Raph’s arms gave out, before making his way to the edge of the roof, katanas ready in both hands. Raph stood up from the roof with a grumble, rubbing his behind as that was what he had landed on, making his way to his brothers and the scene they were staring at.

The four men were slowly narrowing in on you, taunting you as they did, evil smirks plastered all over their faces. Leo had seen those kinds of expressions before in the jungle, remembering the men that had tormented the poor people that just wanted to live in peace.

“I got it”, Leo said, placing his foot on the edge, only to be pulled back by Raphael’s hand on the lip of his shell, as if he hadn’t just destroyed his arms on the water tower a moment ago.

“Hey, hey, hey, nooooo”, Raph said, pulling Leo back onto the flat surface of the roof. “Who says you get to save the pretty human girl?”

“I did”, Leo answered with a deadpan look.

“So?!”, Raph argued. “Maybe some of us know a thing or two about saving humans! Especially pretty ones!”

“You’re all weak and out of training”, Leo said, not noticing the way Mikey and Donnie exchanged glances, both having the same idea in mind.

“Weak?!”, the angry turtle yelled out, not seeing how Mikey and Donnie started pushing and pulling each other out of the way, both of them wanting to be the one to help you out. “Did you not see me up there?! You let go before I did!”

“I only let go because Donnie called for me”, Leo growled.

“For you! As far as I remember, he said ‘guys’!”, Raph roared, his hands moving wildly in the air above his head.

The two oldest of the turtles continued their argument as the two youngest continued their increasingly wild yet silent fight, about who got to be the first to go down there. The fight ended when Mikey bit down on Donnie’s hand, causing the purple clad turtle to let go of his brother in order to scream out in silent pain, jumping on the spot as he held onto his hand.

Mikey jumped off of the roof, landing just behind the four men, the thud causing all of them to turn and look, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the mutant turtle. Mikey smiled brightly at all of you, swinging his nunchucks around.

“Don’t worry, fair lady!”, the happy turtle said, posing like the superheroes in his comic books. “I will save you!” But he got no further in his hero actions before Donatello fell from the sky above, forcing Mikey down on the ground with a foot in his shell, only causing you and the goons to be even more surprised and confused. The men had had their run-ins with the Nightwatcher, but never had they been surprised by two… green… whatever they were.

“No, I was going to!”, Donnie said, making sure his brother couldn’t wiggle out from under his foot.

“Hey!”, it sounded from the top of the roof, where Raph and Leo stared down the people in the alley. Raph, not waiting for his brother’s order, Raph jumped over the ledge and down to the dark alley, followed by an annoyed Leo. It was here that the goons expected all four of the… frogs?... to jump on them, but they didn’t. Instead the red clad one went straight to the two others, a sharp finger pointing at them.

“If anyone gets to save the pretty human, it’s me!”, Raph yelled, poking Donnie so hard in the plastron that he stumbled off of Mikey.

“You?”, Leo exclaimed, turning Raph towards him in a sharp swing. “You’re impatient shell couldn’t save an unmoving rock, even if you tried!”

“You save a few animals in the jungle, and now you think you’re some kind of hero!”, Raph growled. “Step back, honor boy! If anyone gets to save her, it’s me!”

“No you don’t!”, Mikey yelled, now standing on Donnie’s plastron with his bow staff in hand, pretty much making it impossible for the turtle to get up off the ground. “I got down here first! I called it!”

“This is not a game of shotgun, Mikey”, Leo said, just before he heard the sound of a thud and a groan.

The four turtles looked in your direction, just in time to see one of the men fall to the ground, laying among the rest with you standing in the middle. Your stance wide and your fists in a fighting position. The brothers gasped when they realized what had happened when they had argued. While all the men had been distracted by the fighting turtles, you had taken them all down on your own.

“What a saving”, you mumbled, shaking your hand from the slight ache over your knuckles, not knowing how you had made their heart beat fast, heat rising to their cheeks. They knew you were good looking from the moment they saw you, but this caught them off guard.

[absgay]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ “Baby, we both know, that the nights were made for sayin’ things that you can’t say tomorrow day.” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

words count: 1,6K.

“Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now I’ve thought it through, crawlin’ back to you.”

warnings: 18+ minors dni, grammar, f*buddy!abby, college!abby, sexual tension, some jealousy, someone’s possessive, and idk i’m not good at this, smut.

previous part: heaven.

And, you remembered the next week, the aftermath, the awkwardness linked to it. On friday, you and your roommate were at someone’s birthday party, whose name you didn’t even know at the time.

It was fun, but Abby was invited too. You glanced at the blond from across the room as she talked with friends and flirted with others, as usual. You wouldn’t blame anyone who’d fall for her though, because you did it too, she was too charming.

“I need to use the bathroom.” you said to your roommate as she talked with someone on the couch, then walked away.

Abby’s eyes narrowed as she failed to keep up with your silhouette. “Shit.” she murmured as she drank, your body disappearing through the crowd. “I’ll be right back guys.”

She stepped in the hallway and looked around, strangers talking and dancing as music played loudly in the background. She went upstairs and waited by the bathroom’s door, an idea in mind.

You walked out and frowned. “Neighbour.” Abby said to start the conversation as you remained silent. “We haven’t talked since— You know.”

“I remember— I was there.” you responded, an amused look appearing on the blond’s features as you leaned on the opposite wall.

“You’ve never been so quiet before, it’s new.” You hummed, Abby’s smirk disappearing as she looked down at her boots. “Dammit— If I knew you’d stop talking to me afterwards, I would’ve had fucked you sooner.”

“How romantic.” Abby seemed perplexed by your ironic tone as you responded, arms crossed. “God— You’re such an asshole sometimes, I can’t believe I had sex with you.”

Abby was smart, really smart, when it came to an educational perspective. And then, there’s emotional intelligence… Abby was incompetent, inexperienced, sometimes insensitive. Truth is, she wanted to see you. She missed the arguments, the fights, your complaints, your smart-ass comments, your attention. She wanted it back, all of it.

But the last sentence went straight to Abby’s heart, stabbing it. “It wasn’t even good, anyway.” she sounded annoyed, which caught your attention but didn’t make the cut as your own heart stopped. “Let’s pretend it never happened.”

It hurt way more than it should’ve had. You couldn’t blame anyone but your stubborn selves, who didn’t want to admit that it was, in fact: fuckin’ incredible. But, it was meant to be a one-night stand, it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, anyway.

Your mouth dropped. “What the fuck is your problem— Who do you think you are, huh?” you asked, cheeks flushed as the blond’s smirk increased your annoyance towards her. “Seriously— You’re not that good either.”

Abby’s doubts disappeared as she noticed the distress on your face. “You don’t have to lie.” she said. “I might have hurt your feelings, but we both know you loved it.” You scoffed. “Yeah— You did. By the way, I still have your panties or more specifically, what’s left of it.”

”Keep it.” you responded confidently. “It might help you cum on those lonely nights, when you touch yourself thinking about me.” Abby laughed. “I bet you’ve thought about me while fucking other women.”

“Wow.” Abby mumbled, impressed by your audacity and insolence. She stepped towards you, eyes darkened and mouth craving yours. “You’re lucky we’re in public.”

There it was, the tension, the frustration, the animalistic need to tear the other one apart. You both stared at each other deeply, chest heavy with anticipation.

“Tell me— Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep flirting with me?” you asked, flustered by your sudden proximity. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, especially in bed.”

“Boredom.” Abby teased. She chuckled lightly as you rolled your eyes and sighed. “I don’t know. Why do you keep talking to me? I’m an asshole.”

“You’re right— I should leave, find someone else to talk to, to fuck with.” you said with an unsure tone, hot and bothered.

Abby smirked. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart…“ she responded, the woman’s sudden seriousness sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t share.”

There was something magnetic about Abby. A tall woman, who carried herself with so much confidence and arrogance with a sarcastic attitude, it was irresistible. Which means you always wanted to give in, no matter how much you truly despised her sometimes.

You remembered the blond’s rough touch, the murmurs, the sweet praises and caresses. You remembered the sensuality of Abby’s movements as she fucked you from behind, fingers buried into your flesh. You remembered the sheets and its the clean scent as your body trembled, then collapsed against the mattress, the blond’s weight consuming you entirely as she kept going, faster, deeper, harder, meaner… Shit.

Someone called your name. “No way— Hey!” A woman shouted as she headed towards you two, the tension dropping immediately. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

Abby sighed then stepped away from you. “Hey, Katherine.” you responded with an awkward smile. “Yeah— It’s been a moment.”

She laughed. “I’ve been dying to see you, it’s been way too long.” Abby’s eyes narrowed as the brunette touched your shoulder with an unbearable familiarity. “Look at you, still hot and cute.”

Abby hummed and looked away, fits clenched. She shouldn’t care, she doesn’t care, she doesn’t mind at all, fuckin’ Katherine.

“I was about to leave, but—” Katherine winked. “We haven’t seen each other in so long and you’ve always loved my motorcycle.” Abby huffed at the brunette’s words. “I could give you—”

“It won’t be necessary.” Abby interrupted. “If she needed a ride, she would’ve asked me.”

Katherine turned and looked at the blond with contempt. “She knows how to ride that’s for sure.”

“Wow— Okay!” you snapped, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It was nice to see you, I’ll text you later.”

Abby chuckled immaturely as you both stepped into someone’s bedroom. She felt relieved, so much better, meanwhile you were standing in the room with an annoyed frown and your arms crossed as you waited for an explanation.

“What the fuck? What was that all about?” you asked. “It was humiliating— You didn’t have to say anything.”

“Oh— Come on!” Abby whined. “Look at you, so hot and cute. We haven’t seen each other in so long— Oh, fuck me, fuck me.” You frowned and stared at the blond as she imitated Katherine’s voice and gestures. “She was annoying, too desperate.”

You laughed. “Oh my god, I knew it. You’re jealous—” Abby scoffed, then looked away. “Yes— Totally. You were so pissed the entire time, I saw it. You didn’t want me to leave with her.”

“Sure.” Abby huffed out a nervous laugh. “If you wanna fuck her, well then, do it.” You hummed unconvinced by the blond’s unsure tone. “She’s probably outside, waiting for you, on her Vespa.”

“Motorcycle.” you murmured, amused as she rolled her eyes. “I could fuck her— I could do it. I know she’ll be nice to me, unlike someone else.” Abby sighed. “You know— She’s been into me for two years.”

“I wonder why.” Abby said with insolvence. “She must enjoy disappointment.” Your mouth dropped once again. “I mean, from what I've seen— I don’t understand why she keeps coming back for something so— Mid.”

“Fuck you!” you snapped and stepped forward, the blond smirking as her back hit the wall. “I hate you, you’re such a—” you pointed at the woman’s toned chest. “You’re—” you swallowed hard. “You’re—”

“Tell me, sweetheart.” Abby murmured in encouragement. “Say it.”

You both sighed peacefully as your lips crashed against hers, eyes closed and hands reaching for each other’s bodies with an intense need to be closer.

Shit. Nothing about this moment was gentle or sweet, groans, moans and obscenities murmured between short breaths as you pushed against each other’s bodies, almost fighting. Nothing about Abby Anderson was soft and gentle, except the blond’s hidden feelings for you.

“Oh— Fuck.” Abby murmured as you kneeled, mouth swollen and braid messy from the kiss. “Wait— What are you— Shit.”

She looked down at you with so much affection, it scared her. But, she couldn’t help it, you looked so beautiful, all ready and needy for her.

You unzipped the woman’s pants, pulling it down, the boxers too. “I wanna eat you out.” you said with kisses along the thigh.

“Holy shit.” Abby breathed in anticipation. “Oh, fuck— That’s good.” she moaned as you held the blond’s thighs tight, your face buried between them. “Yeah— You’re so good at this.” You whined at the praises, your own panties soaked and ruined.

Breathless, Abby pulled at your hair and bucked against your mouth, groaning at each movement. “I— I’m gonna fuck your throat with my strap— Fuck— Yeah.” she moaned loud and leaned back against the wall as she came into your mouth.

You hummed in delight, all sweaty and messy. “Fuck— Baby.” she murmured innocently, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. “You’re so pretty like this— Shit.”

She stared at your fucked face attentively, your mouth opened as she brushed the cum off your bottom lip with her thumb, your pleading eyes asking for more. “Abby…”

She moaned pathetically as you pronounced her name with so much desperation. You kissed the blond’s thumb, teasing. “Suck.“ Abby’s mouth dropped in a sigh as she sensed the warmth of your mouth on her skin. “Holy shit— Good girl.” she murmured as you sucked on it, nice and slow, eyes filled with lust. “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Take me home.”

The second time, she didn’t let you go.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

[hazelfoureyes]

How are you so good at writing smut??? It legit makes my body warm all over and my brain fuzzy, you fucking smut wizard <3 do you have any tips on writing smut? Or just writing in general?

Thank you for such a compliment! 💖🥹This is mildly embarrassing-- but I really am so horny?? I am not playing a character. lol I am a goblin. When I watch porn (for pleasure) I just take in the sounds and the sights, really just going full art reviewer on that shit for inspo even when I'm not trying to.

"Wow his cock got so big suddenly, is he going to cum? his head his massive...omg he sunk it right back into that guy after he came?? he's still going!? DICKS CAN DO THAT?" *takes mental notes*

"Her hips kept pulling away there before she orgasmed, overstimulated a bit maybe, love how he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down" *jots down on my notes app*

"wow the way he said that-- jesus I just got dizzy I need to hear <whatever character> say that." *writes Luci saying that shit immediately* I am unqualified to give tips on anything, but I'll tell you what I tend to do! For smut; I just focus on sensations, I think. We can all see what sex looks like! Imagining the feeling of it, that's whats so fucking hot to me. Why is that man moaning? What is he feeling that is so good? What made her legs shake like that? Yeah his dick went into her pussy. Nice. But like---- was it warm? did his head get caught on the way in, popping past that unyielding flesh untrained to his size, just at her entrance? did the feeling of wet walls and a tight grip make him go weak for a second, mind blank?

For general writing; oh geez....I have a super visual brain, so I just try my best to describe what I'm seeing.

If it feels like I've forced someone to say or do something, then I back up and try again.

I wrote a part in A Doe in Fall part 4 that I had to redo; I had reader slap the detective when he suggested maybe she was hitting on him, a man coming to intervene making Brady get nervous and apologize before leaving all flustered.

But I realized--- no, this reader is too smart. She would never make a scene like that, she wouldn't know what might happen. What if everyone watches her then sit with Alastor? What if people notice and somehow remember seeing him? What if they recognize him? I loved the scene but I had to remove it. She would never do that, even if I loved seeing it.

I try to just shut down a little and see what my brain throws out unfiltered. It's really mentally taxing. I'm either 100% focused or I can't do it. I proofread maybe 6 or 7 times, or more. I don't stop until I get through it at least once without edits, and if I find myself bored of reading it, then I walk away for a second. If I am too disinterested to read it again for proofreading or just feeling the flow of it, then why would anyone else want to?

Hazbin Smut Masterlist I spent way too long rereading before posting

I felt this like this wasn’t helpful at all 😭

[osleeplessflowero]

It's been long enough, time to bring back some content for this series. I hope you all enjoy! (Also yay new lily divider! Gonna start putting these around my notes from now on :] credits are in the tags!)

*Notes - Reader Soultype: Bravery🧡 - Reader Gender: Ambiguous, They/Them pronouns by default - Horror goes by Sans - Context from the first two parts is needed for this one to make sense - Words: 3,906

☕Previous Part☕ 🎃First Part 🪓Oneshot Masterpost/List 💜💙 In-Progress Fics Masterpost/List💚💛

Content Warning: Swearing, Violence, Light Blood

A while passed since your coffee meetup with Sans. You've been texting each other pretty much daily, discussing this and that and getting a good laugh out of each other from time to time. He's been really supportive of you since your emotions from your breakup had started hitting you like a truck, bringing your spirits back up when they started to spiral. You really appreciate him for that..

At the moment, you're currently sitting in your living room and replying to the last message your skeleton companion sent you. The two of you had been having a long conversation about something obscure he found, before the topic shifted to meeting his brother, like you'd asked about when you went to go get coffee. Upon being informed, Sans said he was delighted at the idea, and wanted to invite you over for dinner. You eagerly accepted, but not without saying you'd want to bring something over as well.. call it a gift exchange. Perhaps dessert would be best, since he's really looking forward to making dinner.

Thing is, you have no idea what this guy likes, so you don't know how well your decision making could be..

i mean i could just go to the store with you if you need help picking it aint like i have shit to do

You perk up at his reply, grinning. That's perfect! If anybody would know what he likes, it'd be him. And it's an excuse to hang out a little earlier than expected.

sounds awesome, where should we meet? i could just come pick you up tho idk if ur comfortable with me knowing where u live i mean its not like youd be coming over to kidnap me lmao i dont mind sent attachment sick ok i think i know where that is ill be there in a few alrrr i'll get ready then

You hop up from your seat on the couch, walking into your room and picking out some warm clothes so you're comfortable outside. The air has definitely gotten more and more chilly after Halloween, and you're not quite sure if you like that sensation or not.

Hopping a bit to pull on your shoes, you hear your doorbell ring and drop your leg to walk over and look through the peephole. Sure enough, you're met with the skeleton waiting with a bored expression before you open the door.

"Hey! Wow, I didn't think you'd get here so quick." You muse, earning a chuckle from the skeleton as you step aside to let him in out of the cold. Can skeletons feel temperatures? You assume not because of the lack of skin.

He puts his hands in his pockets as he enters, watching you close the door behind him. "i took a shortcut, didn't take long at all. nice place."

"Thanks, it's nothing big, but it's home. That's all that matters, right?" You smile, walking to your bathroom and heading inside to fix your hair how you like it (if you have any, that is.) You leave the door open, glancing over briefly when he stands in the doorway to speak with you.

"yeah, doesn't matter what size. home's a home, anyway." His eyelight drifts around as he inspects what he can see, learning a little bit more about you from observing some of your favorite things. You give him a smile before exiting the bathroom, walking over to the front door to hold it open for him. He follows you out silently, and the two of you begin your walk down the street.

"So..does he like any particular kinds of desserts? Cakes, cookies, brownies, etcetera.. throw me a bone here." You hold up your phone and open your notes app so you can get an idea of what to look for.

"well, anything made from the heart's gonna appeal to him right off the bat. but if you wanna go for something he'll really like.. he loves sugar cookies. like the kind with icing, he eats those up when i get 'em." He smiles, thinking back to a memory. You nod, saving "sugar cookies" to your phone. If you're gonna bake, then it's gotta be something he'd love! That's one way to win him over.

"Sugar cookies it is! Any specific kind of frosting flavor?"

There's a pause. You wait patiently, but when Sans' reply never comes, you look up at his face. His eyes have gone blank, almost like he'd shut down.

"Sans? Are you alright?"

"just..hang on, i..i know it's in there. i know i can remember that, i know i can." He speaks softly, and you frown, stopping in place and stopping him as well.

"Hey. Don't worry if you can't remember. I'll figure something out, don't strain yourself. It's okay, Sans." You reach your hands up, placing them on his shoulders with a reassuring smile. His eyelight slowly reforms in his eye, warbling a bit before returning to its usual large shape.

"..okay. thanks."

You nod, leading the big skeleton along until you finally reach your destination: the grocery store. A nostalgic song plays as you both hear the doors slide open, granting you both access. Thankfully not too many people are inside at the moment, which gives you more room to look and gives Sans a bit more peace.

Seeing as you probably won't need a bunch of ingredients, you settle for a basket and begin walking to look for the baking section. Sans simply walks right beside you, ignoring any stares from other people inside.

"Okay, sugar cookies..I need a box with a mix..I'm not getting the frozen ones, I just wanna make these myself. I could get some red icing maybe, like strawberry? Or cherry? Is there cherry icing? I'm sure there is." You mutter to yourself as you walk, unaware of Sans' fond smile as he watches you talk, making sure to pay attention in case you ask him something out of the blue.

"I could make cute little patterns on them- ooor I could just cover them..I dunno, we'll see how I feel when the baking starts." You smile, reaching your hand up to try and grab a box of the mix you need, but frown when you can't reach it. Gonna need a step stool..

Sans leans a little over you from behind, putting a hand on your shoulder and reaching up to grab the box for you. You smile up at him, thanking him promptly as he shrugs it off. You should ask him to shop with you more often, it'd definitely be easier than climbing the shelves. You used to do that when you were younger, and had gotten caught a few times..well, you won't get caught again!

You look through some different cookie cutters, debating cutting the cookies into shapes, and if so, what shapes in particular to use. Your peace is interrupted when you hear quiet whispering a good distance away, furrowing your brows when you overhear what some people are saying.

Sans tries to pretend not to notice, but you can tell it's really starting to bother him..

You hold out your arm. He looks at you with confusion, raising a browbone.

"Take my arm in yours." You whisper, earning even more confusion. "C'mon, just do it!"

He holds out his arm slightly, and you take that as a cue to wrap yours around it, walking with him down another aisle. When you walk beside the few whispering, you glare daggers at them before looking over some different cookie cutters that are much more to your liking, wondering why they hadn't put them where you were. Poor organization..

Sans keeps his skull turned away, a mix of a blue and red flush covering his cheekbones as he avoids looking at your face. You don't seem to notice, which he's admittedly a bit thankful for.

"Okay! I think that's all that I-"

You hear your name being called, stopping mid sentence. Your eyes quickly dart over to the source, spotting him..

Your Ex.

Your grip tightens on Sans' arm. He snaps back to reality, looking between you and them before realizing. You glare at him as he approaches.

"So. One day you just ditch me out of the blue and now you're hanging out with monster trash. Man, I didn't think you'd stoop that low."

"Shut up. Nobody cares what you have to say. You're the only one who's trash here. Just leave me alone, and get out of my life."

"Woah, easy." He holds up his hands in mock defense. "Got me shaking in my boots, babe! So scary.."

"Yeah, still scared after we spooked the shit out of you in the haunted house?" You tilt your head, a sly smile on your face. His face darkens, and his brows furrow.

"Whatever- Look, you-"

"I just want you to leave me alone. The only reason you finally want to spend time with me now is because I'm gone. You had your chance with me, and now I'm spending my time with way better people. We are through, we will always be through, so leave me be."

"You really think a monster is better than me? You're kidding yourself! Just.. look at him. He's probably an actual axe murdere-"

You move before you can think, punching him square in the nose and watching him stumble. It isn't until you see his blood on your hand and his widened eyes that you realize what you just did, quickly ushering Sans away and pulling him to the checkout section. You have what you need, time to get out of here.

It's quiet as you pay, before you both leave the store. Sans tugs a little on your hand, so you stop, facing him as you calm your breathing down.

"..you okay?" He sounds a little worried.

"Yeah. I'm..I'm alright, now. Are.. you okay?"

"you just punched a guy for me." He states, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Well, yeah. I hate him and he was being a jerk, of course I did. Nobody messes with the people I care about." You grab some napkins from the bag, wiping away your ex's blood as you both make your way across the street.

Sans bumps your hand with his, so you unclench your fingers, allowing him to hold it. ..He's..never done that before. That's new.

Heat rises to your face, and you pray to anyone above that it doesn't show. That's all you need right now.

You enter your home, turning on the lights. "Just go wherever, my house is your house and all that jazz. I'm gonna wear something for baking." You smile, walking to your room. He gives you a thumbs up before you go, sitting down on your couch and covering his face with his hands.

Stars, feelings are complicated. You just made his soul do a somersault twice in a row without even meaning to. It's not fair, why does he have to feel so- conflicted?! He moves his hands down, groaning before taking a deep breath as you walk back in.

"Okay. You wanna bake with me?" You smile innocently, completely unaware of the rollercoaster looping around in his skull. He nods, walking into the kitchen after you, simply watching as you grab an apron and set the oven up for baking.

Several seconds of ingredient hunting later, you set everything out on the counter and get to work. Crack the eggs, add some butter, throw in some oil.. mix. You move around like a robot, earning an amused chuckle from the skeleton as he sits on the same counter to watch you, sending some ingredients over when you need them using magic.

Once you have the cookie dough mixed up properly, you smack his hand away once with a spatula to make sure he doesn't try and snatch any up. Your focus then shifts to the icing, making a bit of a mess as you stir. A bit of it lands on your face that you don't seem to notice, but a certain someone with you does.

"hey, c'mere." He slides off the counter with ease, making you stop in your tracks. He holds his hand up to your cheek, resting his thumb over a small bit of icing. He pauses for a moment, the two of you staring into each other's eyes. Heat rushes to both of your faces, his cheekbones erupting in a blue and red mixed blush as he raises his thumb to his mouth, allowing his mixed tongue to lick away the icing in question.

Oh. Oh man.

You avert your eyes when he does, focusing back on the icing. That's new. A lot of things are new today.

The tension eventually fades out once the cookies have been brought out, now cut into lovely different shapes Sans is sure Papyrus will love. He shares a few stories he can remember from the past, you happily listening along and sometimes replying with witty comebacks to his jokes.

Time flies, and finally the cookies are finished, ready to eat! You almost feel kinda bad that these'll be gone soon..but it'll be worth it if he likes them! You hang up your apron, grinning slyly when you turn back to Sans. He raises a browbone in your direction, when you place a small bit of icing on his nose. He laughs, a determined glint to his eye as he tries to get some of the leftover stuff on you, the two of you chasing each other around the kitchen before you erupt into laughter.

He looks up from the floor at you, and his breath hitches. You have a really nice smile..he should tell you that some time. Not yet, though. No..it's too soon for that.

You grin, licking any leftover icing on you and walking to your room to change into the clothes you'd set out previously for when you go with Sans back to his house. Alright, first impressions are everything! Gotta look nice for the occasion.

Sans stares at the ceiling for a little bit while he waits for you, trying to remember some obscure TV show he watched once as a child with his brother he just can't seem to put a name on. You eventually walk back into the room, determined and ready to go. You walk into the kitchen and grab the lovely bowl of cookies you baked, holding it under your arm.

"So, shall we walk?" You smile as he walks up to you, but then raise a brow in confusion when he shakes his head. Maybe he'd prefer driving? You didn't see a car outside, though..

"i know a faster way to get there, if you're okay with it."

"Sure. What is it?"

"hold my arm for a sec. you might feel kinda dizzy for a little bit." He offers his arm to you, and you accept it quickly.

"OkaaAAAY-" You panic when the ground disappears from beneath your feet, holding onto him tightly and squeezing your eyes shut. It is only when you're back on the ground that you open them, glancing around. ..You appear to be in someone's driveway, someone who owns a very lovely home.

"aaaand we're here. tada." He grins, letting you regain your balance. How did he do that? When did he learn he could do that? Why did he not tell you he could do that befo- that's how he got to your house so fast. Of course. A "shortcut".

"You're really amazing, Sans." You smile up at him, chuckling a little to yourself when he looks away. He leads you up the porch steps to the front door, knocking in a rhythmic pattern and waiting for a moment before it swings abruptly open.

"AH! Brother, There You Are!" The much-taller-than-you'd-expected skeleton exclaims, pushing up his glasses a bit so he can see better. "And You've Brought The Human Along With You! Excellent! I've Just Gotten Started On Tonight's Dinner. Do Come Inside! It's Certainly Much Warmer Than It Is Out There. Sans, You Both Didn't Walk, Did You? It's Easy For Humans To Get Colds!"

You both smile at his rambling as Sans reassures him that he used a shortcut to get here. He's a total contrast to his brother, a ball of energy to counter his brother's overall tired and "lazy" demeanor.

Papyrus gestures for you to walk in, you both promptly remove your shoes at the door when you see that there are a few pairs of boots there already. You can assume literally all of them belong to Papyrus, because Sans is usually either wearing slippers or sneakers.

"Ah! Where Are My Manners." He clasps his gloved hands together, grinning down at you. "I Am The Great Papyrus! I'm Certain My Brother Has Told You About Me Already." He grins, his braces shining when the light of the ceiling fan above him hits them.

You smile, moving one of your arms to hold it out to shake his hand, watching him eagerly grab it. "It's nice to meet you in person, Papyrus." You tell him your name, and he makes sure to remember it for next time.

"Sans told me you were really looking forward to making dinner tonight, sooo I thought I'd bake some cookies! We can have them after dinner's over with, and you guys can keep them for a while until you run out. And if you like them, well..I'd be more than happy to make some more."

Papyrus gasps, putting a hand where his heart would be, as if he'd been struck right through it. "Oh, That's So Kind Of You! And Fitting For The Occasion! You Can Place Them On The Counter For Now, There Should Be An Open Space."

You do as instructed, admiring all the lovely little details in the home. They certainly tell you plenty about the two, and the things they like.. There's a ton of pretty patterns in the wood in some parts of the kitchen, presumably crafted by Paps himself. There are some red gingham curtains gently blowing with the breeze from outside before he closes the windows, and you briefly catch a glance of a clothesline with drying clothes. Huh, Papyrus must be into cosplay. That's cool!

Sans spooks you, giving you a pat on the shoulder as he walks up to his room. Ooh..this gives you an opportunity to see it..you would hate to pry, though. Maybe another time you can. You'll definitely be visiting later.

Deciding not to pester him, you focus your attention on Papyrus, who's happily humming a tune you don't recognize and cooking up something that makes your mouth water.

"So," His voice catches you off guard, making you jolt. "How'd It Happen?"

"How'd..what happen, exactly?" You smile, leaning a bit on the counter to watch him work.

"How'd You Meet, And How'd You Convince My Brother To Think So Fondly Of You?"

"We met at a- wait, he thinks fondly of me?"

"Well, Of Course He Does! Don't Tell Me You're As Blind As I Am Without Glasses." He lets out a nyeh-heh, stirring something. "He Talks About You Quite Often!"

"He does?.." Your voice is soft when you ask, heat creeping back up to your cheeks before you shake your head to try and make it go away.

"Indeed! Now, I'll Repeat The Other Part..How'd You Meet? I'm Very Curious About That."

"Well, it all started when me and my..well, he's my ex now-"

"Oh, Is This Drama? Now I've Certainly Got To Hear About This. I Love A Little Bit Of Gossip." He grins slyly, and you let out a laugh before going into detail about everything.

Papyrus is such a lovely person to talk to, even if you have to repeat what you say a few times because of his hearing problems. You can definitely understand why Sans thinks so highly of his brother.

Speaking of Sans, he finally joins you both downstairs after a while, having changed into an almost exact replica of the clothes he had been wearing before but much cleaner. Look at him, getting dressed up for the occasion..

Papyrus finishes making his masterpiece, and you all sit down at the table together. It's such a warm environment..Sans cracking jokes, Papyrus groaning but making a few of his own in return..the two sharing fond stories from the past..Papyrus talking about his work and what he loves to do..you could listen to him for hours. The food is immaculate, and you fight the urge to groan with delight at the taste.

When dinner is finished, you send your compliments to the chef, and the taste test for the cookies begins..you stare with anxious anticipation as he inspects a skull-shaped cookie, amused by your choice before biting into it. Silence fills the room before he grins in your direction, putting his hands on his hips.

"This Is Excellent! You Did Wonderfully! Stars, I May Run Out Of These Within The Week! GAH!" He puts his hands on his skull, you and Sans letting out a laugh at his expressions.

"Don't worry, Paps. I'll definitely make some more for you later."

"Wonderful! You Simply Must Show Me How You Make Them. They're Exquisite!"

"Maaybe..but good magicians never reveal their secrets, do they?" You smile slyly. He gasps in understanding, before placing his fist against his palm.

"Right. Fair Enough!"

You don't realize how fast time flies when you're having fun. You could spend eternity with these guys, without changing a thing. They're both so much fun to be around, and..it's really nice, being surrounded by such caring people.

Before you know it you're sitting on the couch, listening to Papyrus ramble about scandals in the monster celebrity world, promptly gasping when you hear something shocking. Sans simply watches the both of you with a lazy smile, chiming in from time to time before you all focus on whatever movie's playing on the TV.

One movie turns into several..

You feel your eyes slowly close as you lean against something big and warm, relaxing with a smile.

Sans freezes when he looks down at you, holding his hands in the air and unsure where to put them. Papyrus scoffs, motioning for him to put his arm around you. Sans looks at him with an expression that screams "are you crazy?!" before Papyrus shoots one back, rolling his eyes and waving him off before whispering a good night to him and heading upstairs. Fuck. What does he do? He couldn't just..could he?

His eyelight darts around until it rests on your sleeping form. He sighs for a moment, before abruptly shortcutting to your house and ensuring that the doors are locked, reappearing in the spot he had been sitting in before. You readjust your position, getting even closer this time.. His face flushes again as he lowers an arm over you, unable to look away. Oh jeez.. Ain't this complicated? Well..lots of things are, aren't they?

Hearing your soft breathing leaves him feeling calm..content. He's..alright with this. He'll embrace the moment for a little while, while it lasts. He focuses on the screen, until his eyes begin to close as well..maybe a nap wouldn't hurt.