#and then you think about it again after a few months

[burymagdalene]

Covetous Cravings - S. Reid x Reader

Spencer finds himself sulking around in jealously for the first time after you regrettably tell him you have plans for the night. When surprising him with your presence later, Spencer realizes just how badly he missed you while he was away.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smuttttt...... (18+ pls pls) tags: Whiny & desperate Spencer, he's just very eager to please. virgin Spencer, munch!spencer, head (fem!receiving), coital takes place on Spencer's pretty Persian rug, jealous Spencer, fingering, heavy make out session, nipple play, handjob, panty sniffing, Spencer's POV! Dirty dirty dirty wc: 5.3k a/n: I've written "Spencer" so many times it doesn't sound like a name anymore. I saw this tweet and was inspired to write something related to the carpet picture. That's all. I don't even think of you that often.

Cold water washes over Spencer's tired eyes and rolls slowly down his wrists to the bottoms of his sleeves (that he rolled up to avoid getting them wet, annoyingly) as he frantically tries to wash away a strange sour feeling in his gut.

Upon looking into his mirror he gazes over the 5 o’clock shadow he’s garnered over the few days spent away in a small town in Delaware. He pulls in his lips and rubs over it with his finger tips. He doesn’t have the energy to shave it right now.

Spencer is currently harbouring a bit of a sourpuss persona, he knows this well. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than expected, leading him to message you as soon as he could about heading back to D.C. and seeing you again.

To his dismay, when he got off the plane and checked his crummy silver Nokia, that you’ve giggled at a fair share of times, the response he receives from you is… that you’re… busy?

Something about a group of friends at a late night cafe/bar getting together, he didn’t read all of it, pouting so much that he just closed his phone. Spencer is aware you had these plans before he asked to see you. Spencer is aware that he’s back from Delaware earlier than expected. Yet he’s still over his sink, face wet and cold, grumbling about your social life.

The two of you have been together for a couple months now, it’s extremely new, he knows you wouldn’t drop everything upon his arrival, but the whole plane ride home he imagined your ideas around hanging out once he got back. He got his hopes up too high.

He begins to reflect a bit, maybe a better word would be spiral, as he wanders back into his bedroom and unpacks his go bag. I shouldn’t be feeling lousy right now, he thinks. We’ve been dating for 2 months and 3 days, he had missed your two month anniversary while he was away. He couldn’t even text you that day because he was too busy. Should he even text about anniversaries like that? He’s so new to this he has no clue. 

Considering your dating timeline now he starts to worry. He’s inexperienced, almost completely… no, yeah, actually completely. He sighs.

You have been over twice, by all the beautiful luck he might have fostered in a past life, he has had the spine-tingling honor to have made out with you those two times as well. After a handful of museum and bookstore dates, even visiting your apartment once, the first time you shared a kiss was when he was showing you Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge, attesting it was substantial to the gangster film genre. 

When he felt your eyes against the side of his face during the best part of the film, he took a double take at you, seeing an unreadable expression in your eyes. He cringes at the memory of his confusion.

“Th-this part is really good… Pierre’s use of cinematic synecdoche here is perfectly timed compared to–” 

You had leaned in closely and started kissing along his jaw as he fumbled through the rest of his explanation till he tapered off into a whimper that was sealed with a kiss planted on his lips. He even reached to the coffee table in front of him while you were kissing to pause the movie, not wanting you to miss anything.

Spencer groans a bit at the memory, a little embarrassed, he now would recognize the signs you were displaying easier. He’s jealous of his past self, having you to himself so unabashedly. He’s jealous of his past time spent with you and he’s jealous of your friends right now who are hearing your laugh and smelling your perfume all night.

He sighs and flops down on his back to his bed. Spencer does not feel jealous often. He feels completely rotten and out of sorts. He thinks, maybe if he would’ve kissed you more suavely that first time you would’ve dropped your plans now. Maybe if he translated the French into English for you in a more sultry voice you’d skip out on a coffee with your friends. Maybe–

Spencer hears a faint knocking on his front door. He looks over at his alarm clock, 12:12 a.m., hm. He’s hallucinating for sure. Like a lonely old man who hears his late wife’s voice in the dark of his haunted halls–

Another tentative knock. 

He leaps up from his bed and races over to the front door with his legs moving so fast he feels like he’s in Looney Tunes. His heart starts pounding as he looks through his peephole to see a small blurry version of you shifting on your feet. He scrambles to unlock his door and swing it open. 

“Hi!” You smile at him, smelling like strong coffee mixed with whatever lactonic and spicy fragrance you usually wear that curls his toes. You step forward and give him a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. This springs him into action, wrapping his arms around your waist he mutters out a “wow” against your shoulder. Like he just won a sweepstakes. 

You pull away a bit, but Spencer's arms stay around you. “Is it okay I’m here? You never responded to my texts.” You give him a shy smile and he realizes as he was grovelling he didn’t open his phone again after you said you had plans for the night. 

“Yes! Yes,” he clears his throat… be suave. “Of course. Um. Was just thinking about you, ha. Come over whenever. Yea. Even if I say I’m busy, come over still, haha.” Shit. 

“Ah. Okay, noted. I missed you too, Spencer.” You giggle a little at him and walk into the apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind you. “What were you thinking about?” You muse. 

“Ummmm. Le Cercle Rouge.” Spencer clears his throat again. IQ slashed to 60. 

“The Le Cercle Rouge incident, right.” You laugh again and look over at where he’s standing with a blank face. “Oh. Are you sure it’s okay that I'm here? I know I said I was busy, so I’m sure you’re ready for bed now, especially after the case. Did that go well?” His blank expression has made you nervous, he notices, though he was just considering again the feeling of his neck being kissed for the first time in 24 years. 

“Please stay. A while, too. I’m not tired.” A pause with long eye contact. “The case went surprisingly well, hence the early arrival.” 

The curve of your lip pulls up in a smirk and he sees he’s convinced you fully now. You bend down and unzip the sides of your brown high rise boots, leaving you in your black tank top, skirt, and now kneehigh socks that create a monochromatic wet dream for Spencer. Though this isn’t a dream, he shakes his head from side to side to get rid of the distracting thoughts.

“Good.” You sit down fully on his red carpet now, trying to pull your last boot off. “You know, you were a really short walk from the coffee shop, I’m surprised you’ve never been. As soon as you texted you were back I kept trying to slip away as politely as possible.” You talk while struggling with the shoe.

Spencer takes a deep breath in and meets you on his carpet, sitting on his knees to pull the boot off of you, which was incredibly easy. You were pretending to struggle with it on purpose. Once removed, he sits back against his heels and pushes your knees together by your ankles.

“You walked?” He mumbled back. He would’ve picked you up. He should’ve just checked his phone, told you to have a good night like a proper boyfriend. 

“Mm, like five minutes. No worries.”

“Its midnight- I. I can always pick you up.”

You whined your response, “But you weren’t answering your phoneeee.”

Spencer rubs his face with his hands, covering his smile a bit and feeling his skin heating up. “I’m very glad you showed up anyway. Even if it scares me you walked alone this late,” he glances at you leaning back against your hands, knees still pulled together. “You look very pretty.”

“Really? Thanks. I thought so too. About you, I mean. You’ve got a little 5 o’clock shadow right now, you look really handsome.” You smile and let out an airy laugh. Spencer subconsciously rubs his face again. He’s not sure when these jittery feelings will go away, if they ever will. One compliment from you and he’s feeling a blush coming from inside of him stretch over to his skin. 

He remembers his petulance earlier, his flair for the dramatics. Whining over people other than him seeing you, cursing his past self for awkward conversations, so he leans over onto his hands and knees and kisses your lips. 

You hum against his lips, knees together against one of his sides, happy at Spencer's first time initiating a kiss between you. You sit up off of your hands now  so they can cup his face and pull him firmer against you. Taking one of his wrists from where he’s planted on the floor to the other side of you, you guide him to slowly hover over you. 

Spencer can’t help but let out a tiny noise, a moan, against you as his palms dig uncomfortably into his carpet. He feels you lean back against your elbows and swing one of your legs to the other side of him. Now, you are pressed flat against the carpet, legs on either side of his waist. Spencer slowly moves so he’s on top of your frame, elbows crowning your head.

Both times Spencer has had the pleasure of tasting you like this you have been straddling him on his couch. This is the first time that he’s been able to lay on top of you and feel his hip bones dig into you and your legs around him.

Woah. Your legs are wrapped around him, just like how he’s dreamed of having you in his bed. Legs squeezing helplessly around him as he buries himself in you. Feeling your chest against his as you arch up into him. He lowers one hand to trail it up from your shins covered in your knee highs that make him faint to your hip.

He pushes his crotch down a bit from where it was against yours, making it so the hard-on he’s now sporting is against the floor now. He remembers the visceral feeling of you kissing his neck. Immediately he’s moving down to return the favor. What starts in soft kisses escalates quickly to sucking and laving against your skin, face buried into the source of his wildest dreams, your perfume. 

Your hands are carding through his hair right now, nails scratching at him softly and he has to position himself a bit closer to the ground now to rub off some built up tension his cock is begging for. This is usually where you part.

Face buried in your neck he’s smelling your intoxicating scent and moaning against the skin. He feels like a wild animal smelling a pheromone filled scent gland. Spencer realizes briefly where he is and pulls up from your neck to stare down at your face.

Hair haloing around you, you’re feverish and pressed against the Persian rug he spent his first big paycheck on. You have a bit of mascara smudged under your eyes and the lamps scattered around his living room are highlighting you in a way so beautiful he moans out again softly. No friction, no kissing, just by looking at you.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he traces the line of your neck up and down softly with the tips of his fingers. “I almost drowned in my sorrows before you knocked on my door.” He leans back down and chuckles against the skin of your neck.

You don’t have exactly the same romantic thoughts in mind as you gasp out for the first time since he’s laid on you, “You feel so good against me, Spence. Wanted this so bad,” he stops kissing, breathing lightly against your neck as you continue. “Can’t believe I haven’t pulled you on me sooner.” He’s blinking silently hidden in the corner of your neck. He acts on a whim and bites down lightly against where your neck and shoulder meet and you squeal. 

Spencer was not prepared for the blazing eye contact he’d be met with once pulling away to look at you. Your tank top has ridden down, the top of your pink bra showing a bit and your hair is drastically more disheveled than when you arrived. He can feel his heart in his throat. He has to keep making you let out that sound.

You seem to notice his brazen eyeline and you take one hand to pull the neckline of your top down a bit, exposing most of the bra covering your breasts that are only slightly spilling out from all your wiggling. Spencer shuts his eyes like he’s in pain, but he’s actually moving his hips up and away from the floor so he doesn’t come in his pants right then and there.

A completely new and formidable heat spreads over him and into his loins. Never in his life has Spencer trembled with anticipation in this way. His skin is on fire and he’s struck with the overwhelming need to make you the happiest person in this world. He wants to have you shiver and shudder completely against his apartment floor, he wants to hear every moan and grunt until your voice gives out. He wants to fuck you with his mouth.

“Gah-God, baby,” Spencer moves himself away from you so that he’s kneeling between your open thighs, rubbing the outsides of your legs as he looks into your eyes. “My mouth. Um, can I use my mouth?” He lets out a shaky breath at the image.

You bite your lip softly at him, he feels like he just licked the screen on one of those old staticy TVs he used to have. “Use your mouth for what?” You half play coy and half ask in earnest, not wanting to jump to conclusions since you and Spencer have never taken off many layers together.

“I want to use my mouth to make you cum.” His face flushes immediately, your eyes widen in shock. He drags his sight down to where you lay in front of him. Legs spread open and skirt ridden up giving him an obscene upskirt of your underwear for him. Also black. He keeps his eyes there as you reply.

“Yeah. Please, please-” he whips his head up to look at your face again to engrain the image of you unkempt and nodding a desperate yes into his memory. He lightly reaches out between your thighs to briefly feel the bottom of your panties. He’s barely thinking, his first instinct was to gauge how wet you are, to compare it to how you’re going to feel later. You gasp sweetly and he moans in response, untouched, again.  

With this searing hot permission Spencer gets hit with a strong pietistic devotion towards you. There is literally nothing in his life that has mattered more to him right now than how the gusset of your panties stick onto you and that his tongue can finally be given the task he has thought about constantly since knowing you. 

The anxiety Spencer was expecting as a result of his inexperience is completely overthrown by a perfectly instinctual autopilot setting he falls into. The excitement of making you feel good, you letting him touch you in such a profound way completely overshadows the doubt of his expertise. 

Not that he’s completely clueless. Erotica classics hide in his bookshelves, copies of Anaïs Nin’s short stories, the detailed counts of female pleasure derived from biology books, decent sex education stemming from the countless hours he’s poured into literature. He’s fairly in tuned to what generally makes people crumble, he just has to try it out himself. 

Spencer starts at the top again. The push and pull between him and eating you out the way he’s craving will have to drone on a little longer as he starts kissing along the exposed skin of your breasts, not wanting to leave anything unkissed. How rude. 

You outstretch your neck to him and slide the tank top off yourself, leaving just your pink lace bra that's covering little of your nipples. Spencer fingers the straps briefly while taking in the sight of you. He cannot believe the cosmic circumstances that have led him to this moment.

“D’you like?” you mumble while watching him eye-fuck you. He almost feels sorry for how he’s watching your chest rise and fall but the way his dick is pulsing under the confines of his underwear allows for little words.

In fact, his hips kick a twitch forward at the sound of your voice. A siren song as old as time. 

“MmmIwanna,” Okay. Form words. “I wanna-” he pities himself enough to give up on that one and kisses along your chest again.

“Do what you want to. I want to feel you everywhere… I want you to touch me.” You seem to understand his dilemma. A once articulate tongue falls flat in such a frenzied situation. 

Spencer palms your tits through your bra properly now while kissing you sloppily. He feels the friction of the lace against his palm and your hardened nipple receiving the rough friction from it as well. He picks up on your whine against his lips and pulls your bra down by the middle of it, exposing your chest fully. 

You gasp against his lips and move your tongue against his as a thanks. Spencer lets out a tiny “ah” from the back of his throat when your tongues meet. To regain composure he takes the nipple he was palming through lace earlier and rolls it between his middle finger and thumb, it’s your turn to kick your hips up for friction now. 

He decides to lower his hips against yours fully for the first time, desperately searching for that debauching pleasure that he was avoiding earlier. His dick rests nicely under your belly button and you bite his bottom lip when he’s fully settled against you, he feels sort of proud. 

Feeling your body completely pressed against him in this way makes him mourn every second he’s been with you and not made you moan in happiness like he is now. Wishing that the pesky virginity he’s carried with him this long will be taken by this angel underneath him right now. His cock twitches against you at the thought of it.

He stops fiddling with the nipple and instead moves to hold one of your hands with his as his other hand moves to rub your neglected nipple. He subtly grinds a long and slow rhythm against where you two are pressed together and you make a curious noise, a full moan caught before getting let out. Nudged in your throat as you hold it in.

Spencer thinks for a moment and smiles at the realization that it sounds almost exactly like how you hold back a laugh in your throat. A small and choked out “hngh” high pitched before its snuffed out. He thinks of any future endeavors where he gets to hear you hold back a laugh in a quiet museum or library from one of his stupid jokes. With this comparison he’s going to be pathetically hard in so many more inappropriate situations now.

“Please, can you please take my panties off.” You mewl gently, almost as if you’re worried he will refuse, and break him out of his thoughts. Spencer nearly forgot how lost in his head he was while methodically rubbing your sensitive breasts and grinding against you. 

“Pretty girl, I’m sorry.” He really is, he never wants you to feel so desperate you have to beg for him to touch you, but without interference he could probably sit for eight hours straight playing with your tits to see if you could come from it. He whines out loud at the thought. “I will, of course, I will.”

The feeling of him peeling himself off you feels tortuous. However, it is very much a high risk, high reward scenario when he looks down between your thighs again to see a wetter fabric clad to your hips. Spencer leans towards you, pushes your socks down slightly to kiss the tops of each of your knees. You giggle and he nips the inside of your leg slightly. 

It’s dizzying, the experience of pulling your panties down for the first time. Every night where he has sloppily fucked his fist thinking of your smile lines and pretty hands, every evening after you’ve left his apartment well kissed has finally led to this life altering moment.

Your panties have been slid off and he’s got an iron grip on them as he’s staring at you fully exposed, the translucent liquid smudged around your cunt. He’s trying incredibly hard to not push them up to his nose and inhale, he thinks he’s done enough animalistic sniffing and grunting at you tonight. He places them neatly on the couch instead. 

“Baby, Spence, you’re a voyeur.” You laugh at his staring gently, he assumes 25% of this experience for you has been watching him stare bug eyed at every inch of skin you’ve surrendered. He lays down flat on his tummy, sucking in air through his teeth as his dick presses against his carpet through his slacks again. “Feel sensitive, that feels like a lot?” You ask softly down at him. He flushes, embarrassed a little that you notice him the exact same way he notices you. Spencer pinches his eyebrows together and nods.

“Feels.. real good though.” He laughs gently at himself as you groan and rest your head back down on the carpet at how sweet he is.

He wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs to pull your pussy closer to him, your skirt riding up to your belly in the process. He feels you squirm a little under his arms and kisses the skin above your hip flexors softly.

His heart skips a beat when he’s up close to you, a sliver of doubt creeping up along with the immeasurable need to make you feel good. Spencer takes his tongue out and licks a broad stripe up from right below your opening to above your clit. This is more for himself, actually. He wants to taste every single drop you expelled from him kissing and touching you, it’s what he deserves.

Spencer's arms immediately have to resist against your thighs moving shut, using a bit of his strength to keep you open as he does it again. This time he moves his head slightly side to side. The whine he hears coming from your lips makes him take one arm away without thinking to hold your lips open and wraps his lips around your clit.

The open window you get without one arm suspending your leg allows you to close one thigh to the side of his face while the other is still pried open by him. He continues to suck gently, pulls away and lifts up the skin covering your clit, kisses it softly, you let out a pitiful sobbing noise and Spencer sucks your clit again, rolls it between his lips.

You help him out by taking your other thigh away from his face and holding it up yourself. “Wh-who taught you to do this?” You squeak out giving him a sense of confidence he’s been desperately striving for. Spencer cannot bear to part from your cunt to reply so he just hums lowly against you, hoping that you get his message of I daydream about doing this to you every waking moment through the vibrations he’s emitting.

He feels you rock your hips against his face greedily and he smiles a toothy grin against you. His perfect pliant girl, he couldn’t be happier to have your wetness rubbed against his nose as he dives into you. 

Wanting to escalate the scenario a bit, he’s internally pleading to feel you cum against his face, Spencer begins to suck harshly and suction onto your clit intermittently. The loud “fuck” you whimper out and how your torso isolates to twist to the side as you keep your hips in place is a good indicator that he’s making you feel good. This is a dream.

“Hh- mmmm” you cry out and Spencer flickers his gaze up to your face. You’re scrunching your face like a sweet bunny and have one hand up and posed above his head, waiting to push him away, the pleasure so strong you have to implicitly prepare yourself to shove him away when it gets to be too much. He moans highly against you.

The hand you had defensively propped up begins to lightly push at his face, he smiles at this, suctions your clit through his lips and runs circles over it with his tongue, your hand falls limply to your side.

“Fingers- ah, fingers!” You manage to gasp out one more plea before sucking your lips in and moaning deeply against them.

You seriously do not have to ask him twice. Being able to feel you twitch and grip around his fingers while he sucks on your clit has him pushing himself against the floor. The bordering on painful stimulation he’s getting from using all his body weight to hump his carpet sends tingles up and down his spine. As you said, sensitive. 

Spencer starts by tracing your entrance with his middle finger, he slips in easily just by doing that, your slick and his spit making the intrusion incredibly easy. He wastes no time pulling his finger up against your g-spot and slips in his ring finger alongside it, rubbing slick circles inside of you.

The noises your cunt is making from his incessant sucking and rubbing could probably be heard from any of his neighbors walking by his front door. He gasps hotly at this thought, what are you doing to him? Has he no shame?

You’re riding his face and fingers again, mumbling intelligible sentences. God, his cock hurts. 

“Baby, close, don’t stop-” The angelic words fall from your mouth and his ears perk up like an owner saying her dog's favorite words to it. Spencer continues exactly what he’s doing against you and looks up at you again through your back arching.

He can feel you twitching and senses you’re done for. If only he could talk and eat you out at the same time, he wants to call you pretty until tears come from your eyes. You gasp wetly and come all over his fingers.

Your thighs clamp against his head and he lets you do whatever you need to do to his face to get off. He’s rubbing soft and soothing circles against your hips as you hiccup through your orgasm.

You open your mouth as if you have something to say, and close it again, shuddering out a breath of air. Spencer pulls away, he can talk again.

“My good girl, thank you. I mean, you tasted so good… you’re so pretty, my pretty, oh my god-” He’s got a lot on his mind right now.

Spencer watches and follows your movements as you sluggishly sit up to kiss him, moving your tongue against his in an eager display to taste yourself against his lips, he whines again, feeling your warmth against him. When you palm him through his pants Spencer stutters out a pornographic “hnnn”, the friction from his rubbing against the floor has left him painfully needy.

“Can I take your cock out baby?” You ask against his neck. Spencer is aware of the embarrassing uhhuh uhhuh he releases as he scoots back against his couch. You don’t bother teasing him, taking out his red dripping dick from his pants and underwear and you don’t even giggle when it makes a whip sound as it taps against his skin.

He actually has to close his eyes after watching you whine in overstimulation as you collect your come from yourself to use it as lubrication to jerk him off with it. He’s genuinely going to pass out.

With a mouth open to the shape of an “o”, Spencer has an onslaught of tiny gentle noises that fill up the room alongside the skin slapping sound of you jerking him off. You touch the crown of his dick and one of his arms shoots out to brace himself against the couch. 

He accidentally grabs your panties he placed on the couch earlier.

Not thinking, he grips onto them and you kiss his cheek. “Want em’?” You tease. “My panties are in my top drawer next time you come over and want to snoop around.” You joke further, a red flush of humiliation covers Spencer's neck and chest. He slowly moves his grip on them over to his nose. Too far gone to have the same self-control he had earlier to set them aside, he finally indulges in taking in your scent.

He’s somewhat expecting more prodding and teasing, but you just continue to kiss over his face softly. He’s so thankful.

There’s no surprise to the fact you have him coming especially fast. Spencer feels his legs twitch and he sets down your panties to kiss you properly as he finishes all over your fist. 

As he comes down from this unexplainable high he is struck with such a tender feeling of affection towards you his eyes water. You notice and scoot onto his legs and lap and wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Not letting go until you feel him chuckling against you, you ask him how he feels and he sighs out dramatically. He’s so exhausted now.

You shyly offer to wet-vac his carpet once you guys move to clean yourselves up and he breaks out into a laughter that makes his stomach hurt. You eventually join his contagious laughter at the situation.

Spencer’s suggestion for you to stay a while is accepted with open arms. You spend your first night together wrapped up in each other's embrace. Being back in his own bed with you here settles his mind so gently that within three minutes of his head hitting the pillow he’s out like a light. 

In the morning when he wakes up for work he rubs his nose softly all over your face to wake you up. Spencer offers that you stay in his bed and sleep more or he can drive you back to yours before he heads over to work. He ends up driving you home so you can get ready for work yourself. Once you’re back home he finally opens up his phone again from last night to see a picture of yourself you sent on the walk to his apartment last night with the text under it “Had to come see you anyway, hope the doors unlocked mwahaha”.

He finds himself smiling at his missed message all day at work and once he’s seated back in his car to go home later that day he finally finds the “forgotten” panties you left on his passenger car seat when you left this morning.  

Spencer flushes then pockets them before texting you that he is in fact not a voyeur or a perv and he did not put your panties in his pocket and he is not asking you to come over again tonight so he can cook you a pasta dinner before he lays you out for him again, hopefully on his bed this time.

[maskedbyghost]

part 3 of Simon marrying another woman. tw: violence, mental health struggles, torture, mentions of death.

Your breath caught in your throat. Time seemed to slow as Simon raised the gun to his head, his hands steady on the trigger.

But your voice cut through the silence, even though it felt like you couldn’t move at all.

"Do it, then. If that’s really who you are."

His hand froze, the gun still on his temple.

His eyes snapped to yours filled with confusion. It seemed like you weren’t good at this.

You moved a bit forward, eyes locked on his. "But don’t pretend this is strength. Don’t act like this is the man who’s led us through hell and back. The man who doesn’t quit."

His grip tightened for a second, then stopped.

But you didn’t stop. "You think this is how it ends? You, sitting here while everything burns down around you? That’s not you, Simon. You fight. You endure. That’s who you are."

He still kept looking at you.

Another inch closer. "So go ahead. Pull the trigger. But if you do, you’re not the man I thought you were. Not the man who kept us alive when it mattered."

The gun trembled in his hand, lowering just a fraction.

Your voice was low that Price, who was still standing behind the two of you, barely even heard. "Or you can drop it. Stand up. And prove me right."

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Then, the gun slipped from his grasp, landing with a thud on the floor.

Simon slumped back against the wall and you felt like you could finally breath again.  

You didn’t move closer. You didn’t offer comfort.

You just stared him down.

And that was enough. For now, at least.

A few days since that night things were quieter, but you could still feel the tension deep iside you. Simon had begged Price and you not to tell anyone what had happened—what he'd almost done. You still remember the panic in his eyes as he requested you both keep it between the three of you. Price had agreed, but only if Simon promised to see a psychologist.

The terms were set. Simon would keep up with the therapy, or he would retire early. But Simon didn’t resist; he knew it was his only chance to avoid the fallout, to start dealing with everything.

You hadn’t tried to talk to him much since that day. You gave him space. You knew it wasn’t your place anymore—not after everything. There were moments when you’d catch him in passing, but your gaze would quickly drop to the floor, avoiding the awkwardness that had settled between you both. He didn’t reach out either, not that you expected him to. Simon was good at keeping everything locked away, just like he had always done.

You saw him during briefings, his eyes weren’t the same anymore—not the man you once knew. But that was something he had to face on his own. You weren’t going to intrude. You couldn't.

And the thing that hurt the most? He still didn’t talk about her. You knew she wasn’t in the picture anymore, but he never said a word about their relationship, not to you or anyone else. He’d simply let it go, as if she had never been part of his life.

As if she didn’t ruin everything.

You didn’t ask. You couldn’t. Maybe it was better that way—both of you pretending like that chapter never existed. But, deep down, you knew better. You knew Simon had his reasons, and you didn’t need to hear them.

You didn’t expect anything from Simon anymore. You’d let go of that hope months ago. But you knew the team was watching, concerned. Soap had asked you about it a few times, always in his own way. He never pushed, but you could tell he saw what was happening, saw how it affected you. But none of them pushed. None of them knew what to say.

So you stayed back, kept your distance. If Simon wanted to get better, if he wanted to talk, you’d be there. But for now, you had to let him find his own way.

A few days later as you walked into your room, you tossed your gear aside and slumped into the chair at your desk. But something caught your eye, a small folded piece of paper sitting on your desk.

A letter.

With a deep breath, you picked it up, your fingers trembling as you unfolded it. The handwriting was unmistakable, Simon’s familiar handwriting filled the whole page. You felt a pang in your chest before you even read the first word, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I don’t know how to do this love, but I need to tell you. The therapist says I should, and I think I have to. You deserve to know the truth

It’s not easy to admit this, but I’ve been living a lie. She lied to me, twisted everything in my head, and I let her. She fed me so many things—things about you, about us, about my life—that I didn’t even know what was real anymore. I don’t know how to explain it, but I believed her. I believed everything she said. She was my childhood friend after all. I thought I was doing the right thing when I left you, when I walked away. Oh, what a fool I was.

The night I left... that fucking picture. She showed it to me. It looked real—too real. You and him. Another soldier from the squad. She said it was proof. Proof that you were with someone else, that I wasn’t the one for you. She made it seem like it was your betrayal. I was hurt, so damn hurt, and I couldn’t think clearly. I didn’t want to believe it, but I did. She had everything lined up, a story that made sense.

And then I left. I told myself I was doing the right thing. I thought I had to walk away, that maybe it was for the best. She was there for me. She comforted me, and I was angry, so angry. I didn’t want to be angry with you, but I couldn’t help it. I thought you’d done something you clearly hadn’t. And I couldn’t even tell you the reason. What a fucking idiot.

And then she kissed me. She kissed me first, and I didn’t stop her because I thought it was a way to move on. Maybe it was the only way to forget, to forget you and the happiest period of my life. And when she started saying we were dating, I let it happen. I thought maybe this was the right choice. Maybe she was the one I was supposed to be with.

Then came marriage. She kept talking about it, about us being a family. And for a while, I didn’t know what to think. I thought I should just go with it, that it was the only way to keep going forward. But I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with her. I told myself I needed time, maybe because she wasn’t you. It was never the same. I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t do it.

She understood at first. But then one night, she started giving me alcohol, glass after glass, trying to push me into something I wasn’t ready for. She thought if I was drunk enough, maybe I’d forget you. Maybe I’d forget all of it. We kissed that night, and in the middle of it, I said your name. Your name. I couldn’t stop myself. And that’s when the fights started. That’s when everything I’d been avoiding came crashing down.

Then, that day when Price found me in my office, someone came to me. Someone from the team. I never thought they would be the one to speak up, but they did. They told me the truth. About her. About that picture. It wasn’t real. She had it photoshopped. She hired him and made it look like you and that soldier were sleeping together.

And when she asked for more proof, she wanted him to photoshop something with you and Soap. She thought if I saw that, I’d really walk away from everything, from the team, from you. She wanted to tear us apart, and I couldn’t see it.

And then he told me the that she had been cheating on me. She had been with him the whole time, and she’d used the pictures to manipulate me. She wanted me gone from the team. She wanted me out of your life. And I lost it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told her to pack her bags and leave. I told her it was over.

I konw don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I have to say it. I’ve been living a lie, and I hurt you because of it. I let her make me believe you betrayed me, and I walked away without ever giving you a chance to explain. I was wrong. I’ve spent months lost without you, and I know now that I can’t move on from you. I’d get on my knees for the rest of my life, begging for your forgiveness if that’s what it takes, because I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll spend every day proving I’m worth it.

Please, love, tell me how to fix this, please let me love you and be a part of your world again.

Still yours,

Simon.”

Your heart felt like it had shattered and been pieced back together in the same breath. The betrayal, the lies, everything she had done—it wasn’t just him being reckless; it was her plan all along. She had played on his emotions, fed him exactly what he wanted to hear, and made him believe you’d betrayed him.

The man who had once been yours, and in so many ways still was, was telling you everything—his pain, his regret, his desire for you to be in his life again. But the past still lingered between you both.

You sat there for a long time, the letter crumpled in your hands, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. Simon had been lost, and you had been left behind in ways you couldn’t even fully understand yet.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

You didn’t waste any more time. You folded the paper with shaky hands and made your way to Simon’s office.

The hallway was quiet as you approached the door, your footsteps louder than you wanted them to be. When you reached it, you didn’t hesitate. You pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges made Simon look up, his eyes meeting yours after many days.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you at first. For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, looking at each other.

Finally, you broke it. “So, you’re begging now,” you said, your voice sharp, filled with all the anger and hurt you’d been carrying. “After everything. After you walked away without a single explanation!”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The anger you’d kept buried for so long spilled out.

“You left me, Simon,” you said, your voice now shaking. “You left me without a single word. You let someone else twist your mind, made me out to be the villain in your life. All I ever did was love you, and you threw that away like it didn’t even matter.”

You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. Not now.

“You don’t get to just come back and act like nothing happened! You don’t get to ask me to forgive you after all of this, after everything. How the hell do you think this works? You think you can just walk back in and everything will be fine? It doesn’t work that way, Simon!”

He didn’t interrupt you. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching you, his eyes full of pain. He just took it, and it made you angrier.

“You ruined everything! You destroyed us!” Your hands balled into fists at your sides, and you paced in front of him. “And now you want me to believe you? To trust you again? To just let you back in like you didn’t break me? What do you want me to say, huh?”

Still, he didn’t speak. He just watched you with that same, haunted look, his jaw clenched.

And then, slowly, he started moving. It was almost too slow to notice at first, but you caught it—the way he stepped toward you, the way his feet seemed to drag across the floor.

Before you could say anything else, he was in front of you, kneeling down, slowly lowering himself onto the ground until he was on his knees. It made you freeze. For a moment, you thought you’d imagined it, but there he was, on the floor, looking up at you with nothing but regret in his eyes.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, your voice almost a whisper, still raw from the firestorm of words you’d thrown at him.

His head tilted down, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. “I’m serious about begging,” Simon said, his voice soft. “I’ll do anything. I don’t care what it is.”

Your heart raced. This wasn’t what you expected. It wasn’t some desperate plea or just empty words. He was on his knees—literally on his knees—in front of you.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Simon continued, still looking up at you, his eyes full of an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time. “But I can’t live with what I’ve done to you, not anymore. If it’s the only way to make things right, I’ll do it. I’ll beg. I’ll spend the rest of my life on my knees if that’s what it takes to prove I’m sorry.”

You stood there, staring at him, your chest tight. You’d never seen him like this. This wasn’t the Simon you knew. The man you’d loved, the man who had always been strong, never one to show vulnerability like this.

But here he was. On his knees, asking for a chance. And you didn’t know if you were ready to give it to him. Not yet. But with everything that he was saying, the sincerity in his eyes—it hit you harder than anything else.

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It felt like a lifetime before you finally spoke.

“Why?” It was all you could manage.

Simon’s gaze never wavered. “Because I don’t want to live in the lie anymore. I don’t want to be the man who hurt you. I want to fix it, if you’ll let me. I’m begging you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

And before you could speak, before you could even think, Simon’s hands reached out and grabbed at your legs. He pulled himself even closer, his face pressing against the fabric of your pants, his breath shaky against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, his voice breaking with each word. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.”

He held on, his arms around your legs, his forehead pressed against you like he didn’t want to ever let go. The sight of him, once so strong, now so broken, made something inside you stir. You hadn’t expected this. This wasn’t the man you thought you knew.

“Si?” You said, your voice barely audible.

“I’ll do anything,” Simon muttered, his grip tightening. “I swear, I’ll do anything. Just... please, let me fix this. Let me make it right.”

He stayed there, kneeling, holding you, his words still coming in soft, broken whispers, and all you could feel was the weight of everything—everything he had done, everything he was asking, everything that had been broken between you two.

He just continued to apologize, and you stood there, staring down at him, unsure of what came next.

A few days later, the feelings between you and Simon had settled, at least for now. Things weren’t perfect, but they were different. You could talk again—really talk—without the anger clouding everything.

He was still Simon, the man who had been by your side for so long, but now there was space between you, a new kind of distance. Friends again, not lovers, but it was a start.

You found yourself standing in his office again as Simon worked through paperwork on his desk. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper filled the room as he glanced up at you.

“I’ve got the divorce papers ready,” Simon said, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’ll send them to Price, and he can take care of sending them to her.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment. “I’ll take them to Price myself,” you said. “I need to see him anyway.”

Simon looked at you, a slight nod of approval. “Alright. Thanks, love.”

“How about we grab a cup of coffee after? Just as friends,” Simon added, his voice still soft, hopeful.

You thought about it for a second, then gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He smiled, just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was real.

As you turned to leave, your hand reached for the divorce papers on Simon's desk. Simon didn’t stop you as you picked up the papers and walked out of the office, the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hallway.

But as you made your way down the corridor, instead of heading to Price’s office, you turned down a different hallway, towards the abandoned building on the other side of the base. It had been years since anyone had used it, but you knew it well enough.

The old building creaked as you descended the stairs, the air heavy with the musty smell of decay. You could hear the sound of your boots hitting the concrete floor as you entered the basement, the space cold and unwelcoming. But there, in the corner of the room, hanging from a noose, was the woman who had taken everything from you—The bitch.

Her body swayed slightly as you approached, the dim light casting long shadows over the room. You stopped just in front of her, the cold fury building inside you.

You grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down from the ceiling, letting her body fall to the floor with a thud. She was still warm, her fingers twitching slightly as you knelt beside her.

"You're going to sign something for me," you said, your voice cold, deadly. "With a hand that's still functional though... before I kill you."

Her lips trembled, but she didn't say anything. She couldn’t. The pain and fear were clear in her eyes, but it was too late for her now. You knew what you had to do.

With a sigh, you reached for a pen. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” you whispered, ready to sign her fate.

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

Once I click post now I'm running away. I'm scared haha

what do you guys think????

@daydreamerwoah @postm0rt3m @blacpiink @nightunite @surprisinglydreaming @shybasementtree @foxwitch666 @snaaaaaaaaaked @somethingsaladsomething @massivescissorsthingperson @abbeyskeff @a66-1 @mortem-writes @jupitersmoon167 @blankk3 @yxfairyrx @balletbiscuit @pickyourpoisonandevolve @emilia527 @midgalaxysparkle @0bonnie-bunny0 @kittygonap @babybimbo777 @johnnyshoe @probably--possessed @iloveoutlinesiswear @lucienofthelakes @foxintheferns @mamamayhem36 @sxnshinebxcky @keiva1000 @rain-likes-purple @piconico17 @sai-int @soosouyoung @cobyjackkkkk @dvmbk1tty @angstdaddy

[sloaneispunk]

“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)

teacher!in-ho x you

when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.

he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.

but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.

in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.

eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.

he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.

he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.

you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.

“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.

“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.

lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.

as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.

“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.

as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.

“get up, nerd.” you heard.

you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.

“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.

the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.

by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.

“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.

“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.

she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.

“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.

“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”

“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.

“thank you.” you blushed.

“that was really kind, what you did there.”

“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”

“you’re a good girl, y/n.”

oh.

“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.

“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.

“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.

they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…

no, you were.

you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.

the interaction he had with you kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.

you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.

the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.

by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.

however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.

what he was excited about? he didn’t know.

he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.

the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrigued.

“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.

in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”

“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.

time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.

his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.

maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.

after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.

but you didn’t.

someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.

“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.

you took it as a sign to leave.

as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be interested in the conversation.

“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.

somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.

god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.

‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.

he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.

in-ho went to sleep that night with you and only you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

weeks went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.

within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.

as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.

when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.

he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.

his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.

what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.

it messed with his head in the best way possible.

furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really turning you on?

if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.

he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.

if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.

he wanted more.

[crrtite]

Thinking once again.. gosh this is so fun

cw: he’s weird AGAIN, rude Simon, masturbation mention (Simon), reader is nice and gets no love back (that they know of, heh) 18+!!

Simon who’s so standoffish around you, seemingly irritated by small things you do, almost like your mere existence is a nuisance.

You have a question to ask that you maybe were given an half-assed answer to a few months ago? “Y’already know the answer. Listening will do you good.” Paired along with his intimidating gaze, his eyes laced with irritation.

Or maybe you try to make some small talk with him. You’ve known each other for months and he barely holds a conversation with you unless it’s necessary, and even then it’s the bare minimum. Nothing really cordial or friendly about him.

You find him in a common area, doing your best to be charismatic in a way you think he’d like based on how he gets along with Johnny, since they seem to be close even though they’re basically opposites.

Your attempt ends with him walking away while you’re speaking, your mouth slightly gaped and face a bit hot from embarrassment.

A few weeks pass, and you find yourself at your wits end. Why does he seem to tolerate everyone but you?

You decide to pull back, opting to scoop up what little dignity you have left and leaving him alone because it’s clearly what he wants..

Little do you know, Simon is always watching you. Especially now that you’ve started to avoid him, he has to find a way to get his fill of you.

He’s a bit annoyed with you, honestly. You got him addicted to your sweet voice and your awkward attempts to be nice and how your eyes would dart around for an exit when he wouldn’t respond… and now you’re just… gone? Irritating one, you are. He loved watching you squirm. He’s always liked sweet things that get nervous around him.

No worries, he’ll just have to make you come back to him. Treat you better this time, let out a huff at your dumb jokes, maybe let you sit on the same couch as him.

After all, fisting his cock to old interactions between the two of you and the thought of your perfume isn’t working anymore. Simon knows how to make it better, knows what you need. You just need him to give you a bit of attention, and he’ll have you in his grasp once again.

[reginamillls]

this AU has been floating around in my head for months where Buck is a dog groomer, and Tommy has a service dog that needs a hair cut

* * *

The sign says closed, but Tommy pushes past into the darkened front office. There's light coming from the back, illuminating the front reception area just enough that Tommy has no trouble seeing. There's some music playing as well, a song Tommy doesn't know well but could hum along to the memory.

There's a tug from his arm, and Tommy scratches at Charlie's ears before bending down to unclip her leash. She isn't on duty right now, but still, she sits at his side, waiting for permission to go.

"Go on," Tommy says with a smile, and Charlie goes off into another room. Tommy follows at a slower pace. This is the third time that Evan has allowed them to come in after hours, and Tommy appreciates how much calmer everything is.

When he gets into the grooming room, Evan is sitting on the ground with Charlie between his legs, giving his dog a lot of well deserved attention. Charlie is on her back, paws in the air, tail wagging enthusiastically as she takes in Evan's attention. Briefly, Tommy entertains his desire of wishing Evan would give him all of his attention as well, but Tommy pushes those feelings aside. Charlie adores Evan, and Tommy doesn't want to take that relationship away from her.

"-the most beautiful girl in the whole world," Evan is gushing, his hands in Charlie's thick fur. He looks up when Tommy comes in, and his smile is just as bright for Tommy as it is for Charlie.

"And how is her owner?" Evan asks and Tommy feels like he has to catch his breath under Evan's attention. "Not the most beautiful girl in the whole wolrd, but I'm okay," Tommy lightly teases and he's rewarded with Evan laughing slightly, the sound warming Tommy up. He looks away, noticing the bandanas hanging up on the other side of the wall. They're all tye-dyed by volunteers for when Evan does free grooming for local shelters to help adopt out some dogs. Evan does a few himself and gives them out to his clients.

He wonders what color Charlie is coming home with.

"Thanks again for the after hours," Tommy says. It's Charlie's fourth appointment with Evan total and her second one after hours, the accomodation more for Tommy then Evan. Tommy tries to make it up to Evan by leaving a large tip that he knows goes straight to the volunteer work anyways.

"It's not a problem," Evan says and he gets up on the floor to the tub. Charlie follows and hops in without further instruction and Evan pets her down on the side, complimenting her again. The rest of the appointment goes with Tommy sitting at the shair while Evan gives Charlie what he calls the "princess treatment" and Tommy smiles at the commentary. Evan takes a few photos for his page and promises to send them to Tommy as well.

All the while they chat about their days, more Evan then Tommy, but it puts Tommy at ease and he appreciates just how easy it is to be around Evan.

Soon - too soon, it's over and Tommy is grabbing Charlie's leash and admiring the beautiul green bandana that Evan had set aside just for Charlie, and he's ready to say leave-

"Hey so, I was thinking," Evan says as he finishes up Charlie's paperwork. "There's this new hiking trail that I've been on a few times, and I think that ah- that Charlie would like it," Evan ducks his head before looking back at Tommy with his bright blue eyes. "And well, you too."

"I like hiking," Tommy says and internally he winces.

Smooth Kinard, real smooth.

But Evan's smile grows and Tommy can't help but return it.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What would the first years be like after 10 years?

What comes after Ever After?

You’ve seen Ace around on TV, but it’s the first time in a while you’ve gotten to see him in-person again. He’s become a jack-of-all-trades entertainer, host of his own variety show, stand-up comedian known for his cruel honesty, and master of magicless magic tricks. There’s not a day where you don’t see his annoyingly bright smile lighting up TV screens.

You’d think that 10 years would have made Ace a little more responsible and mature… Nope. He’s still a sunny and laidback kind of guy, but his sense of humor is still every bit as mean as it was back then, and he won’t hesitate to greet you with a familiar quip. Ace claims he’s “young at heart!” and “still a sparkling youth~!”

The fame has given him a bit of an ego and enhanced his vanity. Ace gloats about his connections in the show biz (did you know he interviewed THE Vil Schoenheit the other day?) and dresses in expensive brands.

He was bratty back then, but now he’s got carefree playboy vibes 😭 The kind of guy that laughs easily, that you feel comfortable talking to—but also the kind of guy that’s hard to pin down himself. Ace is nothing if not charmingly noncommittal in the tasks he sets out on.

When it comes down to it, Ace is loyal to the bitter end. He still has your number and regularly talks with you and Deuce, even pouting and whining if he goes a few days without a response. Ace insists he only does it because he “can’t forget the little people”, but you know it’s just a bluff.

It’s been a long journey for Deuce, but he has at long last achieved his dream of becoming a magic marshal! He’s a policeman in an elite force that tackles magical crimes (though he started off his career as a mere meter maid). He wears his badge proudly and stands a little straighter whenever it is on display.

Not much of an asset during investigations, but you bet your ass that Deuce is always up for chasing, cornering, and cuffing criminals! He's the muscle of his squadron, but also the heart of the group and the only guy willing to play good cop.

He prefers to patrol on his magical wheel as opposed to a police car. Deuce finds it so much speedier—and plus, he gets a rush of adrenaline whenever he’s revving up that engine and chasing down bad guys. If you want a ride, all you have to do is ask! Your old buddy would be more than happy to give you a lift. (He pulls over to help little old ladies cross the street.)

His earnest and hard-working nature have made him popular with the local mothers and grandmothers, who keep trying to gift him free food or trying to introduce him to their single relatives. The local delinquents also look up to him, affectionately calling Deuce their aniki. (On his days off, Deuce goes into schools to talk about his job and how he turned his life around, trying to serve as a good role model in his community.)

He carries around a photo of his mom and another photo featuring you, him, Grim, and Ace in his wallet. Deuce is in the habit so that he’s always got a piece of his beloved family and friends with him. They’re his good luck charms, and he credits them for his success in the force.

Jack is a personal trainer and coach! After his time at NRC, he was inspired by his upperclassmen and wanted to become the kind of person that’s able to support others in their growth, the very same way his own senpai did for him. Jack wants to continue that cycle for the next generation!

He has a reputation for being the “scary looking instructor with a heart of gold”. It takes his clients a while to get used to his face, but he supports them relentlessly and his results are definitely undeniable. Jack works with people of all ages—from kids to the elderly—and instills in them an eagerness to stay active. Some of the athletes Jack works with even went on the compete internationally!

His moral compass is still going strong. Jack actually tries to introduce a new value every month (like “valor”, “compassion”, “honesty”, etc.), incorporates it into training, and encourages his clients to take the time to reflect on what that value means and how they can practice it in their own lives. In this way, Jack not only strengthens their bodies but also enriches their minds and characters.

He maintains a lot of the habits formed around NRC, including going to bed at 10 pm on the dot and waking up at exactly 6 am every day for a protein-packed breakfast and a morning jog. More recently, Jack has added smiling practice and tail control to his regiment. He wants to be more approachable and to get a leash on that telltale wag that gives away his true feelings.

In spite of his best efforts, Jack visibly perks when he’s praised. The walls around his heart have relaxed a bit with time, and he has left the door open to let others in. He plays on adult team sports in his free time, or jogs and lifts weights with a partner spotting him, then they grab a bite together after. A good workout demands good company too, right? You should join him sometime!

He has settled back home in Harveston and helps out with the Felmier apple business! More specifically, Epel is the magical botanist of the family. He concocts various enchanted fertilizers and potions to help produce be at its best or to make the work easier for his village’s aging population.

Epel makes the long treks with his granny to the closest city to Harveston in order to sell his family’s products. (Travel by broomstick is faster than bike!) He hawks their goods like a real pro, his hollering reaching several blocks down. And if anyone gives his granny trouble, he’ll be there to give’m a good time whoopin’!

Thanks to Vil’s training and advice, Epel’s pretty comfortable in his own skin. He knows how to best weaponize his looks to get in an unfair blow in a fight and to make the most sales at the market. A fake smile, a little giggle, and he’s got his enemies disarmed and swooning, customers lining up for blocks, etc.

Unfortunately, he never got that growth spurt he was hoping for, and nor has he bulked up much. Epel's not exactly happy about the circumstances, but he tries to take care of himself in his own ways. For example, it may not be practical to stop and reapply sunscreen every 2 hours at the peak of apple-picking season, but he's got a wide-brimmed sunhat and gloves for the occasion!

His manners are impeccable! ... Well, given the right context. Epel knows when the common tongue is more appropriate (say, for a sale or speaking with tourists), but for friends, he'll bust out his warm and hearty hometown dialect. It's his way of letting you know he sees you as an important part of his family! Come, come! He’ll happily welcome you into his home and feed you to your heart’s content.

Meet the new Chief of Cybersecurity at S.T.Y.X.! Ortho works closely with his older brother (who has assumed the mantle of director from their father) and provides the highest levels of protection possible for their facilities. Along with overseeing security, he also vets and grants clearance to visitors to the Island of Woe.

He looks completely different thanks to his new and improved Cerberus Gear, specially designed to resemble the form of an adult! Combined with 10 years’ worth of knowledge and experience, Ortho has grown up mentally too, so he feels that he fills out this new gear quite well.

He’s accompanied wherever he goes by KB-RS01 and KB-RS02! Ortho has formally adopted them as his canine companions (humans would call them “pets”), but they also help him with surveillance as extra pairs of eyes and get paid in head pats.

He has mastered the art of imitating emotions and can now even synthesize others’ voices! Ortho uses these capabilities to play the occasional prank on the S.T.Y.X. researchers—it keeps the job interesting, and the employees love him for being a fun boss, the one spot of sunshine in the Island of Woe.

His protective functions have been upgraded! Check out this enhanced power laser beam, and all of his new gadgets and gizmos and extra attachments. He’s a one man army, so don’t cross him!

Sebek has achieved full knighthood and serves as one of Malleus’s right hand men. Along with his fellow knight, Silver, they protect Briar Valley and the noble Draconia bloodline. (Baur apparently cried at the knighting ceremony, but will deny it if you ask.)

Gone are the days where he would parade around shouting, “HUMAN!!” and belittling non-fae. Well… Okay, he still acts arrogantly, but there’s significantly less arrogance on the basis of race. Oh, he’ll still grouse, but he’ll also shout at you to aim for greater heights—he knows you’re capable of more than this.

Even though Sebek continues to respect Malleus a great deal, Sebek’s no longer so naive as to idolize his liege. Malleus is fallible and probe to straying into the darkness. Sebek sees that now. And when that happens… his loyal knight will be there with a firm hand and a thunderous voice to direct him back on his path.

He has developed a deeper appreciation for his human father, but won’t openly voice his affections out of embarrassment. Some would call this tsundere behavior— Instead, Sebek will (lovingly?) nitpick and find convenient excuses to help him out when applicable.

Still trains and reads diligently! In fact, Sebek has started a new record keeping initiative back home. That way, the people of Briar Valley can write down history, read it, learn from it, and keep from repeating the mistakes of their ancestors. He has also taken it upon himself to bring in reading materials from beyond Briar Valley to share with the youths of the nation. Sebek hopes that by spreading this knowledge, the next generation will open their hearts and minds to other cultures and races.

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: Two

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Content > language, tension, subtle (?) flirting, the faintest of touches, far too much eye contact, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 4.9k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——Now that you are engaged, time has never been more of the essence. You have six months to wiggle your way out of this arrangement and only your half-assed, last-minute plan to act off of. 

Who would have thought? The princess of the Eastern Nation requesting a harem just before she’d accepted Naoya Zenin’s proposal... It’s hardly been twenty-four hours since and yet word has spread all over. It’s the title of every article of news in everyone’s hands the morning following, a fact that comes quite present to you as one of these newsletters is tossed down onto a table before you.

“Care to explain why I retrieved this from my letter carrier this morning?” As a lecture from the third person this morning makes its approach to you, the letter in question lands on the table you find yourself seated at with a loud smack.

You’ve got your hands neatly met at your lap whilst you take a dramatic moment to pause and think about how you should go about explaining things this time around. You’d already had to deal with both your mother and father since you woke up and shortly after that array of scolding, you were sent off to the next person able to give you a mouthful concerning your impulsive decision from the night prior… Masamichi Yaga.

You swear in another life he could’ve very well been a professor of some sort because his voice quite tires you after some time. 

Given that, as your fingers intertwine and tumble over one another, you puff out a sigh of frustration and roll your eyes around the room, “I’m unsure of what it is you want me to say. Have my parents not already explained to you what I’ve explained to them?”

Yaga’s got two hands splayed out against the lengthy mahogany wooden table positioned only a few inches in front of you, with his head all angled to the side, and eyes narrowed to the utmost scrutiny toward you. It takes you a few moments before you actually meet his piercing gaze and even as you do, you only find your eyes falling to study the rest of his face shortly after.

He’s quite older than you and his age shows through his facial features, despite the commonly envious clear skin he possesses. Just as you find your eyes meeting his neatly kept facial hair, he interrupts your staring (again) with a huff, “I think it foolish of me to ask your parents what exactly was going on in your mind when you requested a Harem from your soon-to-be husb—”

“And I think it foolish of myself ever to allow any sort of marriage between me and the Zenin man to take place.” You cut off all in one solid breath. “Word of my Harem request has spread faster than the proposal itself. Does no one in this godforsaken palace find that not the least bit bizarre??”

For a moment, he falls quiet. A hold of eye contact passes by between the two of you before Yaga starts sighing again, “Perhaps that is because no one understands why you would request such a thing in the first place.”

You let off a short scoff, “Oh my word, you all care more about my request than my fiance himself! If he accepts and allows it to be, why can the rest of you not follow suit in silence?”

“Because the request was risky enough to send us into war,” Yaga explains to you with a judgemental narrow of his eyes, “His Majesty is not known to have a temper of grace.”

You’re quick to first reply with a lift of your hand, a shiny rock sitting oh-so-prettily on your ring finger, “And yet the night ended with me engaged and my request granted.”

Yaga’s gaze doesn’t waver and he pays your hand no mind whatsoever. Instead, the man stands up straight and paces closer to your end of the table, grabbing a vacant chair to your left and turning it around to face him before he sits and rests his arms against the back. 

He leans closer to you and his voice drops to a softened whisper, “Did you truly not think to inform anyone of your plans beforehand?”

“I considered doing so, yes.” You say with a shrug.

Skeptical, Yaga’s lips twitch. “Yet you didn’t. Why?”

Your brows pinch together and you find it odd how quickly his tone seems to have changed, “Because I would have been advised against it, obviously.” Then your eyes wander and your arms meet to fold. “But I still don’t understand what all these lectures are for. Again, my fiance has allowed me the liberty to form a harem as I please so, honestly, just what is the issue here?”

“Permission to pry, Your Highness?” Yaga requests, earning your full attention once more. Even his expression seems to have softened and you almost feel as though he can see straight through you.

Leading you to lift your shoulders again with slight casualty, “Granted, I suppose.”

He tilts his head out of genuine concern as his question smoothly leaves his lips, “Why did you ask for a Harem?”

You can only chuckle at this point. He’s probably the tenth person to ask you such a question. “Can a lady not request for some men to satisfy her…?” You respond rather innocently with a dumbfounded bat of your lashes.

The corner of his lips raise and he sighs through his nose softly, “That’s cute but, something tells me it’s a bit more than simply that?”

You take that as a sign to drop your act of innocence, shifting up from your seat to stand. “When men move to create harems, do they too receive this many inquiries on why?”

“Well—”

“Pardon my… crudeness, General Yaga,” The sudden adjustment to your tone is noted mentally by the man as you step around your end of the table and closer to his chair. “I have sexual desires I wish to exploit before I am forced to only act upon such desires with,” You shudder, “My fiance.”

You don’t miss the way he stiffens up where he sits, stammering out a surprised, “O-Oh.”

“Surely, you understand what it’s like to find yourself…” He hardly has any time to register how close you’ve gotten to him before you’re slithering around his seat with careful steps and trailing a featherlight touch up along his bulky arm, stopping at his shoulder to give a gentle squeeze, and leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Frustrated.”

Yaga immediately clears his throat and you can feel the way his body tenses beneath your touch. “You and I should not be having this kind of conversation—”

“And yet we are,” You smile, voice remaining near his ear as you proceed, “General, I consider this harem of mine my last act of fun before I’m… a married woman.”

He nods, just barely, “I see.”

“Do you?” A second hand meets his other shoulder as you remain stood behind him. Then, you lift your lips away from his ear, “Have you any idea how dreadful it is to imagine that one day I am to lay with Naoya Zenin?” He sighs and you give both of his shoulders a squeeze, noting the firmness you feel beneath your palms, “Place your formalities to the side for just a moment, and,” Your touch meets his chin faster than he cares to react to as you tip his head up, “Look at me.”

His eyes, a rather underrated deep shade of brown, soon settle on your face above his own. This is a man who’s been at war more times than he cares to count and yet he finds himself almost entirely defenseless when in the face of you. As such, his voice is airy whilst exiting his throat, “Princess, this…”

You smile kindly and drag a finger up along his jawline. “Does he strike you as the kind of man who knows even the first thing about pleasing a lady?”

His jaw clenches, most likely to your question but arguably to your touch as well, “I cannot—”

“Oh but,” You lean down-, closer, “You can.”

Yaga swallows thickly, the sound hitting your ears as you take in just how nervous you’ve made him. “I won’t.”

He watches as your brows furrow upwards, “You’re denying your princess a mere response?”

“I cannot speak down on his majesty’s…” Yaga bats his eyes at you, “Possible ignorance.”

The proximity between the two of you at present is enough to drive any sane man to madness. Yaga has found himself close to you times before but never like this. Your hair is done up so there isn’t a strand obscuring his view of your every feature or the way you stare down at him so intimately that it’s almost suffocating. 

Then follows your voice with such softness that it makes his heart pound in ways he rarely knows it to. “I believe I’ve ordered you to drop the formalities for just a moment.”

Shutting his eyes, Yaga sighs heavily. “I am a—”

“Man before anything else. And a man’s answer is what I desire at present so, tell me, General, does Naoya strike you as—”

“No,” He breathes out as his eyes snap open once more.

You’d grown closer, mere inches away from connection. Perhaps the lack of distance is why he so hesitantly allows his eyes to travel downward along your face..

“See? Was that so difficult?” You say with a taunting scoff before finally removing your touch entirely and pulling away with a turn toward the room’s exit, “God, you men are so dramatic—”

“Though,” Yaga starts up. Your feet come to a stop but you don’t turn around, instead listening to the soft creak of wood against the flooring as he rises from his seat, followed by approaching steps. The man stops just behind you, hardly a step away. “You do not strike me as a woman who understands that all actions have appropriate consequences.”

“Or perhaps I am a woman who expects such… ‘consequences.’” Swiftly, you swivel around to face him once again. In doing so, he finds your body questionably close to his once again—with it, approaching your light fragrant into his nose. “I take it your silence is to speak for your confusion?”

“Yes…” He utters nearly dejectedly.

A grin spreads across your face before you smoothly lift a hand to the outskirts of his uniform lining, “Mh.” You hum to yourself in thought as you watch your hands dance along the navy blue fabric before you, “General, if I invited you into my harem, would you join?”

Taken aback, he scoffs, “That is wildly inappropriate—”

“No more inappropriate than the conversation you just held with me,” You cut off with a raise of your head, the simple meet of your gaze to his enough to have his usual hard exterior soften in face of you. 

With hardly a moment to ponder, Yaga answers you with a huff of irritation, “I do not know if I would join.”

You snort, “Right. But, you felt something moments ago, did you not?”

“I felt nothing.” He claims.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Unless you plan to actually invite me into that harem of yours,” He makes a small, almost unnoticeable, move toward you—leading your hands to flatten out against his torso, “I refuse to elaborate on anything I may or may not have felt within the time you and I have been in this room.”

“And that, General,” You pause, pushing closer so that the gap between you and him practically closes as you whisper, “Is exactly why my scheme will work.”

Clear bewilderment washes over his face, “What? What ‘scheme’?”

Your body slid away from him so quickly that it was almost as though it were never against his in the first place. “Do you see how you allowed lust to cloud whatever initial judgment you held toward me?” You ask rhetorically, making a sharp spin on your toes toward a nearby cabinet.

“I do not—”

“Most people operate rather similarly on a day-to-day basis.” Your words exit you flawlessly without even so much as another glance toward him, “Lust clouds the mind just as well as love is known to but,” You shrug. “At a quicker rate.”

“Slow down, what—”

“I will be using lust to drive the members of my harem so wildly insane that they’ll be willing to go to lengths unknown simply for my sake.” Your rambling finally comes to an end with that statement.

Yaga is left bewildered as he remains in the very place you left him, watching you diligently forage through a recently opened cabinet for something.

“…Only love does that to a person,” The man eventually responds to you.

Chuckling, moreso to yourself, “I have six months.”

“You-,” He blinks, “You plan to… make people fall in lust with you? My lady, as direct as this may be, many are already feeling such.”

“Including you?” You chirp.

The sound of him sighing, probably for the millionth time since the sun has risen today, can be heard amid your rummage. “I am serious. You are well sought after, especially as word of your harem spreads further and further. Do you know how many people will be at the palace gates hoping to join?”

Suddenly turning elsewhere, you pace toward the room door and crack it open for a second, briefly interacting with your knight before retrieving something Yaga is unable to identify from where he stands until you shut the door and turn to him. 

“That is of no concern to me considering I already have people in mind,” You tell him cheerfully.

His brows twitch but do not meet, “You do?”

“Yes,” You approach him and extend out your hand. “Here.” Within your grasp holds what seems to be eight documents, their contents unknown to the General in front of you.

He is a bit hesitant to take the small stack from you but once he does, he steadily allows his gaze to lower onto what he now holds. The first document earns an instant scoff, followed by a small smile of unseriousness, “You jest.” He says.

Your brows raise, “I do not.”

“These are…” Yaga trails off for a long moment while he flips through the documents you’ve handed him—each one containing a profile of some sort.

After his beat of silence, you loom closer to peak into his hands, as if you aren’t already aware of the paper’s contents, and he gives his throat a soft clearing before reading through in summarization. 

Flipping through each profile, Yaga reads them aloud, “Gojo Satoru, prince of the Northern Nation. Lord Geto, the duke of the northeast. Lord Nanami, Duke of Middom. Your knight, Lady Tsukumo. Prince Hajime, of the south. And, two others who aren’t even noblemen.”

You point to the name at the top of the document he’s paused on, “He's an ex-mercenary.”

Yaga shakes his head, “I know who he is, or-, what he is for that matter. You cannot be serious, he’s a barbarian—”

“And he,” You flip to the next page for him, “Comes from a noble family.”

He practically frog-blinks at you in the slowest of fashions, “He’s… a farmer.”

“Rumored to be quite handsome at that,” You inform, earning a cocked eyebrow and a look of pure skepticism. “Whaaat? I am putting together a harem after all.”

Brushing that comment off entirely, Yaga turns to the last document given to him and studies it thoroughly. “When you requested one, I did not think you would make an attempt to gather all other available men of power.”

“So…” You trail off a bit, leaning forward and then giving him a slight nudge on his arm to gain his eyes on you again, “What do you think?”

Yaga shrugs. “Nothing. I am confused.”

You frown, “Put two and two together.”

It takes another beat of stillness to pass before he looks back down to the papers at hand and flips through them again. You watch as he shuffles through each one, letting out a hum or two at some of the information collected on certain pages. The fluttering of papers quickly becomes the only sound shared within the space you two occupy.

Eventually, Yaga takes a long pause at the eighth document, noticing that it isn’t a profile at all—it almost looks like a royal invitation. “...You are using the harem as a coverup.” He breathes out suddenly.

The smile you had moments ago returns to your features and you cannot help but nod, “Mhm…”

He finds himself nodding to himself as he pieces it all together, “Your true intent is to get these men on your side against… Oh my God.”

“Has it finally clicked for you?” 

Yaga nearly grasps at your arms in one swift motion, a motion unthought of beforehand as his surprise takes over. Then he begins to lay it all out, “That whole talk of lust and love. You-, you want to seduce these men into joining your harem, out of lust, and then have them fall for you over these next six months because when a man, especially one of power, is in love they’re willing to drive to—”

“Lengths unknown for that of which they love,” You chuckle nervously. 

He unintentionally gives you a slight shake, “The Harem is a coverup.” He repeats.

It’s then that you snort, “Oh no, the harem is very much real. I do plan to partake in debauchery with these men.”

His head tilts, “...For the sake of your nation?”

“Well, sure,” You murmur sheepishly.

For the first time since he’d dragged you into this room, he smiles, “And what if they do not join?”

You find his excitement endearing, in a way. “They will.”

“How can you be sure–”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Perhaps it was the sudden question but, he then realizes the way he is holding onto your arms and quickly removes his hands from you with a respectful step back, “I…”

“Exactly,” You quip, unconsciously brushing off the areas of your skin in which his touch had just been, “And you hesitate to answer after only an hour alone with me. Do you doubt my capabilities, General?”

His head shakes before his mouth moves, “Of course not.”

“Then tell me this is a good plan!” You exclaim.

“It is brilliant-, genius, even.” He raves, “But, there are so many things that could go wrong. What if the six months pass and none of them fall in love with you?”

“Do you believe that to be possible?” Another rhetorical question leaves you as your eyes begin to wonder in thought, “I think six months is more than enough time to give someone to fall for me, especially if I am laying with them nearly every night.”

“I see. Lust to love.” You begin to pace back over to that cabinet you left open from before and his eyes merely follow you. “And what if this does work? What’ll happen if all of your harem members fall for you, prepare to join us in a war against the east, and Prince Naoya admits defeat?”

Your chin angles upwards while you go to reach for something, “The wedding will be called off and I will be a free woman.”

“How? What will you do with your harem?” Yaga questions.

You snort, palm coming in contact with your next object of desire, “Well, I will marry one of them, obviously.”

“And what of the rest—”

“Or all,” You finish, pulling down your item and inspecting it, “Polygamy is not uncommon as you all think it is.”

Yaga is baffled by you once more, “Are you serious?”

“Quite.” You say with a sharp turn.

“What if—”

“You ask far too many questions,” Nearly groaning, you stride back over to the table.

He nears the table alongside you, “My apologies, I’m just concerned. Just, one more…? Uh, when do you plan to act on this scheme of yours?”

“Technically I’ve already acted upon them but—oh!” You roll out the lengthy item you’d retrieved from the cabinet onto the outstretch of the table, “I would like to begin my travels as soon as possible.”

Yaga chokes, “Travels?”

You look at him, “You didn’t think I would just send out a letter and hope they show up, did you?”

“Well…”

“I shall ask each person to join my harem face to face!” In comes your beaming smile, one of which Yaga does not believe he has the pleasure of seeing too often.

After another sigh, he nods, “That is wise. It is quite hard to deny you when you are…” Pausing, he takes in your full attention and a moment of shared gaze passes by before he finishes in a gentle undertone, “Face to face.”

“Exactly.” Your undertone matches his before you look down to what you’ve spread out against the table—a map. “Now that all of that is settled, care to plan out a safe route of travel for me?”

He pries his eyes away from you and looks to the map ahead of him, “Of course.”

“Thank you, General Yaga.” You give a warming show of gratitude by placing a hand on his shoulder, “What ever would I do without you?”

He huffs through his nose, “Deal with less lectures, I suppose.”

You chuckle at that. Then you remove your hand and run it over the spread of the large map below, “Oh, and uhm, I would prefer this travel route to be done by tonight?”

He coughs, “Pardon?”

“I should like to leave tomorrow.” You request as your hand leaves the map.

His head whips to you, “Tomorrow?!”

“Mhm!” By the time you are in his sights, you’ve quickly made your way back toward the room’s exiting door, “Thank you in advance!!”

“I—” He couldn’t even form another syllable on his tongue before you’d disappeared out of the room.

Some lecture that was. His objective was to talk you out of whatever silly plan you’d made up in that mind of yours—per your father’s request. And yet somewhere along the lines, Yaga thinks he’d found himself distracted…

Which was unusual, to say the least. Typically, he is very goal-driven and never strays far from his plan of action. However, he is also man enough to admit that this plan of yours has more potential than he could have ever expected. Hell, he’s almost jealous he didn’t come up with it himself.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

So, as he works to curate a safe passage of travel for you to explore the nations on a hunt for your men, you busy yourself with explaining the same plan to any others close to you who desire to understand what came of you the night prior.

Such as your overly-stressed royal advisor, Higuruma.

“It isn’t as wild as you think it is, ‘Hiro.” You sigh, laid down comfortably across your bed whilst he impatiently paces back and forth mere inches away.

“It is dangerous.” Higuruma explains to you as he rubs at his temples, “Do you know how long it takes to travel to the north nation?”

You look at him ruefully, “Well, I—”

“At least a week, and once you do get there, who knows how long it’ll take you to convince Prince Satoru, of all people, to join this-, this harem of yours!” He shouts, startling the nearby maids who diligently work to pack things in preparation for your traveling.

Although it took quite some time, your mother and father had already come to terms with your plans and left the final decision of whether or not you should act on them to Yaga. Seeing as that went perfectly for you, you now lay comfortably as things are gathered for you. 

Moving to sit up, your legs dangle off the edge of your large bed and you watch Higuruma as he drives himself crazy. “It willn’t take me long, I swear.” You tell him, your voice soft.

His feet come to an immediate halt before he turns to you, eyes pouring with worry, “But what if it does, my lady?”

“It won’t,” You attempt to flash him a reassuring smile but it has little effect.

Hence why he rolls his eyes elsewhere, “You do not understand the risks of your own acts and it drives me mad.”

“Why? If the General can understand it then—”

Your advisor flashes you a momentary glare, “The General does not care for you in the ways I…” He exhales sharply. “Have been taught to.”

A quiet befalls the two of you.

But, it only lasts for a short while before you hop off of your bed and near him. He naturally straightens his posture as you draw closer, looking everywhere else but at you. All as you stare so pointedly up at him, taking in his features—those naturally widened-tired eyes, peculiarly large nose, clean shaved face, and strands of hair that he allows to fall perfectly loose to the right of his forehead.

“I wish for you to accompany me,” You tell him, earning a slow return of his gaze.

Now looking down at you, you can almost feel his constant tiredness oozing off of his irises. Then, he sighs rather heavily, “In what world would I deny you of any of your wishes, my lady?”

Your arms wrap around him before he has time to react and he freezes at your sudden embrace. You rest your cheek against his chest and notice his heartbeat steadily picking up. “‘Hiro, I am so thankful to you, always.”

“What brings this on so suddenly?” He chuckles, lifting his arms so that he can wrap only one around you.

“Nothing in particular,” Your head shifts and you stare up at him.

He, again, looks elsewhere. “I see.” He says dryly. Then, he swallows, “You know.. It is one thing that I allow you to address me by my first name but this nickname you’ve picked up for me recently is a bit too casual, no?”

Your brows meet, “Are you not fond of it?”

He’s quick to shoot you a defensive look, “I am fond of anything you call me.”

“Oh?” You nearly smirk.

“A-Any nickname, that is,” He stammers. “I just think that you would hear of odd… rumors, if this new nickname were to be heard by,” His head motions toward the busy maids, “Certain company.”

Following his nod, “Oh, I see.” You say flatly. “My apologies then, Sir Higuruma.” The hug you two shared comes to a comfortable end as you pull away from him and turn back to your bed, “Forgive my recent affections, I am quite excited for the next few weeks if I’m being honest.”

He makes no note of any affection you display, especially considering you’ve always acted this way with him. “For your-, our travels, I presume?”

“Yes but, mainly because our first destination is the north. I haven’t seen Satoru in years.” You sigh with a comfortable plop down on your bed, “That, and I heard it snows up there all year long, can you believe that?”

Higuruma replies with a tender nod, “I can.”

The conversation comes to an end there, with you rolling about your bed to get a look over to your nearby balcony doors that are wide open. Your eyes hold this gleam of joy in them—despite all doubts, you’re sure your travels will commence safely. 

You may find yourself away from your kingdom for quite a while as you go on this escapade to collect men in the name of escaping the marriage months from now but, something tells you this will be fun above all else. And not to mention, the first person you’ll be seeing is Gojo Satoru.

It’s been a good two to three years since you and him have been in the same space and from what you remember, he was never bad company to keep. Hell, he’s a lot like you in more ways than one; firstborn, only child, heir to a throne you never quite really asked for, sought after, attractive…

It will be nice to familiarize yourself with him once more, even if you plan to seduce him. Speaking of which, it only leads you to wonder… does he even hold an interest in you—romantically speaking? Or hell, even in a sense of lust?

You don’t think you can remember if his eyes ever wondered upon you or if he’s ever even said anything flirtatious to you. Gojo, from what you remember, was always just… casual with you.

Will you be able to change that?

m!list | last chapter | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar  @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

[endereies]

Giving Matt a blowjob after winning a race

“He’s so going to win.” Smoke blurred your vision as the girls vape was blown out her mouth when she smokes. As much as you told her to stop it, she never did.

It was hard to contain a smirk after seeing just which car her eyes following. “Conor? Hell no.” Her eyes stared you down as she took another drag from her vape. You had gone nose blind to the blue raspberry.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t kid yourself, angel. His car has been modified beyond belief; you can’t actually think that Matt is gonna win.” You just giggled at her words,

“Matt has only lost once since I’ve been here. I have m’own prize for him if he wins, I think that’s initiative enough to win.”

“The fuck did you tell him?” The look on her face was a sign enough that she knew what you meant. You nudged her with a wink and the pair of you giggled. “Y’know, I’d call you a slut if you weren’t my friend.”

“You’d do the same thing, don’t even.” You taunted her before it went silent again, the smoke brushing your face again.

Suddenly the roars of engines grew closer. Over the span of the conversation, you just had, 5 laps had gone by and the final lap was drawing to a close. The glowing blue was clearly in front, the LED’s blinding close spectators.

“Go celebrate the win, girl. Have funn…” Sultry tones passed through her voice, but you waved it off and pushed yourself off of the wall and towards the finish line.

You hoist your skirt a little bit higher up your hips and pull back the shirt to expose more of your chest. You weren’t hiding any inch of skin. After all, Matt, as earned it. His car slowly drove past the thick crowd, who celebrated his win. His car was tainted with sloppy, sweaty fingerprints. Once the clearing was made, he exited the vehicle. A streak of hair stuck to his forehead as he stood up, his mouth parted slightly. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he saw me approaching. "Well.. look what the cat dragged in"

"Sturniolo, congrats on the win. Conor is pissed." You lean over his shoulder to see a bitter man be confronted by a few girls already. The same would happen to Matt if you weren't there.

"Mm, I had a real good-looking prize to look forward to, didn't I?" Your gaze stayed on him as he inched closer, one foot in front of the other until he was face to face with you. "Speaking of which, you owe me that right about now?"

"Eager, aren't we?" You tried to hold out longer than you did, but you wanted this with Matt as much as he did. After time, away from each other, it was hard not to jump at the opportunity. Your hand naturally slipped into his, and you started to pull him away from his vehicle to a more secluded area. It wasn't much, just a wall behind an old blocked building, yet the pair of you had used it most times since they shut it off. Otherwise, it was his car.

He didn't argue with the way you pulled his body away from the crowd, he knew that feisty attitude would be gone soon regardless. Once alone, Matt let his weight fall to the brick wall behind him, his skin tightening against the cold. Your hand quickly brushed against his crotch and Matt chuckled at the boldness. It wasn't knew for either of you but he never got used to how it differed from most girls he'd been with before.

"You know what to do, don't you angel?" His voice dripped in faux kindness, the expression said it all. It didn't take long for your body to sink itself to its knees, the gravel embedded into your skin. It was hard not to smile at the effect you had on him, his arousal visible through his clothing. "Had me fucking thinking 'bout you throughout the race. Bet you get off on that."

You chuckled at his words, he wasn't wrong. Matt had only lost once since you had joined his equation a few months ago. The thought of you waiting there, dedicated to him in that moment made his brain fuzzy. "mm, you know me so well..."

By now the teasing of your hands drove him crazy, his hips thrusting upwards to indirectly tell you what he wanted. "Does Matt want his reward?" You hummed sweetly at him, he did too until he suddenly dropped any warmth. A hand wrapped into a bundle of your hair, tugging on it slightly.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me now, after all... I earned it." Now he was the confident one, staring down strongly, his way of subtly showing his control. With one hand in your hair, the other shifted to your cheek, cradling the skin. However, you obliged, toying with the fabric of his jeans and unbuckling the belt. Soon, you had hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and dragged them down until they hit the floor.

The sudden cold made Matt hitch but the warmth of your palm dragged a new sound from his lips. You started slow, stroking at the base to get him hard. His head lolled back to meet the wall, a gracious smile upon his face. That was satisfaction enough to keep going. The other hand rested just above the other, twisting as you jerked him upwards and downwards.

Continuing the pattern, you tightened your grip on him slightly. Your mouth came dangerously close to where he really wanted it yet you let a ball of saliva drip off your tongue and onto the centre of his dick. A wet feeling covered the majority of his dick until you slid your hand over the slit for the first time. The precum made your hand move slightly quicker, causing stimulation to run through him.

"Such a fuckin' tease. Shiiiit..." The pace continued, torturously slow. Suddenly, your pace faltered and Matt brough his head back up so he could look at your actions. He barely got a look in before he saw your lips wrapped snugly around the tip of his cock. You sucked it carefully and ran your tongue directly over his slit. He wasn't shy about being vocal, even in public places and now was no exception. A low groan slipped past his lips as you took him in your mouth.

You pulled off, pumping him again in your hand, your fingers over his tip didn't give him the same feeling as your throat, the wet heat of your mouth felt heavenly. He huffed out a laugh, displaying his attitude towards your constant teasing. Before he got the chance to speak up, you took him in your mouth once more, deeper than the last. Both of you knew that you were planning your every move. You had done this far too many time to not know how to toy with him. "Does that feel good."

Matt grumbled at the idiocy of the question. "You just crave the validation don't y-" You cut him of by squeezing his tip with your hand, grinning at his sensitivity. "Fuuuuckk.." Matt's face flickered into one of pleasure, his head reeling at the state he was in.

Once he had regained himself enough, he tugged again on the strands of hair in his grip. "Let's put that pretty mouth to good use, shall we? C'mon, open your mouth - good giirrlll..." You shut up only to obey his words - opening your mouth and letting your tongue lie flat. That's when Matt took the opportunity to thrust half of his dick into your mouth. He moaned softly as he pushed himself further into your mouth, causing a weak gag from your throat.

You bobbed your head, matching his motions. Slowly but surely, you took more and more of him each time until he rammed what was left down your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes, clenching them shut at the air restriction. He held himself there before pulling away again. A sharp intake of air followed while a trail of saliva made its way down your chin. Your head bobbed slowly again, showing Matt you were ready for more. With permission, he jolted his hips deep into your mouth.

Matt was no longer bitching to you - groans and whimpers pushed into the air instead. Sensations enveloped all of him, your lips, swollen and plump with the constant friction against his dick. They were wet with precum and saliva, gathered like a lip-gloss. Your hands between his thighs for stabilization and the base of his dick, rubbing and jerking anything you couldn't fit inside. Finally, your eyes, maintaining such an innocent look to such a sinful activity.

"Feels s'good, taking me s'well." His words of praise slurred into one. M'close... wan' me to cum in that sweet mouth, angel? Would you like that?" You tried your best to nod to him and hummed in approval, moaning around his dick. He laughed quietly, a constant expression of bliss on his face. His thrusts grew deeper again, giving you minimal chances to take a deep breath of air. He knew you'd tap out if you needed it.

He let out a particualary loud moan as you traced your tongue over a prominent vein before sucking his tip relentlessly. He couldn't help the way his pelvis tapped your cheeks, the gagging sound doing no good for his brain.

"M'gonna cum! Shiiit.. you- you ready?" Speech was a weakened skill with his impending release and you could tell by the way he twitched inside of your mouth. By now, you knew just how long it would be until he came. So, about ten seconds later you took all of him, as much as you could. You suppressed the gagging feeling and replaced it with the feeling of his cock deep inside your throat, prodding at the skin.

He came with a low, sustained groan before they morphed into quiet whimpers. The substance was pumped into your mouth and you swallowed it with pride. Removing your mouth, you opened it to prove that every bit was gone. Your hand continued to pump him, milking him dry until he grew overstimulated.

His hand lay in abandon next to his torso, no longer in your hair. His chest heaved in exhaustion and you rose to your feet. Your hand finally pried itself away from his dick and landed on his jaw - pulling him in for a sloppy kiss only so that he could taste himself on your lips. He grinned tiredly into it, his tongue brushing against yours momentarily.

"I bet you really enjoy winning now." You helped him lift up his boxers and jeans, letting him buckle them back up.

"Your prizes are better than any trophy, angel." You nudged his side with your elbow. "Better than the money?"

"Don't push your luck."

[moonylvs]

✧.* Someone Older

Summary: Being Sevika's girlfriend is already something controversial, to say that all eyes are on you is an understatement, but being much younger than Sevika, gives much more to talk about, Sevika didn't believe that someone could make her so soft, that was until you came along.

This is a little story of how your relationship started and what sevika is like as a girlfriend ;)

This was a Request from an Anon! I hope you like it xoxo

Pairing: Sevika x fem!reader

Words: 4.5k!

ⓘ Warnings: Legal age gap (Reader is of the legal age, she's in her 20s) Men being jerks (insinuations), mentions of alcohol, sevika is a big softie (Because I want to and I can), no proofread, I think that's it, lmk if I forgot anything.

Your history with Sevika was a bit chaotic to say the least, you worked at the last drop as a waitress from time to time, it wasn't the best place but there weren't many job opportunities in Zaun, this was the best you could find, for now.

The first time you saw Sevika was in your first week of work, the woman was in a corner of the bar, playing cards with other local men, with a glass of what looked like whiskey in her hand.

That day you didn't think much of it, you had a dozen tables to serve and on top of that you had to dodge the flirtations of some men who didn't seem to understand your very direct hints that you simply weren't interested in them.

You had to adapt quickly to the job, there were many things to do and few people working and helping you, despite this, you managed to adapt quickly, you were good at serving customers and you were fast, which were very useful qualities in that place.

For the first time after a month you had to attend to the table where Sevika was with other people, in one of her usual card games, although you didn't want to admit it, Sevika's presence was intimidating, but in that job you couldn't be scared or turn back.

“Can I offer you something? Any drinks or food?” You asked politely, holding up a small notepad, awaiting her orders.

“Oh yeah, I have a few things in mind that you could offer me” Said one of the men at the table, looking you over from head to toe with a smirk.

Sevika instantly tensed at the man's words, her jaw tensing just enough to stop herself from saying anything.

“Do you have a name?” The same man asked, not taking his eyes off you.

“I'll just ask one more time, can I offer you something to drink or eat?” you said again, speaking slowly as if you were dealing with children, trying to keep your tone polite, you knew that insults would only cause them to make a complaint and you couldn't afford a pay cut.

The other men at the table seemed to notice your frustration and simply told you their order, some with a more rude and condescending tone.

“A whiskey, please” Sevika said without looking up from her cards, but her tone was kinder than the rest of the people at the table.

You nodded slightly, grateful that someone at the table knew how to say please.

Minutes later you returned with the drinks, leaving them on the table with a friendly smile, though at this point, you were more than exhausted.

“Thank you” Sevika murmured as you handed her the glass of whiskey, still totally focused on her card game, for a moment your gaze rested on her hands, specifically the one holding her cards, you couldn't help a smile to appear on your face, she was going to win.

A few seconds later you proved it, when while you were serving some drinks at the table in front of her, you heard the complaints of the men at the moment that Sevika lowered her cards, all upset because the woman had won, again.

You spent the rest of the night serving drinks for Sevika's table, to your surprise, the man who had made a pass at you didn't say a word again, which was strange, they didn't usually give up so easily, but anyway, you were grateful you didn't have to listen to him.

Little by little people started to leave and the place began to empty, people went with you to pay their tabs at the bar and left, you were finally starting to relax, soon the night would be over and you could take a well-deserved rest.

“Here” Sevika said as she approached the bar, extending the money to you, but you instantly frowned, noticing that it was more than she owed on her tab and it was too much to be a tip.

Sevika seemed to notice your confusion and spoke “It's because of Finn, he's a jerk sometimes, I'm sorry”.

You frowned even more, until you remembered the guy sevika was sitting with, the man who had made a pass at you, you immediately shook your head, making a move to return the money to sevika.

“No, no, you don't have to apologize or give me extra” You said kindly, Sevika was not to blame for that man being a jerk and you couldn't charge extra to every idiot no matter how much you wanted to.

“Take it as a tip” Sevika said seriously, gently pushing your hand with the money and walked out of the place, leaving you with the money in your hands.

You stood still, it wasn't normal for someone to give you that kind of tip, but immediately a smile spread on your face, that money would be very useful, you wouldn't have to worry about that month's rent anymore.

To your surprise, sevika kept showing up at the bar practically every week, and every time she went she left you the same generous amount of tip, it was more than anyone else would give you, plus she was always nicer than the rest of the customers, sometimes even engaging you in small conversations, which you started most of the time, but sevika was more than happy to follow, your conversations were not long or personal, just small chats about her card games or about trivial zaun topics.

Even though sevika's little appearances made your nights a little better, you still had annoying customers who would take every opportunity to try to flirt with you or act like idiots.

This did nothing but wear you out, you had enough with having to attend to a dozen tables to still have to deal with idiots who wanted to sleep with you.

So here you were today, the bar was almost completely empty and your shift was over, you were sitting at one of the tables in the back trying to convince yourself not to quit, you were exhausted and had no energy at all, you had no family or close friends, so you had no one to complain to about your problems, it ended up with you holding it all in until you felt you couldn't take it anymore.

“Are you all right?”

A voice brought you out of your thoughts, trying not to sigh you looked up and nodded slightly, it was sevika who spoke, after her constant visits you now recognized her instantly

“Do you need anything? We'll be closing in about 15 minutes” You said kindly despite how tired you were.

Sevika shook her head instantly, she had been about to leave until she saw you at that table alone and totally exhausted.

“Are you really okay? You look…exhausted” Sevika said, her voice softer than usual, which didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Yeah…it was just a long day” You said softly, your voice showing how exhausted you were, sevika noticed instantly that it wasn't just physical exhaustion, but mental.

Even though you didn't notice it, sevika always kept an eye on you when she went to the bar, it was like something about you magically attracted her, it was probably all the energy you usually had, you usually looked cheerful and lively, the complete opposite of this moment, plus she had seen you deal with dozens of idiot men, you always found a way to ignore them or make them look foolish when they tried to pick you up, but even though you made it look easy, sevika knew it wasn't, she knew it was exhausting.

“Yeah, it must be exhausting to deal with these idiots and still keep that pretty smile of yours” Sevika murmured nonchalantly, sitting on the chair in front of you, you didn't know why but something stirred in you, that compliment wasn't like the ones you heard everyday, her words sounded sincere.

“You have no idea” You replied in a sigh, remembering how exhausting your night had been, it always surprised you how jerks some customers could be, every night was hard, it was Zaun at the end of the day, but that night it felt worse, you didn't know why.

“And why are you still here?” sevika asked, although the question sounded rather stupid to you, you knew she was asking out of genuine curiosity. “You're young to be in a place like this.”

You sighed slightly, somewhat frustrated, you knew you were young, that there were probably more opportunities for you, but being in Zaun things weren't easy, though you didn't want to spend your whole life in a crappy bar either.

“I…I have nowhere else to go…this is the best job I could find” You said simply, without giving more details, your voice sounded resigned, because you were, you had to settle for this.

Sevika nodded slightly, she knew that maybe her question had been a bit stupid , it was obvious that in Zaun you had to make do with what there was, she knew why you worked there, you needed to put food in your mouth and survive, everyone did what they had to do to survive, she knew that better than anyone.

“And what about your family? Or friends?” Sevika asked, her voice softer than usual, she didn't want to believe you had no one by your side to support you.

“I've been on my own for a while now…It's hard to make friends when I spend all my time in this damn place” You explained quietly, your voice echoing with bitterness, you didn't want to say you hated your job, but it definitely wasn't the place you expected to be in your 20s, this definitely wasn't the life you expected to have in your 20s.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be complaining, my job must sound ridiculous compared to yours” You said after a few seconds in silence, you felt dramatic for complaining about your job to someone like sevika, everyone knew that sevika was practically in charge of keeping the undercity people at line.

Sevika couldn't contain the small smile on her face at gracie's last words, it wasn't a mocking smile, but rather a tender one, a girl gracie's age, a bar waitress, complaining about her job to a woman like sevika, who had seen the cruelty of the city face to face, was a somewhat amusing situation.

“You work all damn day and deal with a bunch of idiots, you can complain all you want” Sevika said casually, although her voice sounded sincere, it sounded understanding, which was the opposite of what you would expect from a woman like her.

Something in you stirred at her words, you used to tell yourself that you couldn't complain, that you were living a good life compared to others, that your life wasn't that bad, even others had told you that, but here was sevika, the toughest woman you had ever seen, the one who definitely had it worse than you, telling you that you could complain all you wanted.

“You don't have to act like you don't care all the time, you have the right to complain about your life when it feels like shit.” Sevika said quietly, without looking at you, instead she stood up, she herself didn't know why she was being so soft on you, there was something about you, something that made it impossible for her to act rude to you.

“Shall I walk you home?” sevika asked after a few moments, your legs practically moved by instinct, standing up and starting to walk beside her towards the exit of the bar, which at this point was empty and closing.

That was the first of a dozen times that sevika walked you home, that day for the first time you could complain to someone about how shitty your life was, sevika wasn't very good at comforting you, but she listened attentively and gave you advice from time to time.

Sevika spent the next few weeks walking you home, she didn't even ask anymore, she just waited until your shift was over and walked you home, most of the time she tried to get you to talk, although she didn't talk too much, she just asked you how your day was and let you talk all the way, telling her absolutely everything, she quickly found out that you enjoyed talking a lot and although she wouldn't admit it, she enjoyed listening to you talk.

Sevika hesitated too much to ask you out, when I say too much is too much, she spent a week thinking whether to do it or not, she liked you, she had accepted it after a while, but something in her still doubted that you liked her.

Sevika did not have low self-esteem, not at all, but something about you made her doubt, you were much younger than her and your personalities were very different, Sevika did not believe that you could fall in love with someone like her, a rough and closed woman, much older than you.

Even so sevika started to change a bit with you, doing little acts as if to test the waters, trying to see if you would respond the same way.

But of course, sevika wasn't very subtle with her actions, this woman doesn't know how to be subtle, yet you pretended not to notice anything and let her buy you drinks, bring you food, give you her jacket and so on.

Still you couldn't help but laugh when you noticed that sevika really thought she was being subtle, you thought it was cute, but you didn't say anything, you didn't have the heart to say it.

When Sevika finally got up the courage to ask you out on a real date she was surprised when you accepted right away, for the first time you left her speechless.

“Really?” Sevika asked incredulously, as if she didn't really believe you would have accepted so easily.

You nodded instantly, giving sevika a small smile, that smile that made her so weak.

On your first date Sevika showed up with a small bouquet of flowers, that bouquet had cost her a full salary, flowers were expensive in Zaun, but Sevika didn't care, she once heard you say you loved flowers and she promised to give you one.

During that first date, sevika could say for the first time, that she had a wonderful time, she had never been someone for the cheesy stuff, at her age she felt ridiculous doing it, but you were the opposite, your smile was contagious and made her feel like a teenager in love even if she didn't show it.

Listening to you talking about your life and your dreams made sevika realize that you were the one, something in her still felt insecure, not because of you, but because of herself, you seemed so cheerful and full of life, she was afraid that by her side you would lose that spark, that her temper would make you fade, sevika never expected that it would be the other way around, that you would make her become brighter and cheerful, that you would make her feel alive after so many years.

So after their first date, that wednesday that sevika remembered perfectly, in that cafeteria that seemed like a dream, sevika felt something new grow in her, for the first time in years, she felt in love.

₊˚⊹ᰔ Headcanons

⟡ Sevika asked you to be her girlfriend in private after the third date, she was tired of waiting and didn't want to spend one more second without being able to introduce you as her girlfriend, that same day was your first kiss and Sevika swore she had tasted heaven, your lips were soft and sweet on hers, it was heaven itself.

⟡ Even as girlfriends, sevika kept visiting the last drop and taking you home after your shift was over, the only difference is that now you didn't go straight home, instead you would visit a restaurant or end up at sevika's apartment ;)

⟡ Sevika never cared what you wore, she would never tell you to change, but she definitely liked you to show her what you were going to wear before you went out so she could wear something that “matched” according to her, plus she always enjoyed you modeling the clothes she gave you. She didn't care if you wore short skirts or the most baggy clothes in the world, she would still see you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and you didn't even have to worry about any man trying to flirt with you, one look from sevika and they would walk away instantly.

⟡ You became sevika's official waitress, no one else could serve her in the bar except you, it was an unwritten rule that all the waiters respected, sevika loved to have you around and steal a kiss or two when you brought her drinks.

⟡ This poor woman can barely keep up with you, you are aware that you are somewhat hyperactive, but sometimes you forget that sevika is in her thirties and is exhausted by her lifestyle, yet she never shows it, if you want to spend the whole day walking the streets and going from store to store she will go with you, if you want to go to the club and spend hours dancing, sevika has no problem, although she will probably spend most of the night sitting and watching you dance with a smile on her face.

⟡ Sevika is the most touchy person in the world, this woman has to have her hands all over you all the time, at first she was ashamed to even take your hand, but when you took the initiative, sevika didn't let go anymore. Although going with your hands intertwined is not her preferred form of affection, she prefers to have her hands on your waist, or hug you from behind while you talk to someone or put her hand on your shoulders while she talks to someone, if you go down the street you always hug her arm while walking.

⟡ If there is something that sevika loves about you is your personality, she has never considered herself someone very cheerful or charismatic, so having you by her side was like a gift for her, she loves to listen to you talk and laugh, she would probably never get tired, many times she doesn't understand what you are talking about, because she is used to the old school, but even so she would never shut you up, you want to tell her about a new gossip between singers? Sure, tell her all about it, she has no fucking idea who they are but it sounds interesting, you want to go to a concert? sure, she pays for the tickets, she has no idea who the singer is but it's fun to watch you get excited.

⟡ This woman finds out everything so late, one day she can come and tell you the “newest gossip” and in reality you already knew it two weeks ago, you would still take care of telling her everything and since that day sevkia always asks you to tell her everything you know, although she would never admit that she is a gossip.

⟡ This woman wears reading glasses and you can't tell me otherwise, she hates wearing them but she has to and she doesn't like you mentioning it, the first time you saw her with them she felt insecure but when you told her she looked good she relaxed a little, she still doesn't wear them often even though she knows it will hurt her in the future.

⟡ Her way of showing love is acts of service, always, when you started to form your relationship she wanted you to live with her and quit your job, when you refused saying that you didn't want to be a bother, she didn't insist anymore, but she started to help you pay for your things and your rent, even though sevika didn't feel completely sure about you continuing to work in that bar, she understood that you wanted to continue being independent, so she didn't force you to do anything, but she made sure to keep you safe in your job and to help you with expenses that she knew were bothering you, saying that “It was nothing” and that she was only doing it out of good heart,

⟡ She makes dad jokes, the worst jokes in the world, the kind that make you laugh at how bad they are, for her they are the best jokes in the world and no one can tell her otherwise.

⟡ After a few months of dating she offered you to move in with her, it wasn't surprising, you spent too much time in her apartment so why not, even so sevika promised to pay the rent of your old apartment, she knew you had lived there for a long time and you wouldn't want to get rid of it, besides it was nice and you could still visit it from time to time.

⟡ Sevika takes off her prosthetic arm when she gets home, the moment she is at the door and she knows that you are there, safe and sound, she takes it off, even though she knows how to control it perfectly, she doesn't want to risk hurting you by accident, she never loved her prosthetic arm, but not using it is something that makes her feel vunerable not being able to use both arms correctly, but only with you she can stop caring about that vunerability, she doesn't need to be rude and rough with you, she knows that you would never use this vunerability against her.

⟡ She would NEVER let you touch shimmer, that it doesn't even cross your mind, she wouldn't give you a lecture but simply tell you “It's not up for discussion” and make sure you don't do anything stupid, she's not willing to watch you kill yourself little by little over this, if you ever questioned her she would tell you that you are too young to think about ruining your life in such a way.

⟡ This woman can cook, you can't say she can't, even if she won't admit it, she loves to cook, she loves to wake you up with breakfast ready on the table, she would love to prepare your favorite meal every time you ask her to.

⟡ Sevika gets up damn early, at 5 in the morning she would already be exercising and then having breakfast, more than once she has teased you saying that she doesn't understand how you can get up so late, if at your age she had much more energy.

⟡ Sevika Loves to use the phrase “ When I was your age” as if that was a century ago, she knows she's not that old, but according to her, things have changed a lot since she was young.

⟡ She likes to tell you stories of her childhood and teenage years, she never really likes to talk about this part of her life but she likes to do it with you, especially when you are going through a bad time and she wants to show you that things get better “I also thought it was the end of the world when I was your age, but look at me here, you showed up and everything got better.”

⟡ She loves to call you by nicknames, she would never call you by your name unless she is mad, she likes to introduce you as “ Her woman” or “Her lady”, she likes to call you all kinds of nicknames, “Doll”, “Dear”, “angel” or her favorite “Sunshine”.

⟡ She also loves it when you call her by nicknames, such as “Baby”, “Babe”, “Vika” or whatever you want to call her, she doesn't mind, you can even call her that in front of her friends and she wouldn't give a fuck, she just threatens them with a look and they know not to say a word, although some don't even care and laugh their asses off to hear you call a woman like sevika “Baby”.

⟡ Despite sevika's tough personality and looks, she becomes the biggest softie for you, this woman has no power to deny you anything, just bat your eyelashes and give her that pretty smile and she will give you whatever you want, there is nothing she won't do for you and to keep that smile on your face.

⟡ This woman buys absolutely everything you see or say, literally everything, if you go shopping with her you will probably come back with double what you originally needed, did you stare at some cookies in the supermarket? the next second sevika buys them, did you say two days ago you were craving a fruit? Next time you open the fridge there's a whole box.

⟡ Her favorite thing is your smile and your laugh, she loves to see you get excited about the silliest things and loves to see you laugh at any stupidity, many times she finds herself smiling at you without even noticing it.

⟡ There are days when she is not in the mood for anything, but she would never show it to you directly, she would keep hugging you and acting as usual, but the moment you notice it, everything changes, just a few words from you and you have her cuddled next to you, enjoying the caresses you give on her hair, she is not very good at talking about her feelings, so she would only explain very briefly what she feels and let you comfort her, at the end she would always say “What did I do to deserve you?”

⟡ This woman loves to take care of you on your bad days, she notices instantly that something is wrong, because according to her, “She can see it in your eyes”, so the moment she notices it she already cancels all her activities for you, she will cuddle with you as long as you want, she won't let you stay in bed for too long either, she will let you rest for a while and make you your favorite breakfast to cheer you up, then she will take you for a walk and tell you stories to cheer you up, when she feels you are very sad, she takes you to the cafeteria where you went on your first date, saying that that place is where she met the love of her life, that always brings a smile to your face.

© 2025 Moonylvs

Please do not copy any of my writing or feed it to the ai-monster!

[beenbaanbuun]

Neighbour w/ song mingi

words - 3.1k

genre - smutty

warnings - fem!reader, afab!reader, neighbour!mingi, mysterious!mingi, drop-out!reader, bitter!reader, wet dreams, masturbation, nicknames (kitty, good girl), i think that’s it

——————————————————————————

Coming home from a night shift is never fun, but its even less so in winter. As if the bone-deep tiredness wasn't already bad enough, now you have to compete with the inescapable chill of the air and the long, dark mornings that seem to drag on for eternity. It feels like months since you’ve actually seen an ounce of sunlight, sleeping through the few short hours that you’re granted around this time of year. Then you wake up again at 4pm, just in time to watch the sun go down beyond the horizon as you cook your breakfast of packet ramen and coffee.

Its a depressing existence, and you’d be the first to admit that, but you cant really afford much else. As a drop-out in a city full of students, you don't really have too many options. Full time jobs favour people with actual qualifications, and the part-time job market is wildly oversaturated by struggling teenagers looking for a way to fuel the various addictions that come hand in hand with being at university. You remember it well; the £16 bottles of Tesco’s own brand vodka that went down about as easy as a fist full of gravel, the weed from a random dealer who passed you his number at 3am while you were sitting drunk on a park bench. Its an expensive life to live, and you don’t blame them for snatching up every single decent part time job your city has to offer.

Not really, anyway. Theres certainly a little resentment there whenever a drunken customer cusses you out for refusing to serve them. Perhaps a little hatred when you’re sent in to handle yet another bar fight between two men twice your size. Definitely a lot of frustration whenever you feel the amused eyes of your neighbour as he watches you sleepily fumble with your keys whenever you return home in the morning. You’ve yet to learn his name since he moved in, and part of you doesn't want to. From the few run-ins youve had with him, you can already say that no amount of resentment or hatred or frustration you feel towards your working situation compares to what you feel for him.

That stupid bleached hair that he lets grow into something akin to a shitty mullet before cropping it short again, that brash voice that you can hear through the thin walls of your apartment as he yells at whatever sport is playing on his tv, those strangely soft eyes that watch you with so much amusement as you stumble around your shared corridor. He gets home about the same time as you after his morning run, and you hate it. You hate him. Cocky, irritating, handsome bastard.

“Someone pissed in your cereal, Kitty?” he pulls you from your thoughts with a quick quip. His shoulder is leaning against the wall on your side of the corridor, almost as if he was waiting for you to arrive home or something. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was; he seems the type to imagine camaraderie where there certainly isn't any. Perhaps he sees you as a friend, despite never having asked you for your name, or your age, or where you work, or anything else about you, for that matter. Maybe he’s lonely.

“I don’t eat cereal,” you scoff as you brush past him to get to your front door. He twists his body to watch you amble past him, your keys already poised in hand, “why would i want to eat cold mush every morning? Its gross.”

He chuckles brightly as if you’ve just told the joke of the century, and you weren’t just complaining about the concept of the nation’s favourite breakfast food. The judgemental glare you shoot in his direction happens just as easy as his laughter.

“It's a metaphor, Kitty,” God, you fucking hate that nickname, “surely work can’t have fried your brain that much.”

He wears a smirk that stretches from ear to ear, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he stares you down. Part of you wishes you could sock him right in his pretty little face, but a smarter part of you knows that the muscles that decorate his body arent just for show. He's like a dog in that sense; no matter how cute and unassuming he makes himself out to be, there's always going to be a part of you that understands what hes capable of. Dogs were once wolves, after all.

Your gaze cant help but flicker to a scar on his cheekbone, and then up to the newer one that sits on his left hand eyebrow. They’re not the type that you get from playing a little too rough as a kid, nor the type thats left over from surgery. They’re purposeful and dangerous and it makes you wonder just what he did to deserve them.

“My brain is fine,” you make a point of looking away from the scar above his eye, no longer wanting to dwell on what might of caused it, “not that the state of it is any of your concern.”

He laughs again, his smile cracking his face in two as your annoyance only grows. How is it that he can make you feel so… undermined? With such ease too! Its like every toothy grin is an act of condescension, every comment crawling beneath your skin like beetles. You’ve met plenty of arseholes in your life, and yet theres been no one who angers you quite as much as him.

“I’m just being neighbourly, Kitty–”

“That’s not my name,” you growl out, a thick layer of impatience coating your words.

“Yes, but it suits you,” he says with a shrug, “far better than the one written on the front of your mail, don’t you think?” What business did this man have looking at your mail? You’ve never once paid attention to his, nevermind going as far as to read the name that sits just above the address. You regret it now as you watch the playing field become even more uneven than it already was. Its you against him; the older, stronger, cockier man that knows more about you than you do him. Logic says that this is a game; one that you've already lost.

He says your name, humming it lowly to himself as if its an equation he’s trying to figure out. It sounds good, coming from his mouth, his accented drawl pulling at the letters in a way you’ve never heard before. The vowels get extended and the consonants ring out clear like a bell. It feels like the first time hearing your name, and whilst that might not necessarily be true, it certainly is the first time you’ve liked it. Its the first time its ever felt correct.

You could kick yourself for even thinking something so… pathetic.

“It might not suit me, but it is my name,” you insist as you try to ignore the desperate pitter patter in your chest. Its not a sensation you’re familiar with, especially not when it comes to him. You can only blame it on the romantic dry spell you’ve been facing as of late. Turns out the night shift isn't exactly conducive to meeting new people.

“Sure it is, Kitty,” you grind your teeth against one another, “but what's a nickname between friends, hm?” his teeth glint in the flickering overhead light, flashes of luminance against his pearly white canines. If he truly were a dog, you’d already be running, the look in his eyes telling you exactly whats going to happen if you entertain him for much longer. Like a rodent stuck in the maw of its predator, you can already feel your fate closing in on you. If you don't leave now, you fear he wont ever let you go.

You slip your key into your lock and twist it.

“We’re not friends,” is all you say as you bump your shoulder into the wood to pry it open, quickly slipping inside before locking it behind you.

Theres a chuckle, and a single soft tap against the door.

“We’ll see about that, Kitty.”

——————————————————————————

You sleep strangely.

Despite your mind wandering and your heart rate shifting between erratic and arrhythmic, it doesnt take you long to slip into a dreamland once your head is actually resting on the soft fluff of your pillow. Darkness washes over you like waves lapping at the shore, pulling you further and further into the deep until you’re stuck within the murky abyss of your mind. Fish swim past in the form of dream fragments, very few of them making sense.

Your neighbour grins down at you with a softened gaze, hands flitting around your face as if he cant quite help himself but touch. You feel it so clearly; a finger tip gracing the end of your nose, a warm palm cupping your cheek, minty breaths tickling your skin so perfectly. It feels so natural, which is strange given your regular distaste for the man. And as he pulls his hand away, you can’t help but to chase it. You lean in close; so close that you can almost taste his musk on the tip of your tongue. It feels so real, and while every rational part of you thanks the heavens that it isn't, there's still a tiny voice in the back of your head praying that one day it will be.

And the worst part is, your sleep addled mind doesn’t even try and shut that voice it. It seems to nod along, letting your mind wander further and further until the dreams shifts to you lay on a bed. It’s not your bed, so you conclude that it’s his. You’ve never seen it before, but your mind seems to have conjured up something that works. Dark walls, dark bedsheets, dark furniture, all illuminated by the glow of his laptop which loops an animated screensaver of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn.

Heavy hands paw at your flesh, pushing and pulling at you like you’re a ragdoll. They’re careful, yet firm, putting you in position without pushing too far, or tugging too hard. Its like he’s done this a million times before, and you’d believe it if he had! Everything from his smirk, to the unfounded confidence lets you know that he’s good at this; good at catching women in his trap and fucking them until they belong to him, mind, body, and soul.

And you can deny it if you want, but something tells you that perhaps he has you on a tighter leash than you care admit. Perhaps he already owns your soul, and judging by the way his tongue presses upon your clit in your dream, it’s clear that he already owns your mind. All that’s left for him to take is your body, and would it really be so bad if you gave that to him as well.

If you were awake, you’d be hating yourself for having these thoughts, but you’re not, so you indulge. Your hands fly to his hair and tug on his silky strands like they’re the only things keeping you anchored to earth right now. It’s all too much; far more than you’ve ever felt in a dream before, and before you know it, you’re coming undone. Your heart is hammering, and your eyes are flying open and your own fingers are being drenched in your cum as they stimulate the motion of your neighbours tongue on your clit.

Fuck, you really must’ve been horny if you had to resort to sleep-wanking.

Disgust fills you from top to bottom as you sober up and let sanity rain down on you once more. Your fingers are sticky, but not quite as much as your thighs. Your underwear is seemingly nowhere to be seen, although you don’t doubt that it’s had the same treatment. You feel a mess, both physically and mentally. Seriously! Thirsting over a man you’ve dedicated your last few months to hating? It all feels too surreal to think about.

Yet think about it is all you can do. As you crawl out of bed, you can still feel his breath on your skin, and as you strip with wet sheets and shove them into the wash, you can still practically smell him. The steam that surrounds you in the shower makes your head spin, and its almost like you can’t stop yourself when for the second time that night—although the first time in whisky awake—your fingers find their way dancing over you clit to the thought of him consuming you.

You cum twice, maybe three times before the water turns cold and you’re left shivering and ashamed of yourself. This time it’s worse than when you first woke up, though. You’re conscious, and you willed those images to come into your head. No longer can you give your brain the benefit of the doubt because this time, this is exactly what you wanted, not just some crazy, nightmarish concept you’ve dreamt up.

“Fucking hell~” you growl to yourself as you switch off the water and lean your head against the cold tile. Your fingers are pruned, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower or the constant abuse of your poor clit. Either way, it’s a clear signal that you need to get a grip; get out of the bathroom and remove any thought of that man from your brain. These thoughts aren’t normal, you tell yourself as you wrap a fuzzy towel around your body; you don’t even know the man’s name for heaven's sake!

You make a mental note to check his mail the next time you leave the flat. By the end of the day, you want to know as much about this man as possible. If he’s going to take over your every thought, waking or otherwise, then you at least deserve to know the name of the man that’s ruining your life.

But speak of the devil, and he shall appear, right?

There’s a knock on your door; three short taps that almost go unnoticed by you. “Shit—coming!” You yell out as you hurriedly slide some pyjama bottoms over your thighs and a loose hoodie over your head. The towel on your hair remains in place, keeping your wet locks contained and out of your face. It makes you feel a little silly, as you make your way over to the door and crack it open to reveal your neighbour, but then you remember that you’ve painted him as a slut, and so a woman with a towel wrapped around her head probably isn’t too unusual of a sight.

“Kitty,” he says with a sly grin the moment the two of you come face to face. What would happen if you just slammed the door in his face, you wonder? Would it wipe that look off of his face? You doubt it; a man like that is only spurred on by rejection. They’re too full of themselves to understand that not everyone in the world wants to get in his pants.

Fragments of your dream flash through your mind.

Maybe you do want to get in his pants…

“What do you want?” You try and push the thoughts of his tongue on you away as you speak, but you can’t push away the warmth that pools in your stomach as he looks you up and down. His gaze is so brazen as it studies your form, taking extra time to travel over your curves. They’re well hidden by the oversized clothing you don, but with the way he studies you, you almost feel naked.

“Oh, nothing much,” he takes his time in returning his gaze to your face, letting his eyes linger on your chest for a moment or two. You’re almost tempted to cross your arms and cover yourself, but there’s some sick part of your brain that’s enjoying the way he looks at you. It’s the same part that conjured up those dreams, and make you play with yourself in the shower; the same part that’s trying to convince you that lusting this hard over a man you’re supposed to hate is entirely logical. You hate that part of yourself, and yet you don’t dare fight it as it takes control. “I made too much food; I wanted to know if you’d like to come over and have some?”

Immediately, your brain goes blank. Stepping into the apartment of a man you don't really know is a bad idea, right? Sure, he’s your neighbour, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. Your eyes flicker across his scars again, and the burning question of where they came from returns. Your mind wanders to all sorts of dark places, and you try to ignore the way it makes the uncomfortable ache in your stomach deepen. You remember reading somewhere that fear is a powerful aphrodisiac and it’s the only explanation for the wetness that’s gathering between your thighs for the hundredth time today. It has nothing to do with his fluffy hair, or how hot he looks when he wears that condescending expression!

Even you can’t seem to make yourself believe that lie.

“I don’t really know you well enough to go to your apartment,” you try to reason, although you hardly sound stern about it. Your voice is weak, shaky, and there’s plenty of room for push back. With your brain teetering on the edge of too-horny-to-be-logical, you have no doubt that if he were to push too hard, you’d be sat at his dinner table by the end of the night. Perhaps you should just slam your door in his face; it would solve a plethora of issues, including giving you the privacy to fix the one between your legs (again).

“Well, my name is Mingi,” he smiles and you almost collapse to the floor right then and there. The name bounces around in your skull. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. It suits him; you like it; you can imagine moaning it.

“Mingi,” you whisper back to him, and his eyes darken.

“It sounds pretty coming from you, Kitty,” suddenly the nickname doesn’t sound so bad. It shoots a tingle down your spine right to that aching spot between your thighs. You gasp, and he looks at you like you’ve just moaned his name for the entire building to hear. Something tells you that the night is heading in that direction anyway. “So what do you say? Come over?”

And against all your better judgement, you nod.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, you just fucking nod.

“Good girl.”

[district4loading]

Lazy Days

Twice Mina x Male Reader

4K Words

Content Warning: Smut, Fluff

Minors DNI

A/N: This is another request I received almost a month ago. I really hate that it took me so long to get to it especially because it isn't even that long. It's probably cause for the past few weeks I've been stressed and I've had bad headaches which really killed my motivation lol.

Anyways enough of my bitching, I really enjoyed writing this one cause Mina's been wrecking me lately so I hope you guys like it.

-

"You let me win, didn't you?"

-

"There's no way" You blink, your entire body running stiff as you watch the small pixelated character you created maybe four hours ago shrivel up and die in one of the worst ways imaginable. In the same instance you glance over to your girlfriend Mina, who's sitting right next to you on the couch. Although she doesn't look at you, you can see the smirk on her face and you begin to process that she just beat you. Again. "You've gotta be cheating!" You accuse, pressing the respawn button on your controller.

"No" She insists cutely with her whiny tone of voice "I'm just better than you" The simple shrug of her shoulders has you a bit salty. 

It's been like this all day. You both had today off, so really and truly there was no better way to spend it than to sit around all day playing video games. Truth be told, you were never a gamer before you met Mina. When she moved in with you, she brought her console too and you slowly went from watching her play occasionally to playing with her and even more than her sometimes.

"Yeah right, one more game" You run a hand through your messy hair.

Mina loves how stubborn you are, she sees it as one of your cutest traits. She just knows that although you say "one more game" you really mean "we'll play until I beat you" and it's even funnier that you refuse to admit that part.

Sure enough you end up playing four rounds instead of the 'one' you spoke of earlier "Don't you think we should be doing something else?" Mina mutters, reluctantly pressing the button for a rematch when you lose again. She glances at the time, noticing that you two have been at this all morning and it was just bleeding into the afternoon.

"Like what?" You bite your lip subconsciously, something you always did when you were trying to focus. 

"I dunno, you hungry? We could order something, watch tv, maybe go out later.." She suggests, but you barely hear any of it because not even a second after she finishes her sentence, you manage to finally beat her in the combat game. 

"Ha! See? You're not better than me, look I just beat you" You stand up and point to the tv. Mina only puts her controller to the side and she smiles at you calmly, nodding. It doesn't really matter to you in the moment that you've played maybe a total of sixteen matches, four of which you actually won. You silently appreciate her for not bringing up that part either. "Okay, what were you saying?" You turn off the console and plop back down on the couch.

"Maybe" She looks like she's actually thinking for a moment, then in the same instance she kind of stops and she gets this look on her face. An almost devilish smirk replaces her pondering pout and you're almost immediately intrigued about what's to come "I should give you a reward for winning"

She only has to scoot closer to you and lean her head in a few inches to catch your lips on hers. You kiss her back, hands on her waist so you can pull her to sit on your lap. "What kind of reward?" You decide to humor her cause why not and she can't hide her giggles when she presses on your shoulder to get you to lay back.

"Just lay down" Mina's voice is so wonderfully soft, almost healing to your ears when she says the three words. You first prop one of the throw pillows up against the armrest and you rest your head against it. Still in your lap, Mina leans down to put her lips back on yours and you can't get enough of them. So smooth and tender as you make out in your cozy living room.

When Mina pulls away, she shuffles backwards a bit and with the space she has, she lays flat on her belly between your legs. It's a big couch so she's able to fit there nice and comfy, arms resting on your thighs as she tugs on the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips to help her out.

 "You let me win, didn't you?" You figure

"Well, how else was I supposed to get your cock in my mouth?" She teases, pulling the garments off your legs. Your cock springs free from its confinements, semi-hard from the bit of kissing you did earlier. 

"You could've just a-asked—" Your tone of voice changes mid-way when Mina wraps her lips around your head, her moist inner cheeks wonderfully stimulating each nerve. 

She releases you with a subtle pop then she curls her fingers around your shaft, stroking up and down. "Where's the fun in that" The way she giggles feels a little more sinister and it genuinely sends a chill down your spine as you grow harder and harder in her hands. 

Mina leans over, sticking her tongue out to flick it against your tip "God" You bite your lip, forgetting to breathe while you make eye contact. It's like there's a greater force gluing your eyes to her making it impossible for you to look away. When she's got your cock at it's hardest—which doesn't take very long at all—she opens her mouth and takes you inside.

The descent is slow and easy for her for the first few inches. She starts to struggle the further she gets down and you're unable to focus on anything but the warmth of her mouth, the saliva coating your entire shaft and the tight squeeze her mouth gives your cock whenever she gags or swallows. It has your jaw clenching already. 

You grasp your t-shirt in your hands then you pull it over your head, stretching the cheap fabric a bit because you were rushing. "Mina" You sigh, as she gets her lips to touch your base. Tears welled up in her pretty eyes. They threaten to fall as she holds herself there and the absolute clutch of her throat is nearly perfect. 

First she has to remind herself to breathe through her nose before she comes up. Mina stops when she reaches the head then she plunges again, sliding your cock down the slot of her throat easier this time around. She manages to get herself in a rhythm, cheeks hollowed as she sucks you off, tongue dragging up and down the underside of your cock. "You're so good at that" You praise, lips parted as you take in the wonderful view.

Mina's so beautiful, you could spend hours just admiring her face, scanning each beauty mark and every subtle blemish on her porcelain skin. "So pretty" You whisper and she hums softly to let you know that she acknowledges your compliment. There's more you want to say but the words get caught up and stuck in your throat because she's got you speechless right now. As her eyes pierce through yours, you hope that she can understand at least a fragment of the love you feel for her in this moment. "I love you" You groan the confession like it's the first time you're saying it.

She comes back up, licking her lips as she wraps her hand around your base. She strokes you slowly and softly, that same shy giggle escaping her lips and you get high on it. "I love you more" Her tongue darts out to lick up the pre cum that's beginning to dribble down your shaft. Then she rubs the pad of her thumb in circles on your frenulum.

A moan escapes your lips and your body begins to squirm as she attacks the sensitive spot there. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from whimpering. She fists your cock again, then chases it with her mouth up and down with the twist of her wrists. 

You reach your hand out, running your fingers through her newly dyed ash hair and you brush it to the side when you notice that it was getting in the way. Her hand and her mouth moves together fast and you're not sure how much longer you'll be able to take it for. The way she can have your body almost trembling under her magical touch will always amaze you, no matter how many times she does this.

"M-Mina I'm close—fuck" You warn but she won't slow or stop. In fact, she's squeezing and sucking harder like she needs your load in her mouth as soon as possible. You know she'll swallow it all.

You end up biting into your fist, eyes squinting as your brows knit together right up until you cum. "Shit, I'm gonna.." Your cock pulses out the first few shots which hit the roof of Mina's mouth. She isn't at all phased by it though, in fact, she keeps her movements steady as she milks you for everything you've got, moaning eagerly at the taste. You finish it all off with a sigh and then she finally stops, taking you out of her mouth carefully so nothing spills out. 

Mina opens her mouth, proudly showing you the flood of semen thats pooled up inside where it belongs. Then she closes her lips together and she stops for a moment before she gulps it down. "You're amazing" You pant, watching weakly as she climbs up your body so you're face to face. She smiles before connecting your lips and your hands go to the hem of her top almost immediately and you slip them under just to feel her soft, bare skin on your hands.

She breaks the kiss, then she pulls her top off and her petite breasts are finally free "These too" You pull at the clingy fabric of her leggings, hearing the light noise it makes when it snaps back. 

"You ready for me already babe?" 

"You know I am" a smile grows on her face as she stands up from the couch to shimmy herself out of them, her hips swaying side to side with a naughty purpose. Finally, she steps out of them and kicks them to the side "Wait, leave them on" she stops just as she's about to take her panties off. She's wearing this black lacy underwear that clings to her ass so beautifully, it'd be a crime to remove them when they look so good on her.

Mina only shakes her head, a chuckle escaping her lips as she straddles you again "You're such a weirdo" She mutters, not giving you the chance to respond because she's making out with you again. This kiss lasts a little bit longer because you want to take your time with her perfect lips, sucking and licking on them as it gets sloppier. She begins moaning into your mouth because of the pressure your hard cock provides while it's pushed up against her cunt. "Fuck" She curses, lightly biting your lip as she grinds her hips forwards.

She reaches down, kissing you harder this time as she slides her dampened panties to the side because she doesn't want to spend another second empty. Mina has to hover a bit as she grabs your cock to aim the head with her slick entrance but she's so soaked that it ends up slipping past. You try not to, but you end up snickering and she glares at you before trying again. This time she gets it in, you know that much from the first feel of her tight cunt gripping the head. 

You both exhale deeply as Mina sinks herself down slowly, taking this opportunity to enjoy the stretch of your thick cock. When she's got you stuffed as deep as the position would allow, Mina picks up her hips and begins to rock forwards in slow motions. "So deep in me, it feels so good ah~"

The way Mina moves her body so smooth and fluid has you falling in love with her all over again. You let a harsh slap land on her round ass, hearing the sound of the sharp impact echo loudly in your living room. She yelps loudly, leaning over to hold herself up on your shoulders so she can move faster. Her warm walls hug you tightly, occasionally clenching when she closes the gap between you two. Your cock fits so perfectly inside of her, it's like you were made for each other.

"Mina" You moan once she begins to move her hips in a circular motion. It feels so insane that now you're gripping her ass tightly, probably leaving red hand marks on her pale skin. 

"Like that?" Mina smirks, looking deep into your hooded eyes moaning when your cock brushes past her g-spot. She puts her hands over yours, then guides them both up to her perky tits. You feel her stiff nipples poking your palms as you take the initiative to squeeze and knead the soft flesh thoroughly. "God your cock—it's so" She moans again, throwing her head back so her hair flys out of her face.

This is the perfect visual. Mina's god-like body on top of yours, every dangerous and deadly curve of hers highlighted with the sheet of sweat on her skin. Her eyes closed and her mouth wide open as she moans about how good your dick is, how she can ride it all day long and how it's tearing her apart among another mess of words you can't really make out. You listen good and well to everything she's saying because she absolutely means it, you can tell that much from the utter lust in her tone.

Mina lets herself loose on you like she's been thinking about it all day, thinking about how you'll fill and fuck her with your large cock. You're only able to watch as the subtle indicators begin to show themselves. Like when her moans go up an octave or when her movements become less calculated and more messy and feral. You also notice the way she leans down, capturing your lips once more and you can tell it's a silent plea for you to do something.

So that's exactly what you do. You hold her in place by her hips and you begin to piston your cock into her, your thighs meeting hers to make this thick meaty slapping noise. She nearly screams, unable to focus on kissing you when you're fucking her like this. "Yes! Fuck- Harder!" So much raw force, it's almost punishing. However, your purpose wasn't to "punish" her, it was more so to reward her for everything she did beforehand. 

She understands that.

When Mina buries her head into your neck, you're a hundred percent sure that you've got her right there. She breathes heavily into your skin, moaning and choking on her words with each deep thrust you give her. She hums loud and long "I'm cumming!" and then you begin to feel how tightly her cunt clenches and pulses around your cock as her wetness spills down your shaft. "Fuck- Yes baby!" She begins to shake, her body jerking and bucking in your grip.

With a long sigh, she stops calms down a bit, the aftershocks still causing her body to react occasionally. You give her maybe a second to recover before you slip your cock out of her and flip her so she's on her back. She's so out of it, she doesn't even realize that you've switched positions until you slide your cock back inside of her where it belongs. Mina gasps, feeling your cock reach different parts of her at this angle.

"I can't fucking-" What she's trying to say is that she can't believe that you're fucking her so good. Hard and deep. That's exactly how she likes it as you recall, and you've hardly even given her a moment to recover from the orgasm you just fucked her through. "Cum in me" she looks deep into your eyes when she says it and she's so serious about it.

You lean down, your temple to hers as you nearly fuck her through the couch. You're a little rough on her, you know that because you can hear the springs in the furniture starting to give. It's not really built for this kind of treatment but it's durable and it's been through worse than this.

The more your cock slides in and out of her, dragging all the way back to the tip only to bury itself into her again, the more animalistic you feel. It's the tight grip, her velvety walls and her hoarse voice moaning your name that's got you like this. You want nothing more than to empty your balls inside of Mina, fill her up and keep it lodged so deep that none of it spills out.

You barely even notice when you push her into another orgasm because you're too focused on that distinct feeling growing and burning like a hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach. "Oh... I'm gonna cum" You grit through your teeth, voice rough just before you nearly growl as you cum again, shooting countless ropes of warm white into her stretched cunt. She gasps, legs shaking as you continue to pound deep and slow into her, making sure you get everything out.

"Yeah, give me everything baby" She coos, fingers interlocking at the back of your neck. 

With a sigh your body finally relaxes and you put all of your weight on her body. When you're finally ready to talk after the long moment of silence you spend in your post-orgasm daze you lift your head and look into Mina's eyes. You know she's expecting your usual "I love you" after sex but instead you decide to mess with her a bit "So... pizza?"

She blinks "What?"

"Earlier you mentioned that we could order something and watch TV, right? I was just suggesting that we get pizza" She gives you an expecting look, like she's not going to give you a straight answer until you tell her what she really wants to hear "and I love you" You add on, leaning down to connect your lips with a grin on your face.

She can't help it when she smiles "Okay pizza then" she agrees.

-

You begin to think that maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to order pizza right before getting in the shower because you're both just stepping out when you hear the doorbell ring. Mina wraps her towel around her body "Well you're gonna have to get it cause I'm naked" She nods to herself as if there wasn't a towel wrapped around your waist also.

"So am I?" You try to argue as she walks into your bedroom. Her calm silence says enough and you figure you should just get the food cause you definitely won't win that fight. When you open the door, the delivery guy looks at you a little weird but you still tip him generously and mutter a small "thank you" at the end of the exchange.

When you get back in your shared apartment, you place the pizza on the coffee table and you turn off the lights before you join her in the bedroom to get into something comfy. 

"I can't believe you're making me watch this" Mina snuggles herself against you, squinting a bit to read the description of the show on the tv screen. You're cuddling and eating on the couch, yes the same couch you just fucked on, it's multi-purpose. You snicker at your own joke before realizing what she's just said.

"So you're genuinely telling me, you didn't enjoy the first season?" You ask, taking a bite of your pizza. It's only got pepperoni on it but it's a classic nonetheless.

Mina shakes her head "No I hated it actually" She corrects you, turning her head with her mouth open. You move your hand away, catching that she's trying to eat your food. She only whines, giving you those adorable eyes.

"There's like seven more slices right there, why do you want to eat mine" You point to it, nodding your head in the direction of the small table before you pick up the remote to play the show. 

It's Squid Game 2 that you're watching as you allow Mina to take a rather large bite of your pizza anyways, despite giving her a hard time about it. "I didn't wanna move" She says as she chews.

"Sure" You scoff, acting like you didn't absolutely love feeding her. Just babying Mina in general is one of your favorite things to do with her. She knows that from the way you swipe off a bit of tomato sauce from the corner of her lip but she fails to bring it up because she too enjoys it.

See there's nothing better than a lazy day in your book. It may have been really unproductive, but sometimes a little bit of a recharge with the person you love the most is the little boost you need to make the most of the following week.

Lazy days are good days

[zerocoded]

summary: when caleb appears at your front door on a random thursday night after faking his death for weeks, you can't help but want to punch him straight in the knees. lucky for you, you do just that.

authors note: this beautiful drawing that i'm using in the banner is from this lovely artist, credits to them! go check their x account ♡ ANYWAYS, the caleb post i've been daydreaming about the last two days is finally here. CALEB GIRLIES I GOT YOU. let's hold each other's hands until the 22nd comes. i hope i succeed in portraying a real mc bc i'm tired of seeing us being just happy when seeing caleb for the first time when BRO DECEIVED US and played with our emotions like that. without further bs, live laugh love caleb.

warnings: SLIGHT yandere!caleb • gaslighting and manipulation • sfw content • bad writing lol, be warned! • depressive thoughts • reader is on her grieving period • work exhaustion • mental illness mentioned • minor injury • manhandling and pining • height & size difference • caleb literally invades our home • fighting bc reader is a badass and tolerates no bitches • mc bites caleb's hands lol • others LI mentioned • one kissy scene hehe • caleb screams at mc once (boo) • ANGST Y'ALL!

word count: 6.1k

you're here┃caleb uses you as hostage at the farspace fleet next!┃caleb teaches you his love language ( on going series )

your apartment was silent, except for the faint hum of the city outside. tossing your jacket onto the back of the couch, you leaned against the wall, exhaling shakily. the weight of the day pressed down on you like a vice, your fingers brushing the edge of the message from linkon city hall still lying unopened on the counter.

confirmation of deceased: caleb. adoptive grandmother, dr. josephine. cause of death: explosion – classified incident.

you hadn’t needed to open it. the words were already carved into your memory, and the weight of them had crushed you all day. it didn’t matter that the explosion was months ago—seeing their names on an official report felt like losing them all over again.

you pushed away from the counter, willing your mind to focus on anything else. the hunter uniform hugged your frame perfectly, as it always had, and your reflection in the glass windows of your living room showed how tired you looked.

did anyone notice how wrecked you felt? you wondered if tara had gossiped to the other hunters about your predicament, and if she had left you alone because she somehow understood the weight of what had happened to you.

the message was awful. being asked to confirm the deaths of your loved ones had thrown you into a depressive spiral you hadn’t felt in days after returning from the N109 zone. your troublesome heart sometimes made you feel like you shouldn’t have even been born. when you trauma-dumped this on rafayel a few days ago, he had almost hit you with his paint brush, the words coming out of your mouth too much for him to process. the painter was pissed that you could think of yourself like that.

but that was how you felt—unworthy of being alive, because the person who raised you had been brutally killed.

why not me? you wondered.

linkon city was adorned with shiny skyscrapers, and your privileged view of the city made you feel even smaller, your grievance nothing more than a joke to the world outside of your apartment. knowing you’d have to show up to work again tomorrow added to the weight pressing down on your shoulders from choosing to be a deepspace hunter.

these last few weeks, you had questioned why you chose this job in the first place. since coming back from onychinus and befriending sylus of all people, you’d been thinking about your life decisions more frequently. sylus made you question every little thing you had once thought was a virtue, which now seemed like selfishness in disguise.

the man was good at disturbing your thoughts and making you feel things that put you on the spot.

you became a deepspace hunter because you were selfish. you wanted to make a difference, like the people you grew up with had made.

you wanted to be smart like zayne and attentive like josephine. you wanted to be helpful like caleb and as notorious as your other anhaunsen classmates. you wanted to do anything to escape the feeling you’d had since birth—uselessness.

as you sank deep into the living room cushions and exhaled heavily into the lonely air of your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text from zayne.

fate was joking with you today.

are you okay?, it read.

his worry made your heart flutter a little before sadness took over your entire form again.

you didn’t have the heart to respond. lying required more strength than you had in that moment, so you tossed your phone onto the center table and ignored him.

i’m sorry, zayne, i wish i was stronger for you.

your stomach rumbled, and your ribs ached. earlier in the evening, you had let a wanderer get too close before killing it, distracted as you were. the mistake had left you with a swollen rib and a deep sense of shame. you’d promised to take care of it when you got home, but right now, all you could do was discard a few of your sharp weapons onto the floor before dozing off on the couch.

you’d probably hate yourself in the morning for sleeping with these tight boots on.

for you, the hardest part wasn’t the silence left behind. it wasn’t the way the world seemed to keep spinning while yours had shattered. the hardest part was feeling like you needed to smile, to nod politely when people said, “stay strong,” as if strength could stitch together the pieces of your broken heart.

the hardest part was the way people looked at you, expecting you to move forward, to let the memories be enough. but how could you, when the smell of smoke still haunted your nightmares, when you could still hear caleb’s laughter drowned by the deafening roar of the explosion? how could you heal when your soul was still bleeding, the wounds too fresh, the pain still pouring out with every breath you tried to take?

how could you move forward when you still couldn’t clench your fists as strong as you were accustomed to because you were thrown into the air and broke both of them at the incident?

you wondered if it would ever be enough, and if someday you’d find out who was responsible for all of this pain.

the kitchen candles were the only light in the room when you heard the doorbell ring. sharp and sudden, it cut through the haze and fought off your sleepiness in a second, your hunter’s bells ringing warningly.

your heart jumped, and your hand instinctively went to your side where your pistol usually rested, only to find it absent. you’d left it in your locker at the deepspace headquarters, thinking you wouldn’t need it tonight.

the bell rang again, more insistent this time.

“probably xavier,” you muttered, trying to shake off the lingering unease. your neighbor and cute colleague had been away on a special mission as a hunter. his absence had started to feel noticeable in the quiet moments.

you liked spending time with xavier because he seemed to understand you on another level. he never seemed to expect anything from you, which made grieving next to him a little less daunting. you missed his midnight visits and occasional talks about claw machines and stupid wanderers, and you wished he would respond to your texts asking when he was coming back.

you felt like you needed to hear his voice right now.

without thinking much, you unlocked the door, combat boots still on and dark circles framing your usually bright eyes.

“took you long enough—”

the words died on your lips.

it wasn’t xavier.

standing in your doorway, dressed in a pristine daa military uniform, was a man—ridiculously intimidating and strange. he looked at you with judgment and arrogance, making you step back a little and guard more of yourself.

thank god you still had your uniform on and wasn’t wearing some flimsy nightgown. the man seemed to be eating you alive in his head.

before you had the chance to question the stranger’s presence at your door on this random thursday night, he tossed you aside and pressed you against the corridor wall of your kitchen, your breath instantly hitched and your ribs ached from the impact.

your hunter’s awareness triggered instantly, instincts flaring and mind still trying to process what the hell was going on. your hands struggled against his grip, desperately searching for an evol to resonate with. if your mind had already been spiraling out of control before, now you felt like you could fight a thousand wanderers at once and focus on surviving with mere instinct.

you couldn’t scream. his right hand clamped over your mouth, his left gripping both your wrists in front of your chest and preventing you from punching him like you planned to. somehow, this was a professional individual who knew your fighting mannerisms and wrestling tendencies by heart.

with great effort, you managed to bite his hand that was closest to your mouth and heard his pained grunt right after. you swore you heard him cussing before his head raised and his eyes finally met yours.

your heart stopped. the world narrowed to the faint outline of his silhouette as you finally were able to look at his face. his hair was concealed beneath a presumptuous cap, the daa symbol shining bright at its center. black, red, and gold adorned the unknown uniform of the man who handled your body as if it were weightless, plastic.

you thrashed and twisted in his grip until he was forced to pin both your hands above your head, hissing when you managed to land a kick on his right knee. the door clicked shut beside you as he silenced your attempted scream with his hand again.

amethystine eyes stared back at you, thick brows furrowed as your gazes locked. chills ran down your spine. your hunter uniform pressed uncomfortably against the wall, your combat boots barely touching the floor. yet, despite your effort, he towered over you.

you wanted to cry.

the hidden freckles were the first clue your mind was playing tricks on you, the shape of his mouth the second, and his skin tone the third. countless times since the explosion, you’d dreamed of caleb’s touch—more nights than you could count. but as the weight of the day bore down on you, your fighting spirit waned, the initial rush of adrenaline fading as you stared into his eyes.

everything felt cruelly unfair.

his gaze was uncharacteristically hard as he watched you, his bruising grip on your mouth and wrists warming for a moment before you snapped out of your daze.

a smirk made way to his lips and his stupidly manly perfume set itself on your senses. another attempt at kicking him made him press himself further into you, ribs screaming from the pressure. if he noticed your pained expression, he didn’t mention it at all.

“caleb,” you whispered, the name barely audible. your voice cracked, your body frozen in place, your mind unable to reconcile the impossible reality before you.

he didn’t seem to hear you, but his hand left your mouth, his gaze sweeping over your body and his face so close to yours you could count his naturally defined lashes.

the tension between you two shifted as he eyed you closer, curious eyes landing on your pretty figure. he could swear for a moment you wouldn’t recognize him and that thought perturbed his mind for the next few seconds he allowed himself to bask in your beauty.

caleb was familiar with the sight of you in a hunter’s uniform, but never had he seen you looking this wrecked.

so pretty, but so unfairly exhausted, he thought.

in the weeks leading up to the explosion, he’d promised himself he’d never let you get hurt by ever ever again. now, seeing you like this, he wondered if things looked different from your perspective.

would you hate him?

would you hate him for the decisions he made? for the people he deceived and the families he destroyed? for the secrets he exposed so he could be at advantage and fight for you from a more privileged position?

would you hate him for wanting you all to himself and sharing the same fate as him as a human experiment? for wanting to take you to the ever base and expose you to everyone right before killing them? for being the demise of your life but still wanting to keep you as close as possible?

would you still love him after he told you all of the wrongings he did to make things right for you and him?, he wondered.

the look in your eyes told you no, and because of that, his grip on your pinned hands loosened, the silence between you two remaining charged with tension. he saw the exact moment reality crashed down on you. your gaze faltered, and for a moment, you looked like you were going to cry.

he would hate to see you cry because of him, even though deep down he knew how lovely you looked while pouring your eyes out. he have seen it a thousand times before. caleb wanted to make you cry in other circumstances, not right now.

his lips pressed into a forced smile, and your breath hitched as his eyes shone faintly in the dim light of the kitchen candles. though the light wasn’t very effective, the touch of his gloved hand was enough to confirm the truth: this wasn’t a fucking stranger.

caleb felt when you stopped fighting and caved into his touch, scared to death. he let go of your mouth and stared right at your lips.

“no,” you muttered, shaking your head as if to clear a hallucination. your hands remained bound, your feet still searching for the floor. “this can’t be true.”

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “it’s me.” his voice was calm, too familiar, too real. too cruel.

your body trembled with his tone, his breath fanning on your cheeks while your eyes scanned his. it felt wrong to say anything at the moment, fear still there in your eyes.

your body snapped into action, reality slamming into you like a tidal wave. you raised your knee, aiming to knock him off balance, desperate to banish the ghost standing in your kitchen.

but the colonel moved faster.

his hand shot out, catching your leg with unnerving precision. before you could react, he hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly.

you stumbled, panic surging through your veins. your instincts screamed at you to fight, to move, to do something.

“let me go” you demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts fear and fury, punching his back in a futile attempt to stop him. “who are you? who sent you?”

“i came to see you,” he said simply, his voice steady and unnervingly calm. his eyes darted around the apartment, scanning every corner like a predator assessing its prey. “you didn’t think i’d stay away forever, did you?”

why did he sound so smug and heartless? it pissed you off.

realization set heavy on your shoulders—did he... did he fake his own death?

“you’re a fucking asshole.” you didn’t care that this man was more than six feet tall or that he wore a military uniform of all things, you kicked and screamed as much as you could after he threw you onto the couch—the very place you’d landed earlier that evening.

the moment he released you, you inched toward the center table where your spare weapon was stashed.

caleb’s smile faltered, replaced by something darker. his voice dropped, softer but laced with unsettling intensity. “i hope you cooperate from now on, pipsqueak.”

the words sent a chill down your spine.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you spat, pistol in hand, ready to aim.

his gaze flicked to your movement, and before you could react, he was there. his hand closed around your wrist, pinning it to the couch with a force that made you gasp.

“you’re not going to hurt me, pipsqueak,” he murmured, his tone almost teasing, though the intensity in his purple eyes told a different story. “i’d never hurt you. you know that.”

you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding as fear twisted into anger. “let me go, caleb.”

“not until you listen,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “will you stop fighting and thrashing around? i need to see if you are ready”

“ready for what?” you spat, your voice trembling with rage.

“for us,” he said simply, his tone calm, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them pressing down on you like a storm. “what the hell is ‘us’? you died. i watched you fucking die, asshole.”

he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours, his voice a low whisper. “and i came back—for you.”

the weight of his presence, his words, was suffocating. for a moment, you froze, your mind racing for a way out.

it sounded so intimate, so romantically unsettling having him above you and saying things that made your heart clench. you hoped the hurt in your eyes was visible to the man. you hoped he still had sympathy and felt guilt somewhere underneath that uniform.

caleb stepped back, releasing your wrist but still blocking your path, his expression softening slightly as he examined you. “i need you to be quiet until i can tell you everything.”

“who do you think you are? you filthy liar”. 

caleb’s gaze flickered as your words hung between you, unspoken accusations slicing through the air like shards of glass. he shifted his weight, his broad frame now more a shadow than a presence in the dim room. for a moment, it seemed like he might say something—anything—but instead, he exhaled, a quiet sound that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.

"you look as pretty as always, princess", his whisper reached your ears and you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

"i don't know what you did to caleb, but right now is not the time for games". you spat the words with disgust.

"you think you know anything?" he asked, voice low but steady. his eyes, catching the faint glow of the candlelight, held yours. he looked scary above you. 

"you think that you are right?," you bit back, the ache in your ribs forgotten under the pressure of the moment. "faking a death isn’t something i take lightly in my books”.

his jaw tightened, the faintest tremor in his hand betraying him as he sighed. the silence stretched again, taut and heavy, before he finally spoke. “trust me to take care of you as i always did, pipsqueak, i just need more cooperation from you this time. i needed to do that so I could've gotten rid of josephine”.

the vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, stealing whatever biting retort was forming on your tongue. you searched his face, the faint scars etched into his skin, the weariness in his eyes. "what the fuck did you just say?" you said softly, your voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. 

caleb’s expression shifted as he saw the tense tone of your voice, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. regret? anger? it was gone too fast to tell. "i said what i said," he replied, his tone measured, almost calm—too calm. "josephine was a threat. she had to go, and i handled it and you should put this in your mind and move on."

"you handled it?" the words came out as a growl. the disbelief, the rage, the grief—it all boiled over. "you’re talking about the woman who raised me, caleb. who raised you. and you expect me to just—what—trust that you had your reasons? that it’s fine because you handled it?"

you got up from the sofa and watched him tower over you once again, not being afraid to fight him out of your house this time. you took a step further and watched the surprise on his face mix with a hint of mischief.

"you must have lost your mind, who the fuck sent you here? answer me." you asked, your voice sharper now, frustration spilling over.

he stepped closer, the shadow he cast stretching long across the dim room. his voice dropped, soft but firm, the kind of tone that brooked no argument. "the sooner you accept the truth, the easier all of this will turn out for you. josephine was a loose thread that could put you at harm and, trust me, i won’t let anything or anyone put you at risk."

"shut up," you snapped, your hands shaking as they clenched into fists. "don’t you dare put this on her. don’t you dare tell me you did this for me." you pushed past him, pacing to the other side of the room as if distance could lessen the fury building inside you. "you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m going anywhere with you. you—i mourned you, caleb".

caleb turned, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locking onto yours. "you don’t have a choice," he said simply. "if you want a chance of surviving, you’ll accompany me to the farspace fleet so you can prove to me that you are not a threat, this isn’t a quest, Y/N.”

"stop acting like you’re my savior," you shouted, spinning to face him. "you lied to me, faked your death, and now you show up here, in my home, telling me what to do? you’ve lost the right to give me orders, caleb. i don’t have to prove you shit"

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, something like frustration flashed across his face. "you’re impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to you. “don’t make me take you by force, princess, this is already hard enough for me”.

his presence felt heavier now, more intimidating and more overwhelming. “hear me out on this one, pipsqueak, you do as i say and we can have a nice chat. there’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room, can’t you see? you do what you’re told and you don’t cause any trouble, this is my final warning”.

caleb’s gaze didn’t waver, feelings too strong for him to back down.

“you think i trust you wholeheartedly as well? don’t you think i know about what you’re capable to do, what weapon they made you become?”, he questioned, raising more questions about your past to the surface.

you hesitated, your chest heaving as you glared at him, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to run, to do anything but listen.

“you think i don’t know what you’re capable of? you’ve got every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in danger and i’m the only one who can keep you alive.”

he stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the tiled kitchen floor, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with your unease. the space between you vanished with every deliberate step he took, and before you realized it, the cool edge of the counter pressed against your back.

“i came here to get you so i can protect you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tender, though his eyes burned with something far less kind. “won’t you trust me, pipsqueak?”

you swallowed hard, your ribs aching as the tension tightened around you like a vice. the pain flared again on your right side, but you forced it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your weakness. caleb’s arms came up, caging you between them, his palms braced on the counter on either side of you. his breath was warm against your skin, the faint scent of mossy perfume and something metallic clinging to him.

his amethystine eyes locked onto yours, drawing you in and daring you to look away. “josephine wasn’t innocent,” he murmured, the words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last. “she was the only way left they could get to you easily. so i had to get rid of her.”

the shock and fury bubbling in your chest clawed their way to the surface, but before you could lash out, he moved. slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands, his movements calm but weighted with unspoken meaning. his right hand hovered between your bodies as he tugged off his glove, revealing cold, gleaming metal where flesh once was.

your breath hitched, your eyes widening despite yourself. the intricate machinery of his prosthetic glinted dully in the dim light, a jarring contrast to the warmth of his other hand still braced beside you.

“i didn’t get out of there without paying a price,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, the faintest hint of bitterness creeping into his words. “if that makes you feel better.”

the sight of the metal, the weight of his confession, sent your mind reeling. you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the fury that kept you standing, but the cracks in his armor—the familiar of his voice, the faint tremor in his hand—made it harder to breathe.

“turns out i gave them everything they wanted to have even more control over my body,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, studying your reaction like a predator watching prey. “you’re not the only ever victim in this room, princess, don't you see?”

his words hit like a punch to the gut, the nickname twisting something deep inside you. your eyes burned, the sting of unshed tears making your vision blur. compassion clawed its way forward, fighting against the iron grip of your fury.

he leaned closer, his voice softening, wrapping around you like a velvet noose. “don’t you see now? i’m your only way out. only i can make you safe, princess.” his head tilted slightly, his gaze piercing through the layers of anger and fear you’d built around yourself. “why don’t you see it?”

the way he said it—like it was inevitable, like you were foolish for resisting—sent a fresh wave of defiance coursing through you. your fingers twitched at your sides, curling into fists. the tears threatening to spill were not ones of submission but of frustration, of fury that he could twist your pain and vulnerability into leverage.

your hands trembled as you shoved against his chest, trying to create even an inch of space between you. “you’re the danger here, caleb.”

his expression hardened, though the faintest flicker of something else—hurt? regret?—crossed his features. he caught your wrists before you could push him further, his grip firm but not painful, his proximity suffocating.

“i won’t let you go this time,” he said, his voice quieter now, the sharp edge replaced with something closer to desperation. his eyes seemed to ignore every red signal your body emitted. “what are you afraid of, pipsqueak? c'mon, it’s me, caleb”.

the charged silence that followed was unbearable, the tension between you a living, breathing thing. the weight of his words, the intensity in his gaze—it all felt too much, too close, and yet not close enough.

“answer me.”, he demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. “you need me, Y/N.”

you wanted to scream, to shove him back, to wipe that look of control and simmering frustration off his face, but the words stuck in your throat. it wasn’t fear keeping you quiet—it was the truth you didn’t want to admit. the truth you couldn’t admit.

“you don’t get to do this,” you managed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “you don’t get to leave me, fake your death, and then come back like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just—just fall in line and listen to you.”

his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. instead, he exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as his grip on your wrists loosened ever so slightly. “i didn’t come back for you to listen,” he said, his tone soft but laced with an edge of frustration. “i came back to make sure you survive. with me.”

“you are crazy” you spat, shaking your head as you finally yanked your hands free from his grasp. “i don't know why you changed so much. you call this survival? being hunted, manipulated, dragged into whatever mess you’ve made? that’s not survival, caleb. that’s hell.”

“didn’t you want answers?!” he snaps, his voice cutting through the charged silence like a whip. his tone is sharp, frustration crackling in the air between you. for a moment, you flinched at his tone. “answers about your past, about granny, about the aether core that lives inside of you?”. he motions for your chest and you lean away from him.

caleb throws his daa hat on the floor and runs his gloved hand over his hair, desperation clinging into his actions. a move you were so used to seeing him doing as a teenager now seemed to paint his figure as someone totally different.

“guess what,” he continues, stepping closer, his boots scraping against the floor as the small space between you shrinks to nothing. “i’m the only one who can give you that.”

your back hits the counter again, the cold surface biting through your shirt as his presence looms over you. his hands grip the edge of the counter on either side of you, boxing you in, and his voice drops lower, quieter, but no less intense. “i know you’ve been looking for the truth. don’t pretend you haven’t. every decision you’ve made, every risk you’ve taken, it’s all been for answers.”

the weight of his words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, as if the walls of the apartment were closing in. his voice, low and deliberate, carried the kind of certainty that felt like a blade against your resolve. you hated that he knew so much, hated the way his presence seemed to draw out every buried question, every lingering doubt you’d tried so hard to silence.

the truth of it stung more than you wanted to admit. because it was true—wasn’t it? every decision, every desperate move you’d made since josephine’s death had been about finding the missing pieces. about understanding why your life felt like a jigsaw puzzle with crucial parts deliberately torn away.

you grew up with people like zayne and caleb so you’d become the best version of yourself. still, you felt unworthy of everything you have ever achieved.

you were... at a loss of words.

your ribs screamed in pain against the counter, the cold seeping through your shirt and grounding you in the moment. you wanted to push him away, to snap back with something that would shatter the arrogance in his voice. but instead, you found yourself staring at him—really staring—seeing the desperation etched into every line of his face. it wasn’t just his words that rattled you; it was the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of something far greater than just your shared past.

you noticed the tremor in his hand, the way it lingered too long on the counter’s edge, as if he were holding himself back from reaching for you. the way his eyes, though sharp and unrelenting, flickered with something almost... pleading.

caleb seemed to be holding himself back—as he always did. this time, though, you were not sure if you wanted him to break and consume you or to let you go and forget the two of you. this was the first time in your life where you felt close enough to the truth, close enough to calm the storm of questions in your mind. still, your grip on your ego seemed to be as tight as ever.

everything felt unfair because you were oh so tired. since onychinus, sylus and the aether core, your mind has been settled into finding answers of questions that were never asked in the first place. you were running in circles and you dreamed every night about how you missed caleb. how you knew he would guide you into the right path if he was alive at the moment.

now that he was here, something felt uncharacteristically right for the first time in weeks.

you need me, he said.

it was a bold statement, a manipulative one, but the worst part was the whisper of doubt it planted in your mind. what if he’s right? what if caleb, with all his possessive behavior, really did have the answers you’d been chasing? could you afford to ignore him—risk losing whatever truth he claimed to hold—just because you didn’t trust him right now? just because his posture changed and his eyes seemed a little darker?

had you the privilege of saying no to him?

you have always been so weak for him, haven't you?

your gaze dropped to his gloved hand, still gripping the counter, then to the hat he’d thrown carelessly onto the floor. there was something raw about the gesture, something that pulled at a part of you you’d long thought buried. it was the same caleb you remembered, the one who’d run his hands through his hair in frustration when things didn’t go his way, but now there was a hardness to him, an edge that made him almost unrecognizable.

he leaned in slightly, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. caleb’s hands cradled your face with an unsettling gentleness, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to memorize every inch of your skin. his breath, warm and steady, fanned over your face, and the proximity made your pulse race despite every instinct screaming at you to pull away.

“do as i say, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of honeyed persuasion and steel. “you know deep down that i’m right.”

you hated how easily he saw through you, how his words made your chest tighten with the weight of unspoken truths. but there was a flicker of something else now—a sliver of curiosity, of reluctant consideration.

you stayed in silence.

“you’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the words were meant for no one but you. “what are you afraid of, princess? me?”.

his breath fanned over your cheek, the tension between you felt alive, electric, as if the air itself buzzed with anticipation. caleb’s hands cradled your face with a deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing your jawline like he was afraid you’d shatter under his touch. his thumbs traced lazy circles just below your cheekbones, sending faint shivers rippling down your spine.

caleb was very meticulous about the way he touched you. his words—carved in desperation just for you. he brushed away the tears you were shedding, breath in synch with yours as if he wanted for you to share your burden with him.

his thumb brushed against your skin, warm and steady, the faintest hint of mint and wood lingering in the space between you. the closeness made your pulse quicken, the steady rhythm in your chest now erratic and impossible to ignore. his forehead almost touched yours, his lips dangerously close but not quite there, as if he were savoring the moment, drawing it out until the anticipation was unbearable.

you gripped his forearms, confused at the needy feeling clawing its way out of your chest, the longing for closeness and safety that your brain always seemed to tie with the body in front of you. the tenderness he reserved only for you made your heart flutter despite the cruel truths and harsh words that had passed between you.

“what are you afraid of, princess?” he murmured again, his voice impossibly soft, like a velvet thread weaving its way into your thoughts. “it’s just me.”

the way he said it—low and intimate, like he was speaking to the deepest parts of you—made your knees weak.

his metal hand slid down from your face, the cool pads of his fingers brushing over the curve of your neck and coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. the weight was grounding, steadying, but it also sent sparks racing across your skin. the meaning behind his touch was at odds with the coldness of his prosthetic; it felt like both a tether and a promise.

you wondered if he was using your evol against you, manipulating your emotions, or if it was just your stupid, traitorous heart making you feel like you were floating.

your breaths came shallow and uneven as the tension between you thickened, palpable and inescapable. his gaze flickered to your lips, the intensity in his eyes making your stomach twist with anticipation. you hated how much you noticed the way he leaned closer, the way his presence filled every inch of the space around you, until there was nothing left but him.

“you don’t have to be scared of me,” he said softly, his lips brushing the words into the air between you. “i’d never hurt you.”

the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think of a reason to stop him, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours, slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. the kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide, waiting to see if you would break the moment or lean into it. and for a heartbeat, you froze, the shock of it rooting you in place.

but the tenderness of his kiss, the way his hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as if to steady himself, drew you in. your fingers curled into his forearms, no longer in protest but in something closer to surrender, the heat of his closeness chasing away the cold air of the room. you felt something stir deep inside you when you felt the dips of his muscles underneath his uniform.

when did he became so big?

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a mix of urgency and restraint, as though he were holding back a tidal wave of emotion. you felt the shift in him—the desperation, the longing he’d tried to bury under layers of control. it poured out now, raw and unguarded, and it pulled something equally raw from within you.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and uneven. his hands stayed where they were, steadying you as much as himself, and for a moment, the silence between you felt heavier than any words could.

“just me,” he whispered again, his voice breaking slightly, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.

you're here┃caleb uses you as hostage at the farspace fleet next!┃caleb teaches you his love language ( on going series )

author's note: want to cry more while reading? listen to remember me by d4vd and tell me that this song doesn't describe mc and caleb perfectly. SORRY FOR THE POOR ENDING, i'll make a part two of this post soon, follow me to get updated when i post or just check my masterpost from time to time :) send me a request • my masterpost

[no-144444]

famous or not- c.sainz

summary: everything falls apart?

pairing: carlos sainz x fem! actor! reader

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It wasn’t the plan for everything to fall apart, but that’s just kind of what happened… 

For the first few months, everything between you two had been great. Carlos adored you, treated you like a princess, and you did the same to him. Your relationship was full of romantic dates, cozy nights in, and various trips to races to support. 

Then, he stopped returning your calls, stopped answering your messages, and really only came to you for one thing. He was stressed, you knew it. The new season had just started and he’d been struggling to out-pace Alex, let alone get in the points. You gave him grace. You gave him time. 

That was until Miami. He’d gotten in the points. He’d out-performed Alex. He’d done it. So you went out. And half way through the night you lost him, and just stayed with the other girls instead. When you woke up, you were not expecting to see photos of your boyfriend tonguing another girl. You called him, you texted him, you did everything. 

Still, no response. 

You didn’t go to the next 3 races. You left him alone, assuming you both knew you two weren’t together anymore (especially considering the fact that you explicitly told him you two were done), and you moved on with your life. Did it hurt? Yes. Were you going to let the world know that? No. 

It all kicked up again after a damn interview on the red carpet of your new film. 

“What about your alleged boyfriend Carlos Sainz? Is he here tonight?” 

You laughed. “Oh him? We were just fucking, nothing too interesting there.” 

It was meant to be a throw-away comment. He wasn’t even meant to care. 

But then he was standing in your hallway with a hardened look on his face, and you gulped. 

“Hi,” you smiled politely. “Nice to see you again.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a premiere,” he said, his voice low, warning. 

“We’re not together,” you shrugged, putting your coat away. “I didn’t think you’d need to know.”

He scoffed. “Who says we’re not together?”

“Me,” you answered plainly. 

“You don’t just get to-”

“Oh, I do though. You didn’t respond to me for weeks, Carlos. There’s photos of you kissing other girls, and guess what, I’m not just going to be your girlfriend for the weekends and let you off because you’re an F1 driver,” you scoffed. “You can go now. We’re done.” 

“Baby, what? They don’t matter, and even if they did, I only want you. Sometimes… things happen, and we don’t mean them to,” he shrugged, trying to get closer to you, but you just walked further into your home. 

“I’m not one of the girls that let those things ‘just happen’, Carlos. If you’re with me, you’re with me. Not some random groupie, not some girl you’ve just met, me. Now, please leave.”

He grabbed your arm. “Come on, you enjoyed being my WAG so much-”

“If you’re only doing this to get Williams more popularity, I suggest you fuck off,” You cursed, grabbing your arm out of his hand.

“You’re not famous enough for that anyway,” he mumbled. 

“Oh! So now I’m not famous enough for you? Pick one, you dick,” you laughed, your blood boiling as he continued insulting you. 

“Cariño, calm down,” he said, and there was silence. Mostly because your jaw was dropped at his fucking audacity. “You must admit, I did have a hand in making you more… popular.” 

You laughed in his face. Angrily and loud. “Go fuck yourself! Oh my god, the sun actually doesn’t shine out of your arsehole, though I know James has made you believe that! I am far more famous than you are, because you’ll always just be the guy that Lewis Hamilton replaced.”

You were both quiet. You’d hit a nerve. 

“Well that’s…” he trailed off. “I’ll see myself out.”

And that was that. He never bothered you again. 

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williams & merc masterlist (omfg it's so weird to write that ew)

navigation for my blog :)

[deadhands69]

Online Girlfriend

MDNI loser!Shigaraki x Reader

Request from anon Contains: gn/afab reader, mostly smut: face sitting, sex (m behind), lots of cum. [wc: 2k]

“Why’d you put the work in, no one’s gonna show up.” Dabi laughed across the room at Shigaraki who put in some low-level effort to be presentable (showered.)  “You’re being catfished.”

“Hey, don’t listen to him. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” assured Spinner, who remains skeptical but supportive. He’d like to think there’s at least some hope for one of them to actually get a date.

Tomura’s phone dings.

running late, sorry! still otw!

Rushing, you try to make up the time you lost when a traffic jam caused all transportation to be rerouted. It’s not a great start, for the first time you’re meeting your online boyfriend but it is what it is. 

The two of you hit it off in a discord chat for your favorite game and haven’t stopped talking since. The past few months of chatting have been great so you finally asked to meet in person. It felt like the next step. Admittedly, you’ve also been really horny lately and are hoping to do something about that.

Typically, you’d be worried about meeting someone from the internet but he seems real enough. The photos he sent you were cute. Not perfect in a conventional way, like something you’d expect from someone pretending to be someone else. These were real. They were dark and grainy, taken by someone who isn’t used to taking selfies. Even with the low-quality images and hair covering most of his face, you could tell he’s attractive. He has nice collarbones and a cute smile. On top of that, he’s smart. Having a weird amount of information about nearly everything. He’s funny too, in a dark way. You feel like you could talk to him about anything.

Finally, you made it!

Shoving through the door into the bar he’d sent you the address of earlier, you see that it’s pretty empty. You’d recognize his silvery-blue hair anywhere though. 

“Hi, Tomura!” you take a seat next to him, “I’m [y/n], it’s so good to finally meet you!”

Spinner and Dabi stare in amazement, you’re a lot prettier than they expected. Tomura notices this too. For all the flirting and suggestive messages he’d sent you online, he completely freezes the moment he lays eyes on you. Staring like a deer in the headlights.

Okay, so he’s a little awkward. That’s fine.

The two of you make some conversation. Bumbling through small talk until you start talking about games and he loosens up a bit. After an hour, he still can’t look directly at you without stuttering, but he’s rambling excitedly about the newest patch.

“I just downloaded it, if you want to play. Come on,” he gestures, “I live upstairs.”

As if he only just realized he asked you to be alone in his bedroom with him, his jaw drops and he begins to stammer again. 

“I… I didn’t mean to, like...uh. If you’re uncomfortable -” 

You grab his arm, pulling him from the stool. “Lead the way,” you smile.

The two in the corner, who you’ve since learned are his friends, look shocked as you walk past them to the exit.

Tomura Shigaraki’s room isn’t clean per say, but at least he remembered to take the bags of trash out this morning. He’s glad for that since he definitely didn’t think he’d be bringing you back to his place. You watch as he wiggles the mouse to wake his computer up, middle finger hovering. He has nice hands, you decide.

“Uhm,” he starts uncomfortably, “it’s a pretty big patch. So it’s not done downloading yet.”

The estimated time remaining jumps between two hours and three days as the internet speed flickers.

“That’s okay, we can find other ways to kill the time,” you run your fingers softly over his shoulder. It’s nice to touch him for the first time, feel that he’s real. 

tomura.exe is no longer responding

His body stiffens at the closeness. This is what he wanted, right? Why else would he bring you up to his room?

“If that’s okay with you?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out, letting you pull him to his bed. He lays flat out while you climb over him, straddling his hips. He whimpers slightly and you can feel that he’s already hard. Awkwardly, his hands hover at your thighs. You didn’t expect your discord boyfriend to have a ton of experience, but seeing just how nervous you make him is… hot.

“Okay, is there anything I should know? Places you like to be touched?” your fingers graze his collarbone before running down his chest. Feeling the warmth of his body through the thin shirt. “Or anywhere you don’t like being touched?”

“No,” he breathes huskily, before sighing “...y-yes.”

“Don’t… y-you can’t touch all five of my fingers at the same time,” he gulps, “it’s my quirk.” Without being able to find the right words to explain, he grabs an empty energy drink can that’s in reach. It crumbles to dust instantly. 

You’re fucking kidding, you think. This bumbling mess underneath you has that strong of a quirk? How has that never come up? It only turns you on more, knowing he has the strength to take out half the world but melts into a puddle when you so much as breathe in his direction. 

He makes eye contact with you for the first time before biting his lip and looking away. It’s as if he’s waiting for you to say nevermind. To get up and leave. There’s something so sweetly pathetic in all of it.

“Cute,” you say, pressing his hands back into the bed by his wrists. Fingers snaking up his palms. He looks confused. No one has ever called him ‘cute’ before. It’s also the closest he’s ever been to holding hands with someone and he nearly cums from that alone.

He groans as your lips lightly move over his. Careful not to kiss him too hard, he’s already excited and you still want to fuck him later. With the way his breath hitches at a small kiss on the neck, you decide to move faster.

Standing up, you begin taking off your clothes and tell him to do the same. 

You planned for this. While you didn’t absolutely expect him to fuck on the first date, you certainly dressed for it. It’s not full-on lingerie or anything but you put on the nicer underwear for the occasion. Judging by the look on his face he notices and appreciates this. Too flustered to manage the button on his black skinny jeans.

“Here,” you climb back over him, “let me.”

They’re tight so it takes a bit of effort to pull them over his ever-growing bulge. When you finally manage to pull his pants over his feet, you pause to admire the sight. 

He’s beautiful.

More toned than you would have expected under all of his clothes. Pale skin contrasting with the black of his underwear, his lightly pink tip poking out from under the elastic.

“Have you ever touched anyone before?” you ask, already knowing the answer. He shakes his head. 

“Okay,” you move closer, “let's start there.”

You pull his trembling hands to your sides. Two fingers hover above your hips.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles staring up at you.

“Take my underwear off,” you instruct.

Of course, he does exactly what you asked him to. He’s slightly clumsy at it, but you expect that. He’s never done this before and he’s being overly cautious. His jaw drops at the sight of you.

“Bra,” once more, he does as you say. Already panting underneath you.

You crawl over his body, careful to brush the hard length of him as you go. He whines at the contact.

“I take it you’ve never eaten anyone out before either, huh?” you ask rhetorically. 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, strands of baby blue falling in his face.

“You’ll learn fast,” you whisper while brushing his hair back to the bed. 

Placing your hands on his headboard, you move your knees to each side of his head. His eyes widen as you sink onto him. You rock your hips forward, bringing his nose to brush your clit. He moans before licking where he can. 

“Just like that,” you exclaim when he hits a sensitive spot. 

He takes instruction well, slowly improving as you go. His movements are still a bit sloppy, but the friction of his skin against you is enough. You’re at the edge -

“Oh fuck,” he groans under you. His body tenses and he shoves his face further into you. Turns out it’s all you needed too. Reaching down, you grip his hair while you ride out your orgasm.

You pull away, leaving his face slick. He catches his breath as you assess the situation. As you assumed, you weren’t the only one who just came. His stomach and chest are covered in ropes of his own doing. Of course you didn’t mean to make him cum so fast, you didn’t even touch him. You were looking forward to fucking him too.

He grabs a shirt from the floor, wiping himself off.

“Do you always cum that fast?” you tease. 

“Uh, sorry. C-can we keep going?” he chews the skin of his bottom lip nervously.

“You want to keep going?”

“Yeah,” he says more confidently than you’ve heard him speak all afternoon, “I can last longer if you give me a chance. I promise.”

You look him over. He looks pretty fucked out but he’s already hard again.

“Just tell me what to do,” he stares up at you with his beautiful red eyes and you can’t help but give in.

A minute later, he’s behind you. Lining himself up at your instruction.

“Like this?”

“Yeah. Okay, now slide up and in. Slowly,” he does as you say, poking around slightly before you feel his tip press in. You look over your shoulder at him, his jaw slack as he stares down at himself disappearing into you. His eyes closing as he wills himself not to cum again so quickly, he did promise.

“You’re doing great!” his breath catches at the compliment, “now, you’ll press in and out. In. Out.” You set the pace you want him at, he listens. 

“This okay?” he asks breathily. You’re amazed at how good he feels already. The way he fits perfectly inside you. He has no idea that he makes every nerve in your body feel like it's on fire.

“Yeah, exactly. That’s perfect,” you gasp.

Without needing to be asked, his hands carefully grip your hips. This time with more confidence. Pulling you back into him with force. 

“Fuck, just like that,” you moan. Feeling yourself tense around him, you grip the sheets calling out his name. Arching your back to press harder into him, he gets the hint and picks up the pace.

With the quivers of you around him, he can’t hold back any longer. 

“Fuck, sorry, fuck,” he groans, pulling out just as the trembling in your gut subsided. You feel him plaster your back in warm cum before he falls back on the bed to recover.

“Uhm,” you hum moments later, eyes flicking over your shoulder.

“Shit,” he mutters breathlessly, jumping up to grab another semi-clean shirt to wipe your back off with.

He lays down again, this time you move to the bed with him. You wrap your arms around him, head resting against his neck.

“Sorry it wasn’t very long,” he mumbles.

“You did great,” you say, wondering how long he actually expected himself to last, “and I’m sure next time you’ll make it even longer.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “next time.”

Extra headcanons for fun:

Kurogiri googled you before you arrived.

Tomura googled "how to talk to attractive person."

Dabi and Spinner placed bets on if you'd actually show up. Spinner didn't know if you would but wanted to be supportive of his friend.

The traffic jam was caused by Twice and Magne. No reason, they just thought it would be fun.

After this, you and Tomura agree to meet up once a week. Once turns to Twice and before you know it, you're moving closer to see each other every day. Eventually, he learns what you like and you don't have to give him instructions.

masterlist

[pinkboaclub]

Musician Ex-Boyfriend

Summery: You and Harry are exes, on the day of your wedding, he pays you a visit, causing you to rethink things.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, cheating (not on Harry), fem!reader

"You look perfect."

You turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood—Harry, in a sharp black, the sincerity on his face was palpable.

It was your wedding day, but not the one you’d envisioned. The love of your life wasn’t the man currently getting ready. No, he was standing in the doorway, on the verge of being caught.

You’d snuck away to collect yourself. You’d told your bridesmaids all day that you were close to tears from happiness, but that wasn’t the truth. It was fear, anxiety, regret—things you’d spent months ignoring, burying under a carefully constructed smile.

You quickly scanned the open room, making sure no one could see him.

“You can’t be here,” you said, your voice tight with urgency as you strode over to him, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. “If someone sees you, they’ll start talking, they’ll—”

Before you could finish, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you into the empty hallway. His hands found your waist, pulling you into him, his warmth and familiar scent filling your senses. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart racing as you checked again. No one was around.

"Harry, please," you whispered, trying to steady your breath, feeling the sting of tears rise again. "This isn’t right."

"I didn’t think you would go through with it." His voice was flat, emotionless, his eyes avoiding yours.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. You had met Harry when you were both 25. It was supposed to be casual—two people who shared a love for music, books, and movies. He’d been on tour with his band, and you’d happened to be in the same restaurant with friends when they all decided to head to a club. That’s where you two started talking, the connection immediate, as if you’d known each other forever.

The texts started right after, every day, just a few words at first, then entire conversations that lasted into the early hours of the morning. His tour ended, and soon enough, long-distance visits turned into real dates. Three years of love, laughter, and dreams of a future together. A future that seemed so certain until life, with all its complexity and distance, pulled you apart.

It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual—the small, constant strain that turned into arguments about who was too busy, who wasn’t putting in enough effort. And then, finally, the break-up. The day you sat on the couch in your shared home, too many unsaid words filling the air, the silence louder than anything you could say.

“I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Harry had sobbed, turning toward you with pleading eyes. You didn’t answer, unable to speak through your own tears.

You didn’t even know how it had happened, but you went from sitting on your couch crying, to laying on the couch, kissing with drying tears on your cheeks, ripping each other's clothes off. Maybe it was a last resort to salvage something, maybe it was an intense goodbye, you never really knew.

After that, you stayed friends. You kept up the pretense for everyone else. Friends, family—they all still thought you’d get back together. Harry even brought it up a few times, and you’d feel that pull, that ache in your chest. Of course, you thought about it. How could you not? But the idea of losing him again, of having to grieve the loss for a second time, felt unbearable.

And yet, here he was, on the most important day of your life, not as the man you were about to marry, but as the man you once thought you’d spend forever with.

“I have to,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “I have to marry him.”

“Why?” Harry’s voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “Why him? Why do you need to? Nobody believes you actually want this.” His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading for something.

You didn’t have an answer that would make sense to him—or to yourself. All you knew was that your future, the one you’d once pictured with Harry, had slipped away, and now the only choice left was the one that terrified you the most.

You stood there, caught between two worlds—two versions of yourself, each one tugging you in a different direction. Harry’s eyes stared into yours, demanding something you couldn’t give. You wished you could explain it all to him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“I do want this,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it. “But... I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to do the right thing, and I’ve convinced myself it’s what I want. But—” You stopped yourself before the tears could fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Harry’s hands were still around you, his grip tight, like he was trying to pull you into a reality where the two of you could make it work. But it wasn’t that simple. You’d both changed, grown in ways that made that dream of forever feel distant, impossible.

“I just wanted you to know,” Harry’s voice softened. “That I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping… I didn’t think you would go through with this. Not like this.”

Your chest tightened at the words. They hit harder than you anticipated. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I could either. But… I need to. For me.”

“For him, you mean,” Harry corrected, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Hurt? Anger? Maybe both. But there was a quiet desperation in his voice that made it hard to breathe.

You hesitated. “He’s a good man. And I do love him. I do. But it’s not... the same.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at your words, but he didn’t pull away. He just stared at you, his eyes dark, like they were holding back everything he wanted to say.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said softly, almost too quietly for you to hear. “You’re pretending because it’s easier than facing the truth. You know it’s not right. But you’re too scared to admit it.”

The weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in your gut, the one that told you he was right.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but the words felt hollow. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice urgent now, low and rough. “What if the right thing isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it is? What if you’re meant to be with me?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, it was like time stopped. His presence enveloped you—the same pull you’d felt all those years ago, that same undeniable chemistry that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. But now, everything is different.

“I can’t,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I can’t go through that again, Harry. I can’t lose you and have to pick up the pieces of me after. I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

“I’d never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice cracking with emotion. “I swear. I’d never let you go, not like I did before. Please, just—just think about it. Really think about what you’re about to do.”

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling. “I can’t do this right now, Harry. Not today. Not when I’m about to be married, something I’ve promised to commit to. Please… just go.”

His face fell, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, looking at you one last time, his expression full of pain and love and the remnants of hope.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll always be here, waiting for you. No matter what.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in your ears.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your mind spinning with everything Harry had just said. His words—his love, his pain—still hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.

But you had made a promise. To him, to yourself, and to the man you were about to marry. You had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking a deep breath as you turned to face the door at the end of the hall. The moment was passing, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sharp click of another pair of heels echoed from the other end of the hall, and you barely registered it before Aaliyah rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“There you are! I was starting to think I’d lost you for good! I-what’s wrong?” She halted in her tracks, eyes scanning your face, a frown forming as she looked at the tear stains streaking down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped your face, not caring that your makeup was surely ruined. "I—uhm," you faltered, struggling to find the words. "I’m just... nervous."

You almost told her everything. You wanted to. Aaliyah had been there for you through all of it—through the endless debates over whether or not you should try again with Harry. She knew the truth. She’d always known. But today wasn’t the day for honesty. Today was for pretending, for keeping the peace, for stepping into the life you thought you’d chosen.

“Oh, I know it’s stressful, but it’ll all be okay!” Aaliyah said, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting hug. You leaned into her warmth, her helping for only a moment. "I think I just need a little more time alone. To clear my head. Maybe go up to my room for a bit, have some water, a snack, you know?"

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes lingering on you as if she could see right through your smile, but she nodded, understanding your need for space. “Alright, I’ll stay down here. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“Promise,” you said, offering a small smile as you hugged her back, then hurried past her, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way toward the elevator.

You had rented a hotel suite for the bridal party to get ready, a place where you could unwind and prepare. Your fiancée had his own room, staying with his groomsmen, where they were now. You had also reserved a hotel room for you and your fiancé to stay in before your honey moon in two days… so, now you had a free room to be alone in—well, almost alone.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you closed the door behind you with a soft click. You slowly slipped off the silk robe you’d been wearing, the one that said “Bride” in sparkling letters across your back, and traded it for the simple hotel robe draped on the back of the bathroom door.

Then you pulled out your phone, scrolling far down your contacts. Your thumb hesitated for just a second before you started typing.

“If you’re still in the hotel, I’m on floor 4, room 415. If you meant what you said, I’ll be here, waiting.”

A sharp knock at the door made you jump. Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced your legs to move toward it, each step heavy and unsteady. When you opened the door, there he stood, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't marry him," you murmured, barely audible. The weight of the words broke something inside you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks.

Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. He closed the door softly behind him, the world outside suddenly fading away. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you in reality.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked, searching for the words you had meant to say. But they escaped you. Instead, with a sudden, desperate impulse, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was everything you’d missed, everything you’d been longing for—and it felt like home.

"I am scared by how much I want this, how much I want you." You finally said after you pulled away from your kiss. Harry tucked your hair behind your eye, taking a moment to admire your features before speaking.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me…of us…because I know-I know it would work this time. Were not as young, we know how to balance our schedules, and we know what it’s like to not be with each other. I love you so much Y/N”

Before you could cry anymore, you caved in to everything you knew you wanted. You kissed him again, this time leading him to the hotel bed.

"I am devoted to you," He murmurs as he unties your robe, his eyes not leaving your face. You both lay back. He watches the way your eyes widen when he moves one hand between your thighs to tenderly touch your core. "Let me please you," He knows he sounds needy, but he can't help it as he looks upon the woman he would do anything for.

“Please do.”

He took his eyes from your face and let them travel down your body, this was the first time he had seen you like this since you had broken up. He took in every inch of you, your beautiful bra-clad breasts, your rapidly moving stomach as you breathed. Then, your legs. Your left leg had a white lace garter belt on it. His hand slowly traveled up until he got to the garter belt.

“Supposed to be a tradition…a very odd one.” You broke the silence.

“I’m not complaining.”

He slowly pulled off the belt, your underwear following it.

He moves forward and leaves a trail of kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen and then down over your quivering thighs as his hand moves between your legs, letting his finger slip into you.

After watching the first drop of your arousal slide down his index finger, he had enough. He pulls his hand back and grips your thighs to keep you still while his mouth devours you.

Your soft little moans and attempts at saying his name make him grip you tighter, using his tongue in even more intricate ways just to coax out more of your sweetness, more of your angelic sounds. He squeezes one of your thighs and then slides his hand up along your side until his hand finds yours. He twines your fingers together, and then he gets back to devouring you like he was starving.

"I need more, Harry, please," You beg so prettily that he considers asking you to do so again, but he feels like it would be cruel after you’ve been so patient.

"Of course,"

He kisses you deeply to drown the pained whimper when he pushes his cock inside you without a pause, thinking it’s best if he gets the painful part over with as fast as possible. He grunts against your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He stays still and kisses away your tears until you start laughing beneath him.

You’re the one who indicates that he is allowed to move by grinding your hips up against his. He hums in understanding and starts to thrust into you again. You too get lost as he find a perfect rhythm.

He flips you over with one quick motion after he has watched your breasts bounce for too many agonising moments without being able to do anything with them, his mouth becomes focused on them, finding the spots that make you cry out his name as loudly as you could.

“Fuck, baby.” He says, admiring your body continuously bouncing up and down. You move quicker at his encouraging words, riding him faster than you thought you could.

He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, twisting his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other with his hand.

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling the familiar surge of warmth spread through your body like—the same warmth he could only give you, one that was 10x stronger than your fiancé could have ever given you.

Your orgasm soon followed. You didn’t care about how loud you were. You didn’t care if someone walked in right now, you’d almost prefer it, maybe it would be your fiancé, or someone you both knew, they would tell him you snuck up to your room to ride the musician ex boyfriend, then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

“I-fuck Harry, it’s…” You stop, letting yourself moan from the euphoria you’re feeling. “It’s so good.” You finally spit out.

He chuckles at your inability to properly express your blissful feelings and tangles his fingers in your hair to pull you down for a deep kiss. He lets out a low groan as your fingers dig into his chest, followed by the shuddering of your body and the clenching of your walls around him that prompt him to spill his cum inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters as he tears his mouth away from yours. He knows neither of you should have done that, however, as Harry looks up at your blissed expression, he does not regret it, not one bit.

His arms wrap around your torso, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He lightly rubbed his fingers up and down your back. The only thing that could be heard in the room was your heavy breathing.

“I love you, Harry.”

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 3.

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Jason remember the day she was born. He hadn't been Robin for very long, a few months maybe. One day, he had gone to school and came back to a baby girl, a somber Bruce, an exhausted Alfred, and the rare sight of Dick Grayson. Information came in a blur over the next week as the manor changed to accommodate an infant. She was Bruce's biological daughter. Her mother had been his secretary at Wayne Enterprises and had died during childbirth. Eventually at the will reading, the girl was given her mother's diary and her name (First and Middle Name) Wayne.

As Robin, that little twerp had him wrapped around her finger. As soon as she babbled her first word with those tiny graby hand, he was her's. "Jaja."

Him, Bruce, and Alfred had taken turn looking after her. Jason remember teaching her how to read. Holding her in his arms as they both sounded out words. The old copy of Grimms Fairy Tales being her favorite book to read together, "I wanna be like you and read lots of stories."

That was his last memory with her as Robin. He died two weeks later and took her happy childhood with him to the grave. Dick and Barbara had explained that after his death Bruce threw himself into work. Alfred while providing for her had become distant. Dick told Jason he couldn't look at the girl without seeing Jason next to her. Barbara admitted she didn't know how to talk to the girl anymore. She couldn't explain why she was in the wheelchair instead of walking. Nobody could explain to her why Jason didn't come home one night and they buried him later.

When Jason came back as the Red Hood, no one explained that either. (Name) was four and still scared to sleep with her closet door open. They were all certain hearing about Jason in that state, the pit madness consuming him would scare her. Plus he had become dangerous.

For some reason instead of being mad at her, he was mad for her. She was dismissed so frequently by the others. Tim seem uncomfortable near her. He later learned that's because she had gotten mad at him for wearing the Robin costume. "That's Jason's not your's." It made him swell with pride, out of everyone she hadn't replaced him.

Yet, when the rage dissipated and he returned to the family he couldn't look at her. He still felt too dangerous. Like he would snap and say or do something that would break her. So he pretended to not hear her. Pointedly ignore the seven-year-old asking him to play, what book he was reading, or can he help with homework. More importantly he ignored the questions he didn't know how to answer. "Where did you go Jay? Did I do something wrong?" Suddenly he couldn't blame Barbara and Dick for avoiding her.

When she was eight, he finally didn't feel as dangerous. The explanation would be messy but he could do it. He just wanted his little sister back. He could finally explain to her what happened.

She wasn't in the manor. Jason had begun to panic. Had she accidentally wonder off the grounds? Or been kidnapped? No, this couldn't happen not when he was finally going to get her back. Alfred walked into the kitchen and when he asked about his sister, he felt his world stop. "Master Bruce took her to see Master Dick before send her off to boarding school."

Just like that he had lost his chance to explain on an August wind. He shouldn't have been surprised really. She was smart enough to ace any entrance exam. Hopefully at this new school she wouldn't be as miserable. People would notice her and love her like he should have. She wouldn't be turned away, ignored, or given false promises like at the manor. So Jason let her go.

Now sitting in this family meeting in the batcave, he really wish he hadn't. One look around the table told him that everyone was thinking something along the same lines. The information Alfred had just revealed boiled his blood. He felt dangerous again, expected this time he didn't care. "You're telling me she never arrived at that boarding school and has been god knows where for the past two years?"

"There were several things that went wrong." Dick ran his hand over his face slouching down in his chair. Jason felt himself shaking with rage. Clearly multiple things had gone wrong if they had lost a literal human being for two years.

"First there was mix up on who was taking her to boarding school. Bruce thought Alfred was taking her because that’s was what was orginially agreed upon so Bruce could visit me in Blüdhaven. However Alfred received a message the day before from 'Bruce' saying that (Name) beggex to see me before leaving for school so she was with him. The story went that Bruce would drop her off at the airport and a school attendant would pick her up. Bruce never exactly sent those messages." Dick showed phone logs on the batcomputer's screen. Alfred did receive those messages but the logs didn't show Bruce sending them.

Tim lean forward, "Okay but when she didn't show up Bruce or Alfred should have been notified."

The screen shifted showing a school file for (Name). Barbara took over explaining this time. "They school did notify someone but it wasn't Bruce or Alfred." She held up a paper file and passed it around, "this a copy of the admission paper Alfred sent it to the academy. The batcomputer is showing what the school had on file for her. The mailing address and phone numbers are wrong. We have reason to suspect that someone changed them to keep her disappearance unnoticed for longer."

Steph shook her head, "Okay so that's why the school didn't alert us but what about the accountant. Looking at these papers her tuition was $95000 a year. That's almost 8,000 a month. If she wasn't attending the school, they wouldn't have accepted the tuition payments. Or her allowance, she was spending it right?"

"The payments were still being made." Alfred spoke this time. Jason growled lowly. Whatever the accountant was doing, be it embezzlement or fraud it had kept his sister in a dangerous spot for two years. The fucker was going to pay for that, most likely in blood. "As of current we are uncertain where the funds disappeared. Whether someone in the school or the accountant himself has taken them."

"I placed a tracker on the next payment so we can follow it." Barbara offered.

Jason stood and turned for his bike. He needed to do something other sit there. The answer was not going to walk into cave and drop at their feet. Dick got out of his seat, hurrying to grab Jason's shoulder, "where are you going?"

"To interrogate that piece of shit accountant." Jason shoved Dick out of the way. Dick began to get ready to say something but paused. They turned to see Duke run into the room holding his helmet and utility belt.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I took (Name) to the mall and lost track of time." Jason froze at her name. Going to the mall was a normal thing to be doing. If she was acting normal than maybe he still had a chance. Just as he was about to ask how she was Duke continued speaking, "Oh Alfred, I was looking for you. (Name) said her card was stolen by someone at that boarding school she went to and she needed you to call the bank to cancel it."

Tension rippled in the room. Jason felt his lip twitch behind his helmet. "What?"

Duke froze looking to the table for help. Than the computer screen showing all the evidence. Steph gave him a nervous half smile, "You're going want to seat down for this."

Ra's Al Ghul stared at the surveillance images his daughter had set before him. The girl was young and in the still shots appeared to be relatively weak. Yet he could see what his daughter was talking about. Her potential was evident in that she was partially obscure in all but one picture. In the picture she wasn't obscured in, she instead blended in with the crowd of people. Just a girl walking down the street.

"There's also these two videos, Father." Talia held a tablet out to him. The first video was loaded waiting for him to press play. It showed one armed pursuer chasing the girl from one alleyway to another. In a few seconds he watched as she spun in a circle while still running. The pursuer stumbled, clutched at his throat, before falling to the ground. The girl was down the alleyway before the body had hit the pavement.

He raised an eyebrow. Her form in those few seconds could use work but the framework was there. Especially since she didn't stumble or hesitate before throwing her weapon. Potential indeed.

The second video showed her running off screen. She had a wound to her face and another weeping blood from her stomach. The girl was stumbling and grabbing walls for support. She remained off screen for eleven seconds before reappearing. Both of her wounds were gone. Her movements had returned to normal, not even a slight limp. She turned to the camera and threw a misshapen bullet at it, causing the lens to crack.

Ra's watched that video again. There was no jump in time stamp or clipping of the video. He looked to his daughter. She smiled slyly at him, "She appears to be a meta human with an enhanced healing ability. I've seen it in person. Imagine the fighter she could be with that kind of gift. Plus she has the makings, no hesitation, doesn't flinch at pain, and she already knows some kind of stealth."

He considered her words carefully. All good qualities for an assassin. Qualities they typically had to train into their pupils but she already had them. Ra's looked to the paused video again. It was showing her face glaring at the camera. He froze.

Ra's Al Ghul knew that look. He had seen it before over 600 years ago. It had belong to a different girl back than. One so powerful and feared the Spanish had sent an army just to ensure she burned. A woman who now rest at the bottom of a special Lazarus Pit. He had always wonder what became of her gifts. "What was this girl's name again?"

"(Name) Wayne."

"A Wayne? Perhaps she is worth our time."

You were stuck somewhere between screaming and slamming your head into a wall. Once you and Duke had gotten home, he had helped you carry your bags to your room before leaving. That was fine by you, you needed to time to think through your plan. Yet as you worked on that you were meant with more questions and more problems.

Mainly, School. With the lie being in the family that you were attending boarding school, you were expected to be educated. Yet the experiments had refused to provide you with any learning matter.

Yes a part of that was probably, okay 100% your fault. Though you fully admit when stole the pencil and threw it at that one guy, you didn't expect to hit him in the eye. Using it to remove his eye once you realize it was stuck there... you plead the fifth.

The real issue was that you were expected to be at or around a 4th grade level. Maybe not so much to those who know about the experiments but to those who didn't know. You needed to play into the boarding school lie until you could weed out who knew.

Second was self defense. You were good at throwing things, scalpels being your weapon of choice to escape. Up close your main method of defense was escape by breaking your own bones or hapzardly stabbing their wrist. You couldn't fight without injuring yourself which was always a risk. So far you had gotten lucky in that no one expected it but you couldn't rely on luck.

This investigation was going to get dangerous and quick. Not being able to fight was a disadvantage. Your head was spinning with all the things you needed to figure. It was making planning... messy. You had to focus on one thing right now so you could get some clarity.

You read through the messy pages of your notebook. There were three pages of questions, two pages of miscellaneous information, and a page dedicated to things you would need to get or do. The best thing to do was choose one item from all of them that connected in some way. School kept coming to your mind.

On the questions page a particular one stuck out to you. "Was there boarding school tuition being paid?" Underneath it you wrote two more questions with lines connecting them "If so did the money go to the experiments?" Another line pointing to the second question making a little triangle. "Did Bruce know where the money was going?"

That seemed like a good place to start. It give you solid ground to build your case against him on. You flipped to the information page. Sure you could start by digging around Bruce's office for financial states. That however seemed like a bad idea. It tip someone off that you were investigating and it was too early for that.

The perfect piece of information jump out to you. They were having issues getting supplies from a Sionis because he wanted more money. Money that Davis wouldn't cough off up. Sionis was more the supplier so he wouldn't be connected to the money but Davis. You needed to find out more about that person to answer your first question.

Finally you turned to your needs page. The biggest thing on there was catching up on your schooling. Even if it didn't directly benefit your investigation being stuck at a second grade reading and math level was not ideal. As a kid you had pride in being oddly intelligent. Connecting dots and lessons before the other kids. If there was one you didn't want to lose to the experiments it was your pride. Plus it would give you an excuse to research forensic, medical, and computer sciences. All things that would help put together with the terms the scientists used around you cause you couldn't understand them.

Now it was planning time. How to accomplish these goals? If Davis was connected to your father than your best option was probably talking Alfred or Tim. You did mention needing Alfred to turn off the debit card your allowance went into when you were out with Duke. Maybe you could just check in Alfred, mention needing to get in contact with the family account to dispute charges on stolen card. That would work right?

As for the schooling, you needed a tutor. All your family members were off limits so you would have to find one independent of them. Where did people go to find tutors and learning?

"Looks like I have to make a trip to the library tomorrow."

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