#and try mixing that into the paint and see what happens

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

Girl I need to know what happened at home in "Playing Dangerously" bring a second chapter home please

Part 1: Playing Dangerous

THE END OF THE GAME

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: a lot of tension, +18 content, p in v, unprotected sex, dom!Jude, dirty talk, possesive behaivor, and probably mistakes since english is not my first language.

summary: After a night of shameless teases that push Jude to his limits, you think you've won. However, the anger between you is still there, and you both prove it in a battle for control, releasing all the unspoken tension with touches instead of words. Every gesture becomes a declaration, every caress, a fight. In the end, all he wants is to hear you say it—to speak the truth: that you are his and he is yours.

Jude´s kiss wasn’t gentle—it was all fire and frustration, an explosion of the tension that had been simmering between you two all night. His lips claimed yours with a desperate sort of hunger, his hands framing your face as if to keep you from escaping this time. You gasped against him, startled by the intensity, but the sound only seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening, his lips demanding every ounce of your attention.

Your hands found their way to his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, you weren’t sure. Anger still lingered within you, but desire burned even stronger. But as his lips moved against yours, all traces of anger were swallowed by the sheer heat of the moment. His kiss was a mix of punishment and possession, and you felt it in every brush of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, and every barely restrained sound rumbling from his chest.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressing against yours as his hands slid down to your waist, holding you firmly in place. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and searching, as if trying to read your every thought. He could do it if he set his mind to it.

“You done playing games yet?” Jude asked, his voice rough, laced with challenge and desire. His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, his touch warm and electric even through the thin fabric of your dress.

Behind you, the car’s cool metal frame pressed into your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. The glossy black paint gleamed under the soft light, creating an almost cinematic reflection of the two of you locked in this intimate, charged moment.

You bit your lip, struggling to catch your breath, but the defiance in your gaze hadn’t faded. “Not even close,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but still firm.

Jude let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver through you. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours again, teasing, as if he were testing your resolve.

“Maybe I just like seeing you like this,” you shot back, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “All worked up over me.”

Jude’s mouth twitched into the barest hint of a smirk, but the fire in his eyes never wavered. His fingers slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you—woodsy with a hint of spice, intoxicatingly familiar. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath brushing against your skin. “Oh, I’m worked up, all right,” he said, his voice low and filled with a dark promise. “But you’re not going to like where this leads if you keep pushing me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the warning in his tone sending a thrill through you. But you weren’t ready to back down—not yet. “I´m sure I will,” you challenged, your voice softer now, almost a whisper.

His smirk returned, sharper this time. Without another word, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in, his grip on your waist lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You hesitated, searching his face for some hint of what was going through his mind, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place.

As you slid into the car, he leaned in close, his hand bracing against the doorframe. “You’re in so much trouble,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear in a way that made your breath hitch. Before you could respond, he shut the door with a quiet finality, rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat with an air of calm that only made your nerves buzz louder. He took his time and you were hating his pace.

The drive home was silent, but the tension between you was almost unbearable. Every glance, every shift in his posture, every brush of his hand against the gear shift seemed deliberate, calculated, as if he were silently daring you to speak first.

When he finally pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, he turned to you, a flicker of something unreadable—mischievous, almost predatory—dancing in his dark, unrelenting eyes. "Inside," he said, the low, commanding tone of his voice making your pulse race. The corner of his mouth quirked, just slightly, as if he was savoring the way your breath hitched.

You hesitated for just a second, your defiance flickering, but the look in his eyes left no room for argument. Swallowing hard, you stepped out of the car and walked toward the door, aware of him following close behind. The heat of his presence was almost suffocating, and your heart raced as you fumbled with the keys, finally pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Jude’s hands were on you again, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed into yours, this time even more intense, more urgent, as if he couldn’t stand the distance any longer. His hands roamed your body, sliding over your hips and up your sides, pulling you against him with a desperation that left you breathless.

“You think you can play with me like that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low, each word sending a shiver down your spine. “Flirting with him, touching him, laughing like that—like I wasn’t even there? Y/N, you made me watch every single one of your fucking movements.”

Your hands gripped his shirt, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his words and the heat of his touch. “I wasn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with another searing kiss, his teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that made you gasp.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice a soft growl as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he searched your gaze. “You wanted to make me jealous. You wanted to get under my skin. Well, congratulations, love. You got exactly what you wanted.”

His words sent a rush of adrenaline through you, your heart skipping a beat as his lips trailed down to your neck, leaving a trail of heated and wet kisses that made your knees weak. “Jude…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he didn’t stop, his hands tightening on your waist as if to anchor you to him.

“Say it,” he murmured against your skin, his lips hovering just below your ear. “Say you’re mine.”

His words weren’t a request—they were a command. As much as you wanted to fire back with that undeniable truth, you clung tightly to your anger and defiance. “No,” you whispered, your voice quivering, caught somewhere between anticipation and need.

Jude leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes ablaze with frustration and something deeper, something that sent a sharp ache through your chest in the most intoxicating way. “If that’s how you want this to go...” he muttered, his voice low and heavy with emotion.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out, but surrendering to him—at least, not yet—wasn’t an option. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help blaming your hormones, your curiosity, and whatever god had blessed Jude Bellingham with the face of an angel and the body of a god of wanting to give up. But the night was still young. The leather of the nearest couch you two found, groaned as you shifted closer, your knees brushing against his. The moment you were within arm's reach, he hooked one arm around your back, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap.

Jude’s grip on your hips was firm, his lips pressing hard against yours as if he was trying to erase every thought from your mind. The intensity in his touch sent shivers down your spine, every brush of his hand leaving trails of heat in its wake. His fingers slid up, curling into the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. The kiss was relentless—no room for air, no chance to think. It was all Jude, all consuming, and you couldn’t help but respond, your own hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to hear the low groan that rumbled in his chest.

His mouth trailed down to your jaw, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before finding the spot at your neck that made your breath hitch. The sensation was electric, your body arching into his instinctively, your head tilting back to give him more access.

Your breath came in uneven gasps, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the heat of his breath against your skin. Part of you wanted to argue, to tease him further, but every inch of your body was on fire, his dominance leaving you no room to think. Still, you weren’t about to surrender so easily—not without one last shot.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Your lips curved into a playful smile, the mischief in your eyes igniting a flicker of challenge in his. “You’re awfully bossy, you know that?”

Jude’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, his hands tightening on your hips. The possessiveness in his grip was thrilling, his strength holding you in place as if daring you to keep pushing. “And you’re a brat,” he shot back, his voice low and laced with a mix of annoyance and adoration. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The tension crackled between you. Every inch of your skin was alive with anticipation as Jude’s presence seemed to take up every corner of the room. His voice, soft but commanding, lingered in the air. “This is what you wanted, isn´t it?”

Your breath hitched, and despite yourself, you nodded. It was a dangerous game you were playing. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to pull away, to put an end to it—but the pull between you were undeniable. His eyes never left yours, like a predator studying its prey, and you could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

He took a step forward, his every movement deliberate, measured. His fingers brushed against your cheek, a featherlight caress that sent a shiver through you. “Don’t play anymore,” he whispered, almost tenderly.

Your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to speak. Instead, you clenched your jaw, trying to hold your ground. His smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he saw the battle within you.

His hand slid down the curve of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your pulse, sending a rush of warmth straight to your core.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, do you want this?”

His words wrapped around you like a chain, but still, you couldn’t find your voice. The space between you seemed impossibly small now. His hand traveled lower, skimming the edge of your clothing, and you sucked in a breath as the pressure between you mounted. His closeness was overwhelming, suffocating, yet you didn’t want him to pull away.

You closed your eyes, but the image of his smirk, that knowing, teasing grin, stayed with you. You wanted to break. You wanted to submit. But pride kept you on the edge, unsure whether to give in completely or to keep fighting.

Jude stopped then, just as you felt you might drown in the heat of the moment. His lips hovered inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to make the first move.

You stayed silent, your lips barely parted, your body aching for more. He smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his mouth, and his fingers brushed over your jawline, tracing the curve of your face like a forbidden promise. “You’ll break,” he murmured, the words a low, knowing promise.

The game was no longer about control—it was about surrender. And as much as you fought it, you felt yourself slipping, falling into his hands.

Jude’s teeth skimmed your bottom lip, tugging just hard enough to draw a gasp from you before his tongue swept over the tender spot, soothing the sting. His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet achingly gentle as he pulled back, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough, laced with undeniable conviction. “Only mine.”

The words sent a wave of nervousness through you, raising goosebumps along your skin, igniting something deep and unshakable. You tried to stifle the teasing retort forming on your lips, but defiance slipped through unbidden. “Then deserve it,” you blurted, the challenge clear in your voice.

Jude's jaw tightened at your words, the challenge in your tone igniting a flicker of anger in his eyes. He stopped smirking, and bit the inside of his cheek. His lips hovered close to your ear, his voice low and rough as he murmured, “You never learn, do you?”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you towards the bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him with finality, the sound echoing through the room. He set you down with a harsh press against the matress, his hands still gripping you with an iron-like hold.

As Jude’s hands roamed your sides, his touch shifting from heated to deliberate, his gaze bore into yours, dark and unrelenting. He was holding back just enough to tease you, to make you feel the weight of his control. His fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down in one smooth, almost punishing motion. The fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet as his eyes raked over you, predatory and sharp.

But when he saw the bare skin beneath, his hands froze for just a moment. A sharp, almost feral grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “No underwear?” The amusement in his tone sent a shiver through you, and the heat of his gaze made it impossible to look away.

Your cheeks burned as you stammered, “I didn’t want lines showing through the dress...”

He leaned in, smirking, his lips a breath away from yours, his voice low and rough, each word like a match striking against your resolve. “You’re such a tease,” he said, the words dripping with a mix of annoyance and raw desire. “Did you want me to loose my mind?”

Your blush deepened, but the challenge in his tone reignited the fire in your chest. “Did you?”

Jude’s gaze darkened, the flicker of anger in his eyes giving way to something far more dangerous. “What am I going to do?” he repeated, his voice a low, predatory murmur. His fingers slid up your bare skin, his touch igniting every nerve as he leaned in, his lips grazing your neck before finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Oh, love,” he said, his voice a mix of threat and promise, “I’m going to ruin you.”

All feminism had apparently left your body, because the way he grunted that crude declarations made your thighs shudder with anticipation. Sexual repression was something you had lived with for the last couple of weeks since you two started fighting and his hands around your body felt better than ever.

Your legs opened wider for him as he left kisses along the valley of your breasts, his tongue sweeping down below your erected nipples. The room began to spin, all your senses completely tethered to him. His hands groped at your ass, using it as leverage to rock his covered length into your center. The delicious friction builds as butterflies swarmed your stomach. God, it has never felt this good.

Craving more, thirsty for more than foreplay, you dropped your hands to his lap. Your nimble fingers work on his button and zipper. You ghosted past the shadows in his pants, feeling him, knowing he wanted this just as bad as you did, but he was refusing to help you pull his jeans off, or at least down enough so he could be exposed.

“Jude, some help?” you groaned, hating how gutted you sounded, how needy.

“I’m not doing shit until you tell me what I want to hear.” His mouth continues to assault your neck and chest, the cool air making goosebumps race across your body as it hits the warm places on your throat where his wet tongue had been.

“You want me to tell you⁠—”

“Confess,” he butted in, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “I want you to confess me the truth. The undeniable thruth. That you´re mine, only mine.” That tone again, rubbing you in all the places you never knew you needed. It was obvious that he didn’t like the stunts you’d pulled during dinner.

Your breath shook as you looked up from his waist, diving into his hellfire eyes that spark and sizzle in the dim light. Such a unique version of brown. “Then tell me you are mine,” you whispered, pressing your mouth into his for a kiss that felt like falling. Your heart raced inside your rib cage, thudding over and over again. “Tell me you´re mine and not hers.”

His nostrils flare, and his hands grabbed you harder, as if holding onto control—or maybe letting it slip. The argument was still fresh in your mind, the reason why all of this had started, like a wound that refused to close. The campaign. The model. His silence was worse than all the yelling from weeks and hours ago, and you could feel your stomach sink.

The seconds stretch, his eyes still locked on yours, and when he finally spoke, his voice is a low, smoldering growl. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

He grunted, raising his hips to shove his tight jeans down his waist enough to release himself. You widened your eyes, looking down as his hard cock rested against his stomach.

You raised your hips, directing his cock to your entrance. Lowering yourself onto him gradually, you felt every single inch enter you at your own pace. You whimpered as you felt him stretch you open, forcing his way into your dripping walls. You couldn’t help but look down, watching the process. It’s almost an unbearable amount of pleasure that rides through you when you´re fully sitting on his lap.

The sound of him groaning turns your attention back to him. Beneath you, his head presses into the pillows, his toned arms gripping you as his fingers clutched at your hips, all the veins in his throat bulging as he flexes his jaw, grunting out, “Fuck.”

You were at a live wire of sensations in this moment that you couldn’t fathom happening with anyone else. Eager to please him and craving release, you started to lift your hips up and down. His length rubbed every inch of you on the inside, tickling that sensitive spot along with every other spot. It was touching everywhere all at once, so many places, it was overwhelming. Your limbs felt light and heavy at the same time as you rolled your hips against him.

A groan rumbled in his chest, letting you know what you were doing was working for him just as much as it was for you. “Look at you looking so good ridin’ my cock,” he mumbled, full of rasp, low eyes watching you. His hands were now occupied touching your breasts as you rode him.

You were soaked, thoroughly stretched and perfected for him. You had him exactly where you wanted—beneath you, pinned, with you in control. The rhythm you set was intoxicating, a slow burn, a tease that left both of you breathless. But then his hands lowered and tightened on your hips, a subtle warning that sent a shiver cascading down your spine, you knew that his restraint was slipping, his patience worn thin.

In a single fluid motion, he reversed the tide, his movements deliberate, commanding. The haziness of his earlier submission vanished, replaced by something raw, undeniable, and entirely him. He had let you play, but now it was his turn to have fun.

He encircled your waist, forcing you down his shaft. Your bodies scoot to the edge of the bed so that he could piston his hips into your hole. With hunger and traces of rage, he grabbed again your exposed tits. He did not give you a single moment to settle because soon, your nipple was between his teeth, his soft tongue spinning circles around it.

“Jude, oh my God,” you panted, sweat already sticking to your forehead.

You moved together in sync, rocking your bodies into one another. You felt every single thrust, letting your bodies slam together over and over again. Your head lolled back while your fingers buried themselves into his shoulder blades.

He growled, the sound reverberating through you like a primal command. His hands tightened their grip, driving him to thrust into you with an intensity that left you gasping. You let him guide you, manhandle you, surrendering completely to his control. “See? You’re my good girl.”

His pace was merciless now, a rhythm that left no room for thought, only sensation. Your legs trembled, teetering on the edge of collapse, but his firm hold kept you exactly where he wanted you. Tears welled in your eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of pleasure coursing through you.

He had promised this—promised to unravel you, to leave you utterly undone—and now he was keeping that promise with devastating precision. He was ruining you, in the most exquisite way possible.

“I’m going to come. Make me come, Jude, please,” you cried wildly, suddenly not caring about anything else but the pleasure.

“Beg for it, baby, beg for it. Only I can make you feel like this.”

You nodded eagerly. “Please, please, Jude, please.” His hands went down to trace circles in your clit, and it was unberable.

You were aching all over. Fire, consumig you as you climbed higher towards your orgasm. You quivered, the air taken out of your lungs as ecstasy pumped in your veins. All that came from you are broken cries as he continued to plunge, flutters and spasms racking through you. Pleasure thrummed through your body, toes curling as you drift through the most intense orgasm of your life. Now, the heat that once consumed you was replaced by a deep blush spreading across your tear-streaked cheeks, the salt of your tears mixing with the lingering haze of pleasure. Each shaky breath drew attention to the raw vulnerability etched into your expression, a testament to how completely he had undone you.

“Beautiful,” he uttered huskily. You were not even sure that’s what you actually heard, too numb from bliss to truly comprehend.

Your limbs felt heavy and your eyes were shut tight as he raced after his own release, pumping with ruthless thrusts that made your core tighten with indescribable pleasure. Jude’s fingers delved between your thighs, finding your clit again and immediately applying pressure.

“Wait, wait, I can’t. S-so sensitive,” you whimpered, your hand shooting down to his wrist, gripping it to try and prevent him from making your entire body combust.

It’s so intense that you could feel your eyes starting to water. Again. His fingers didn’t stop, and neither did his hips, “One more. Be my good girl. One more.”

He moaned, his thumb speeding up to match his thrusts. That familiar build hit your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “Fuck, I can’t,” you mewled, but your body said otherwise, tightening around him once again.

“You can. You can because I said so.”

And you did. You came again, your body gripping him with a desperate intensity, drawing him deeper, tighter, until every inch of him was enveloped in your heat. Your cries turned into broken whimpers, the sound raw and helpless as your second climax tore through you, leaving you trembling and breathless.

Jude’s growl turned into a guttural moan, a sound that reverberated through his chest and into yours as he thrust one final time, burying himself fully. The moment he stilled, his lips claimed yours with fervor. The kiss was searing, full of hunger and release, his mouth devouring yours with no pretense of gentleness. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before his tongue swept in, deepening the kiss as his hands tightened on your hips, holding you against him like he never wanted to let go.

You melted into him, your lips moving in perfect rhythm with his, matching the intensity of his passion. Your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling him closer as he tilted his head to kiss you deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth with aching thoroughness.

As the storm of sensations began to settle, his lips softened against yours, the urgency ebbing into something slower, more tender. When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressing together as your shared gasps mingled in the stillness. His thumb brushed over your cheek, catching the lingering tears as his lips ghosted over yours once more.

His long eyelashes tickled the side of your face. You could barely feel his fingers when they started playing with your hair, twirling around your strands. The room was quiet now, the intensity of moments before replaced by a soothing calm. A warm glow from a bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across the room, and the air felt thick with the intimacy of the moment.

He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his other hand brushing delicate fingers over you. Your eyes fluttered closed as if you were savoring the way his touch made you feel utterly cherished.

“You're it for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. It was as if the words carried the weight of his entire soul. “There's no one else. There couldn't be. You're all I want, all I’ll ever need.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, pressing the sweetest of kisses to your forehead. It lingered, firm and grounding, as though he wanted to etch the moment into your skin.

“You’re my world, you know?” His lips moved to your temple, then to the corner of your mouth, each touch more tender than the last. “I couldn’t love you more if I tried. I don’t even think it’s possible.” His words were laced with conviction, yet there was an almost boyish softness in the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.

You let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed due to the sensations that you had felt but comforted. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his, and brought it to your lips. “You don’t have to try,” you whispered. Your voice trembled, but your smile was radiant. “I love you so much, Jude...”

There was a beat of silence, not awkward but rich with meaning. You could see how his eyes softened, how his features eased into an expression of pure adoration.

“And you know what?” you added, your tone more playful now, but your words brimming with sincerity. “I’m yours. Every part of me. Always.”

He cupped your face, his lips pressed to yours, soft and lingering, a kiss that was less about passion and more about everything he couldn’t put into words. You snuggled closer to him, your bodies fitting together perfectly, and he tucked the blanket around you both, holding you as if to shield you from the world. His hand found yours, fingers entwining naturally, and as your breathing slowed, he pressed a final kiss to your hair.

"Goodnight, my love," he murmured, his voice warm and tender. "I’ve got you."

And in his arms, you felt it—safe, loved, and utterly complete.

a/n: omg.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

interaction with mama or papa leech (or both) please!

yuu was walking down the hallway along with jade and floyd, exchanging stories of recent happenings before it was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out to them.

"jade! floyd!"

by the looks of the twins' excited expressions and the occasion of family day, they connected the dots that it must be their parents and swiftly hid behind one of the brothers before the person came into view, trying to remove their own presence. although jade had clarified that they had a normal family business, they can't help but get nervous and perhaps a bit frightened, especially with how the leech's definition of "normal" is quite... questionable. maybe if they're lucky, they can make a run for it before they start to take notice...

(i hope i did this right!)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Mother and father.”

“Mom!! Pops!!”

You hesitantly peered out from behind the twins. Two lanky figures towered over you, as imposing as skyscrapers.

Mr. Leech was stone-faced, skin slightly grooved like a rock carved by the crashing waves, teal hair streaked with black slicked back with gel. His eyes were like beacons of light searching in the night--sharp, discerning. He wore a smart pinstriped suit, polished shoes, and gloves, reminding you of an older Jade.

Mrs. Leech's lithe form was wrapped in an off-the-shoulder sun dress, the slit of it riding halfway up her thigh, skirt spilling into a waterfall of gathered tulle. A string of creamy pearls--simple, understated--drapes across her collar. Her wide brim hat shaded her face, but you could still admire how she had expertly painted her lips and eyes, how her hair fell in a loose wave over one shoulder. She was like Floyd, mixing an impeccable fashion sense with a slight hint of danger.

When Mrs. Leech spotted her sons, she charged at them at a speed that was shocking for a woman in high heels. She threw her arms around Jade and Floyd, pulling them in for a tight hug.

"My babies!! I've missed you so much, darlings," she gushed. "How are classes? How are clubs? You must tell me everything...!"

“It’s wonderful to see you as well. We have much to catch up on.”

“Ehehehe~ Mom? you’re squeezin’ me so hard! Watch out, cuz I’ll get’cha back!!”

Mr. Leech cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption, but..." His eyes cut to you—no longer concealed by the twins—and you froze, pinned in place by his stern gaze. “It seems we have a stranger in our midst. Jade and Floyd's... friendly acquaintance, I presume."

Mrs. Leech released her children. “Just a moment, dear!!”

The giantess appeared before you, her shadow larger than life. You managed a single shaky step backwards before her claw-like nails dug into you.

“Ah, mom went right to work,” Floyd said in a singsong.

“Do stay still,” Jade advised you. “It will make the process go by much more quickly.”

J-Just what is going to happen to me?!

Mrs. Leech’s hands ran the length of your body and its crevices. She never lingered in one spot. Pat, pat, pat, then onto the next area.

A full body pat-down?!

“All clear,” Mrs. Leech called to her husband.

“Excellent. That is a relief." Mr. Leech adjusted his tie and offered a wane smile. "Excuse us. We're in the habit of running through a series of safety protocols before receiving guests. Unfortunately, it's terribly inefficient to carry out in a public setting." He paused. "... How do you feel about signing nondisclosure agreements?"

"N-Nondisclosure agreements?!"

"Honey, you're going to terrify the poor thing," Mrs. Leech tutted--but she was giggling faintly as though she had just heard a witty joke. "Don't worry. My husband can be a very gentle man."

D-Don't that imply he also has the capacity to be very ungentle?!

"E-Erm..." You worriedly glanced at the twins, who were smirking (but, you had noticed, not actually intervening).

"What does your family do, anyway?" you once asked Jade.

He had taped a finger to his lips and mysteriously answered, "They simply run an independent business that dabbles in a bit of everything. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."

"Some help here, guys?" you whimpered.

"Sorry, not much we can do," Floyd responded with a (very unhelpful) shrug. "Dad's got his stuffy processes. No one can get in the way of those."

"I-I'm not going to be roped into making as blood pact, am I?!"

"Blood pact? My, what an active imagination you have." Jade chuckled. "I believe I have informed you before that our family business is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Frankly, I'm not sure I believe you anymore!"

"Oh my~ Did you hear that, dear?" Mrs. Leech grabbed her husband by the arm. "It sounds as though Jade and Floyd's friend doesn't trust us."

"Indeed." He was smiling, but it did not fully reach his eyes. "It would be a shame if we allowed them to walk away with the wrong impression of our happy little family."

"Fufufu... We'll have to correct that, won't we?"

[schrijverr]

Go Ask Daddy, Bud, I’m Napping for a Bit

Divergence from chapter 23, where when Buck is tired in the lead up towards Christmas, he accidentally refers to Eddie as daddy to Chimney. It’s just automatic due to Chris, but it gets some weird looks and attempting to explain doesn’t make it sound better. In trying to defend himself more comes to light.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warnings: discussions of sex

~~~

Christmas is drawing near and Eddie and Buck have been alternating on taking extra shifts, as to not throw off their schedule too much while still saving up.

You never realize how expensive holidays are until you’re an adult. And those expenses increase exponentially when you have a kid. They still don’t know Chris’s Christmas wish, so they’re making sure they have enough for whatever it will be. The kid deserves not to be disappointed.

Right now, however, Buck is exhausted and slightly grouchy about it. His extra shift is a 48 hours that is a 24 hours for both A and B shift. So, his first 24 hours with B shift have rolled into the next with the A shift and he is so, so tired.

He thinks someone on B shift must have said the q-word, because they’ve been running all over town all day. He’s hoping that the curse won’t last into this new one, because that will suck ass. Of course, he’d do anything for Chris, but by god does he want this shift to be over.

The others ribbed him a little about it when they came in, but five calls later, they’ve slowly eased off of him.

They’ve just come back from their latest call and Buck has collapsed onto the couch, fully prepared to take a nap and too lazy to walk all the way back down after climbing the stairs to get a snack. He likes napping on the couch and listening to the hum of the station anyway.

Buck is already halfway asleep, vaguely listening to Eddie and Hen chatting at the kitchen table, when he is interrupted by Chimney asking: “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”

And later, Buck will totally blame the curse for the way he gestures in Eddie’s general direction as he grumbles: “Go ask daddy, bud, I’m napping for a bit.”

He would have dropped off in the immediate shocked silence that came after that, were it not for Chimney loudly exclaiming: “Daddy?”

It startles him and he blearily tries to open his eyes as he sits up, going: “Wha?”

“You just referred to Eddie as daddy,” Chimney informs him, a mix of gleeful, confused and a little weirded out. “Unless you have opinions about Hen that you didn’t share with the class.”

The words break through the exhausted fog and embarrassment floods through him at the realization of what just happened. The sweater thing was just such a Chris question and he’d been on his mind, due to the Christmas present conundrum, so it had just slipped out as natural in the sleepiness.

A bright blush paints his features and he’s sure everyone can see. Still, he tries to deflect: “Are you sure, man? Pretty certain I said Eddie, you must’ve misheard or something.”

“No, you said daddy,” Hen speaks up and Buck looks over to her. She is raising her brow at him, then at Eddie, who is across from her, also blushing. She continues: “And Eddie here looked over at it without missing a beat.”

“So, it’s normal for you to call Eddie daddy, is it? Hm, curious,” Chimney accuses.

“You’re making it weird,” Buck protests.

“And it’s not?” Hen counters unconvinced.

“No, it’s not. It’s not a thing,” Buck says as confidently as he can anyway.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Edmundo. You’ve been awfully quiet,” Chimney directs himself towards Eddie, who’s been quietly trying to disappear into the background. Buck feels guilty about that, Eddie didn’t ask to be caught up in Buck’s stupid brain fart.

“Uh, I thought he said Eddie,” Eddie defends himself after a beat that last too long to be believed.

“Hm, you thought he said Eddie, did you?” Chimney hums in a knowing tone, which irks Buck to no end. It’s not like he’s wrong, but he doesn’t have to be smug about it, or make it a sex thing – ironic coming from him, he’s aware.

“Oh shut up, it was just a slip of the tongue. I’m tired,” Buck says.

“Freudian slip,” Hen coughs and Buck glares at her.

“I’ve been hanging out with Chris and Eddie a lot,” Buck tells them stubbornly. “He calls Eddie daddy, so you start doing it when talking to him and my brain got it mixed up. You two are making it something it’s not.”

Chimney squints at him, clearly trying to discern whether he’s lying or not. In a way, he isn’t. He has been hanging out with Chris and Eddie a lot and he does refer to Eddie as daddy when talking to Chris because of it and his tired brain did get mixed up.

However, Hen doesn’t buy it, asking: “Really? You say to Chris things like ‘go ask daddy’ and not ‘go ask your dad?’ You don’t do that with Denny. Or Harry.”

Fuck, busted.

“Uh…” Buck starts dumbly, unsure where to go from there.

Before he can say something more incriminating, Eddie comes to save him. He says: “It’s not that big a deal, you guys are really taking this and running with it for no reason.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees immediately. “Like, what do you even want me to say? Want me to confess me and Eddie are having steamy, kinky sex? We’re not. And despite my daddy issues, I don’t actually have a daddy kink. That’s not necessarily how that works.”

His need to please has translated more into being a service switch and having a massive praise kink, but he decides to keep that to himself for now. He doesn’t want to turn the him and Eddie conversation into a sex conversation more than it already is. Buck is pretty sure he will explode if it does.

Chimney and Hen pause at that, likely trying to think of why they’re pushing this the way they are. A part of Buck doesn’t want them to think about it and doesn’t want to think about it himself either. What if they picked up on the way he’s in love with Eddie and that’s why they thought they were onto something?

“You’re sure?” is what Chimney finally says, suspicious eyes going between Buck and Eddie.

Scandalized and annoyed, Buck exclaims: “Chimney!”

“What?” Chimney says defensively.

At that point, Bobby comes up the stairs from where he’d been filling out his reports. He has heard some of the ruckus and when he comes upstairs to find Buck glaring at a defensive Chimney, while Hen and Eddie are spectating – though Eddie with less amusement and more embarrassment than Hen – he asks: “What’s going on here?”

Before anyone else can speak, Chimney answers: “We’re trying to figure out if Buck and Eddie are fucking after Buck accidentally called Eddie daddy.”

“I told you, it’s because I’ve been hanging out with Chris and it’s not like that,” Buck exclaims. “You’re making it something it’s not. We’re not fucking!”

“And we said that it’s a little weird that you went ‘go ask daddy’ and not ‘go ask your dad,’” Hen reminds him.

“Yeah, and you two are being very defensive about it,” Chimney adds.

“Of course we’re defensive, you’re making a brain slip surrounding my kid weird,” Eddie grouches. “And throwing around accusations.”

Bobby hums thoughtfully as he tries to decide how to proceed. All of them hold their breath while they wait to see whose side Bobby will pick, and if he’ll even pick a side or will just walk away and distance himself from it.

Finally, he says: “No one in this house would judge you two, you know that right? If you want to keep things private, that is fine, but you will need to fill in the proper paperwork.”

Outraged as a result of the embarrassment and feeling exposed, Buck cries out: “You too? Why do all of you think we’re fucking?”

“Maybe because you two are making heart eyes at each other every day?” Hen snorts.

“What?” Buck squeaks, because, yeah, he is making heart eyes at Eddie and he kind of gathered he probably wasn’t hiding all that well, but what does she mean ‘you two’?

“Huh, what are you talking about? I’m straight,” Eddie frowns in confusion.

Hen looks taken aback by that. “You’re straight?” she asks disbelievingly, clapping her hand over her mouth the second it slips out.

“Yes!” Eddie says defensively, before his voice gets a slightly vulnerable edge as he adds: “Did you- did you not… think that?”

“Uh, no, I thought you were just low key about being gay,” Hen admits a little sheepishly, looking like she feels bad about bringing it up.

“Wait, but if Eddie’s straight, then why are him and Buck always eye fucking? What have we been witnessing these past few months?” Chimney interrupts loudly.

“Us being friends?” Buck suggests tentatively, unsure if he wants to risk it, but not wanting to make anyone think it’s something other than that.

“And there’s nothing else going on between you two?” Chimney asks suspiciously.

“No, no. No, definitely not,” Buck quickly assures him.

“You’re lying,” Chimney accuses, finger jabbing in Buck’s direction. “We all know you can’t lie for shit, Buckaroo, and that, was a lie! You two are fucking.”

“We’re not fucking!” Buck yells, face as red as a tomato. He’s still embarrassed by the daddy comment, then embarrassed by everyone seeing through him and pointing out how much he wants to fuck Eddie, and on top of that uncomfortably reminded that Eddie will never want him like Buck wants him.

“Then what is going on?” Bobby asks in that kind concerned fatherly manner that Buck usually loves, but right now makes him feel like he’s being cornered.

“Why do none of you believe that there’s nothing going on?”

“Because you’re a shit liar,” Chimney says.

“I can lie,” Buck says defensively, crossing his arms.

“Sure, you can,” Hen agrees patronizingly.

“I can!” Buck protests, before he lets it go, it’s not the point right now anyway. “And even if I can’t, I’m not lying now. There is nothing between me and Eddie.”

“Nothing, huh?” Chimney still doesn’t believe him, but lets him be for now, instead turning to Eddie again and asking: “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

“That you guys are being ridiculous,” Eddie offers. “Me and Buck are friends. Good friends. He’s been a huge help with Chris and he was just tired. It happens. You’re all just seeing things.”

“Hmm,” Hen hums as she studies Eddie closely with squinted eyes. “I can’t tell if he’s lying.”

Eddie sends her deadpan look. “I’m not lying.”

“You see, I want to believe you, but something makes me feel like there is something you’re hiding from us,” Hen tells him as she leans over to look intently at his face, scrutinizing him.

Unimpressed, Eddie also leans over the table so he can look right back at her. “Okay, do tell. What do you think I could be lying about? What are we hiding? Because we’re not fucking, I can tell you that much.”

Buck doesn’t know what Eddie is doing, challenging Hen like this. Eddie is the better liar between them, but inviting them to dig deeper when they’re already uncomfortably close, doesn’t seem like a smart idea. However, Buck isn’t going to get the attention on himself. If anyone is giving it away, it’ll be him. Best to keep to the background.

“You’re either really good at lying, or incredibly codependent with Buck to the point of you two acting married,” Hen finally says. Buck doesn’t see what Eddie’s face does at that, but everyone can hear Hen exclaim: “Oh my god, why did your face go pink when I suggested you two were married?”

Chimney whips his head towards Buck and immediately asks: “You two are married?”

“Noooo?” Buck says, cringing the second he does, because that sounds like a lie even to himself.

“You totally are!” Chimney has wide eyes and his mouth gapes slightly at it.

“That is something that you should have definitely disclosed way before it got to that point,” Bobby frowns.

“Come on, when would we have the time to get married?” Buck deflects, hoping for the best. “Don’t you think you would have noticed us getting married?”

“Right now, I don’t trust anything anymore,” Chimney says.

“Yeah, it could have happened at any time. Bar for that first shift you two have always acted like this,” Hen agrees, then her eyes grow wide and she points between the two of them. “Wait a minute, you’ve always acted like this.”

“What are you saying, Hen?” Bobby asks.

“That they’ve been married this whole time?” Hen suggests, sounding as if she can barely believe what she is saying herself.

“Are you sure? We saw them meet,” Chimney says skeptically.

“Yeah, Hen, that’s ridiculous,” Buck says.

“Then why was Eddie blushing?” Hen counters.

“Because you called our friendship incredibly codependent?” Buck offers.

“Which I only did, because he asked me what you two were hiding after you guys started being weird about us pointing out you two were close,” Hen says. “And the only reason I’m even entertaining this absurdity right now, is because you don’t sound convincing at all when you deny it.”

“Hey, come on now,” Buck protests weakly.

Bobby’s hand appears on his shoulder and he looks up at him. There is a mix of hurt and confusion in Bobby’s eyes as he genuinely asks: “Just be honest with me here, Buck, are you and Eddie married?”

And Buck hates this, because it’s Bobby, who is asking and Buck is already bad at lying, but he’s even worse at lying to Bobby. This whole scheme depended on them not being suspicious enough for anyone to ask directly and now he’s being asked directly. All because he accidentally called Eddie daddy. He’s never going to live this down.

“Okay, fine. Yes, we’re married,” he admits after a beat.

“Buck!” Eddie calls out, as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’

“You know I can’t lie!” Buck defends himself. “He’s just looking at me and I- I just couldn’t.”

“Wait you guys are actually married?” Chimney asks.

“Yes,” Eddie sighs, “we are.”

“But you’re straight?” Hen asks in a tone that implies isn’t sure she’s buying it.

“I am,” Eddie glares at her, heckles raised. “It’s a marriage of convenience.”

“So the Buck calling you daddy is…”

“Just like you calling Karen mommy when talking to Denny?” Eddie fills in. “Yeah.”

“That makes you a father,” Bobby suddenly realizes as he looks to Buck.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” Buck says, unable to help the prideful smile on his face. “Chris is a great kid. Love him to death. I mean, you met him, you know how amazing he is.”

Bobby’s face does a weird thing at that and Buck can’t place it. It makes something twist inside him, what if Bobby disapproves of him as a father? What if he thinks Buck can’t do it?

However, before he can ask Bobby what he’s thinking, Chimney butts in: “Okay, but how long have you been Chris’s dad – which, kind of weird, not going to lie – because I’m still confused about when you guys met.”

“Yeah, and when did you get married?” Hen also asks.

Buck looks over at Eddie, trying to communicate if they’re going to come clean about the whole thing now that the cat’s out of the bag. Eddie seems resigned and embarrassed by the whole situation. Buck can relate, but he feels bad about Eddie also feeling like that. However, Eddie sends him a reassuring smile, which makes him feel slightly better about the whole thing.

“Well, we got married in 2016,” Buck answers Hen’s question, since it kind of automatically answers Chimney’s question too as being not during their first shift together.

The room explodes into noise at that, which is fair enough considering what they just shared. However, Buck still kind of leans away from the yelling. It’s mostly variations of “2016?!?!?” and “What the fuck!” and “Why would you lie about that?”

When the yelling dies down, because it’s not getting results, since there is no space for them to speak, Buck clears his throat and says: “Yeah, uh, 2016. We did lie about that.”

“Why?”

“What part exactly?” Buck asks, just to be sure.

“Why you lied,” Bobby says at the same time Hen says: “Why you got married.”

“So we can work together,” Buck answers, while Eddie says: “For Chris.”

“Okay, we need order,” Chimney says. “I ask the questions, if anyone has another question, they raise their hand and I will give you your turn.”

“Are you a school teacher?” Hen smirks in amusement.

“No, I’m showing leadership,” Chimney corrects her. “Now, Buckley, tell us why you two lied about being married. Hell, about even knowing each other?”

“Uh, well, we wanted to work together,” Buck explains. “Eddie had gotten the offer from Bobby and we figured that offer would be retracted, if he knew we were married, even though it’s not like that, so we decided not to say, but then we thought it would be weird for me to just randomly know him and not have mentioned him before and then you all would ask questions and I can’t lie, so we thought it would be best to just start from scratch.”

Everyone blinks at him for a second, so he adds: “We realized it was a dumb idea, but by then it was kind of already too late and we’d gotten in too deep.”

“That… is actually very in character for you,” Chimney finally says.

“But not for you,” Hen says, directing herself at Eddie. “Why did you agree with that?”

“Hey, I was doing the questions!”

“Oh shut up, Chim,” Hen rolls her eyes. “So, Eddie. Why go along with it?”

“Uh,” Eddie looks away, cheeks getting redder, as he admits with a mumble: “I came up with it.”

“What?!” both Hen and Chimney choke and even Bobby makes a weird noise. They’re so shocked at the idea that Eddie can be dumb too, which Buck gets, but it’s also so funny and he can’t help but burst out into laughter.

“Don’t laugh!” Eddie exclaims, but Buck can hear he’s starting to crack up too. That makes him happy, he didn’t like embarrassed, walls up Eddie from before.

“It’s funny,” he manages to get out between peels of laughter.

“It’s not,” Eddie says, but he lets out a huff of laughter of his own.

“You came up with it?” Chimney finally finds his words.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie nods, biting away his grin. “It was a strategic sharing of information where relevant.”

“God, you’re just both stupid,” Hen mutters under her breath. Both Eddie and Buck choose to ignore her, because she’s not wrong, but they don’t have to acknowledge that.

Bobby clears his throat and says: “Well, informing me of this, would have been relevant. And I will be informing HR about it and figuring out the paperwork, any disciplinary action, and if you two can continue working together at this house.”

That settles a stone in Buck’s stomach. After the embarrassment of calling Eddie daddy in front of everyone and then the lighter atmosphere of the questions, the real reasons they never told and tried to lie had moved to the background. Until now.

He sees Eddie tensing up and he is off the couch before he knows it. He implores: “Bobby… I- I know, you have to do that. I do. But can you- can you wait until after Christmas? We’re trying to save up for gifts and the holidays are expensive.”

Immediately Bobby’s eyes soften, a melancholic note playing in them, as Buck waits with bated breath to see what Bobby will say. After a moment, Bobby says: “Of course. I can wait.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck says gratefully.

“Yes, Cap, thank you,” Eddie also says.

The atmosphere has changed now and they’re all just awkwardly standing there, until Chimney says in a hushed tone: “I think we just witnessed dad Buck for the first time.”

“I think we did,” Hen agrees, a smile breaking out on her face.

Buck blushes a little, unable to help the flush of warmth that goes through him at being acknowledged as Chris’s father. He distracts from it by playing at offense and swagger as he says: “Hey, I’ve pulled out the dad Buck before.”

“Really? When? You’ve never been mature a day in your life before this, Buck-o,” Chimney grins. It’s playful but gentle, as if he knows he’s handling something fragile here and just acting his role as the comedic relief that he likes to cast himself in.

“I once told you to eat your greens,” Buck reminds him – a mortification from his probie days that, at the time, he thought he would never recover from.

“Oh yeah, you did do that.”

“And have none of you guys ever paid attention to Buck when on calls with kids?” Eddie asks. He’s gotten up and is now near Buck, bumping his shoulder lightly as he grins: “Definitely the papi I know from home.”

“Papi?” Bobby asks, only slightly butchering the word.

“Yeah, Chris calls me that,” Buck says, the blush returning slightly. “Eddie was already daddy, so growing up in a Mexican household meant that labeling me as papi was only logical to his five year old brain.” He shrugs. “It’s become so normal, I don’t even register it as odd anymore.”

“Five years old?” Hen does the math, “That must be right after you gotten married, right?”

“It was. He told a teacher about it and that’s what prompted it,” Eddie says. “Before that it was Evan, though I’m half convinced he’s forgotten that was ever your name.”

Buck nods in agreement.

“So how long were you Evan?” Hen asks curiously.

“Two years,” Buck says. “I met Chris when he was three. I worked on a chicken farm in El Paso and they bought eggs there. I babysat first, then met Eddie a year later when he was back from tour. We started co-parenting because Shannon was out of the picture and I offered to help.”

“And you two got married for Chris, you said. Why? I mean, it might provide a more stable home, but if you’d been co-parenting without it for a year already, why do it? It’s quite a big step,” Hen asks.

They all look at them curiously and Buck looks over at Eddie again, silently asking how much to share about the whole situation. Wordlessly, Eddie tells him to go ahead and just tell everyone. Eddie himself has never been the talker between them, so Buck happily takes the lead in explaining.

“Chris had to have surgery and that’s expensive, so the bills got too high. Eddie re-enlisting was the only way to keep our heads above water, but I didn’t have any legal basis to keep Chris. We were scared he’d get taken and placed with his grandparents,” Buck explains, not trying to go into too much detail about why they would not want that. “So, we looked into me adopting Chris and stepparent adoption was the quickest. We planned to get divorced, but just didn’t get around to it. We have a mortgage, you know. And private school is expensive.”

Everyone is sharing looks that Buck can’t full decipher, he looks over to Eddie, but he seems equally confused.

However, none of them say what those looks are about. Hen just nods as she gets it, saying: “Hence the marriage of convenience.”

“Uh-huh.” “Yup.”

“Daddy and papi,” Chinney shakes his head after he looks between them. “That’s gonna take a bit to get used to.”

“Thank you for sharing that with us,” Bobby says, putting a hand on both their shoulders. “You are two fine young men and I am proud of you both, even if I’m disappointed in you for lying. I know you can be professional, so just continue the way you’re doing and we’ll sort everything out come January. That sound good?”

“Yes, Cap.” “Thank you, Cap.”

“Alright,” Bobby gives them a satisfied nod.

Then the bell starts ringing and Buck groans. He’s still exhausted and he never did end up getting his nap. However, as he rushes to the rig with everyone, he does feel a little lighter than he did before. It feels good to not be lying and continuously live with the feeling of getting found out at any moment.

Still, he could have done without it being revealed the way it did. If he thought he wouldn’t live down the ‘eat your greens’ comment, he’s definitely never going to be able to live down the ‘go ask daddy’ moment.

At least inviting Maddie over for Christmas will be easier now…

~~

A/N:

This is so fucking stupid, but it came to me and I just couldn’t help myself. It’s so funny to me and I just had to. Like, I love them <3

[aves-rook-laidir]

Here are my live notes that i typed out on the Sticker App while playing the game for the first time. - MAJOR SPOILERS -

They are slightly out of order because I was just jumping in typing wherever:

Holy shit it’s on TWO DISCS?!!?

Not me staring at the press any button screen for ages

I like that Neve is like Cassandra, your no 1

Davrin Rook bonded so fast because they were immediately thrown into a dragon battle together and it got really tough real quick

Did Gilhanain just say YOUR BLOOD KNOWS YOU’LL DIE HERE?

Absolutely loved bringing harding as the extra companion, she’s just so exasperated by it all

I do feel like the va tone didn’t always fit with certain more serious situations.

Staring at Solas in photomode, so mixed emotions, mostly exasperation.

So what was he doing at the strart? Putting evanuris in a stronger prison, then tearing down the veil, or? Because if he was just putting them in a new prison, and exlained himself to Varric non of this would be happening.

God damn, someone ask Morrigan about the fith blight, actually, is it even public record who journeyed with the Warden? Was it kept hush hush?

Can wardens still hear the calling if all the high dragons are awakend? Whos calling them in the deep roads?

I wonder if Davrin has a hard time talking about the elven god reveal because he has a special relationship with Halla and Ghilanain was the god of Halla? 

Oh, why would we have Varric's shaving mirror?

Lucanis so fucking weird haha

Davrin - “Couldn’t have asked for a better day” Rook immediately, ungracefully slides down a cliff

Emmrich is making a mistake, why would he want to be immortal, like look at these three imortal clowns running around.

Ok so The Ancient Elves were spirits who took physical forms using the lyrium, which is the blood of the ancient titans, They became the first mages? This caused a war between the elves and the titans

I wish they had shown more of Emmrich getting her out of the fade, because that is his very specific skill, like all the attention Lucanis got about using the dagger, to cement Emrrich's role in all this, I wanna see him being a badass in a direct story point.

The Butcher was scarier than Elghanan, should not have been,

Elghanan should have been wayyyy scarier, less talking.

“The gods they give strength but all they ask in return is everything” dope

Literally fuck off no scene getting her out of the fade, her reacting to getting out, the grief? The Relief? Helo?

“Though Harding also told me” LMAO Emmrich

I feel like it makes more sense for Harding to sneak up on Ghillie, This is her moment, tragic because we’ve seen her whole journey. Harding saying ‘should I take the shot’ at the start of the game then taking guaranteeing Ghilanains death with her simple bow and arrow. and to have this little dreamless thing, created out of the desicrated titans be the last thing she sees, fuck yes.

The first thing they did was retrieve all the bodies. They found Harding and Leliana and the Inquisitor brought her back to her village

Solas: How did you even get out of the fade? Rook: gestures vaguely to Emmrich standing behind her ‘He knows more about the fade than you.'

I wish there was a bit more dialogue with Dorian at the end, saying ‘Do it for Varric and or Harding, won’t you? They were just so…oh, you…know...’

Taash everyone I loves dies NONONO I love you!

‘Everything dies, its what they do’ Including imortal gods

Is solas fucking losing??? fucks sake cant even do one thing

Solas assisting the Shadow Dragons at the end paint a funny picture, like, imaging Dorain trying to evacuate the city and Solas is just also there, after like 10 years. How did that reunion go?

It had to be bellara that got blighted, those gods were hers, that history is hers, and she's just so innocent, it was a great character arc

me the whole time 'its fine just go grey warden'

Shaved her head after coming out the fade to feel something

What if it’s not enough? What if it is?

I really though time travel was going to be a thing, after the dorian stuff?

Leo represent my Inky because in my AU she is too weak to travel as the mark is still sucking the life out of her, arm or no arm, but she dragged her ass up for that final scene with Solas. Leli and Josie spread a misinformation campaign around thedas, so unless you meet them directly its really hard to know if Inky is a female Elf, Male Human, and whoever else.

I hope Morrigan is ok

[brittlebutch]

i love making things up as i go along

[feroluce]

Oh my god I had completely forgotten about this, Boothill actually does commit grand theft auto in canon and everything, I'M SO HAPPY FDKSLAJFDKL

Not pictured: Aventurine asking Ratio if he remembers where they parked

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys". He's still unambiguously being the villain of this scene, and it makes no real difference to the oppressed themselves, but there is a comical gap between where Zuko thinks he is, where he actually is, and somehow it still puts him on the same page as his victims just because of how terrible the Fire Nation's influence is on everyone involved.

[caelesjjk]

entangled - jjk&kth - part two

⟶title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 9k ⟶ warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, more infidelity type things, reader is confused af, two smut scenes because we take what they wanna give us: unprotected sex (don’t do this tho), dirty talk, kissing, fingering, couple position switches, it’s all pretty lovey dovey ⟶ summary: Kim Taehyung is Venom. A huge, terrifying symbiote monster that’s bonded with him and made a deal for a common goal. You don’t know what you’re doing. Your feelings are mixed and frazzled and confused. But you may not have the time to sort them out just yet if you can’t keep the two people you care about most from killing each other first. ⟶ authors note: hello darklings. You’ve all waited way too long for me to get this second part together and for that I apologize. I hope this makes up for the wait. The third and final part that follows this will be a bit of a wait too while I work on another fic, but I promise it will come. Big endless shoutout to @sailoryooons for listening to me whine about this for months and for beta reading the mess that it became. Also shouts to @tea4sykes for reading before it was even done to reassure me it was flowing okay. I love you guys.

Part One (if you missed it)

playlist if you want it: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5cg79N5KQBmZ9fOCtyD3A7?si=cQlAtRT7Roat33E60rzKtQ&pi=u-lMIH9SpZSD6X

You needed to run.

Everything was happening too quickly, your head couldn’t catch up with your feet that were scrambling across the floor in every direction trying to escape the monster Taehyung had just turned into. He had you completely trapped with nowhere to go.

Not to mention you were mostly naked with only a thin sheet barely clinging around you.

“Stop! Leave me alone! Please!” You beg and scream as it cuts you off again when you make a dash for the stairs.

“No. Leaving.” Venom roars and tries to make a move towards you, but stops when you accidentally back into the record player Taehyung has sitting on his side table.

The record scratches and squeaks at a high pitch and Venom groans in pain at the sound, his clawed hands grabbing at his head as he stumbles backwards. His black, crawling skin pulls away until you catch glimpses of Taehyung beneath the monster. 

“Run. Please…run,” he begs before Venom consumes him again. But before he can get too far, you push over the record player so that it makes a constant high pitched noise and Venom screams until he falls back against the railing and goes over the edge.

You don’t wait to see anything else. 

Grabbing the ends of the sheet you dash towards the bathroom and shove the door closed behind you, looking around frantically for a way to escape. Immediately your eyes see the fire escape outside the window. 

You see some discarded clothes on the floor and immediately throw on the T-shirt and basketball shorts before using all your strength to shove open the old window that has obviously not been used in years. The old white paint cracks and splinters to the floor as you climb up onto the sill.

A loud bang suddenly sounds from outside the bathroom door. Venom must’ve stopped the record player. 

“Where are you, girl?” You hear his menacing voice travel through the door. 

Your pulse picks up again as you shove yourself the rest of the way out the window and into the pouring rain. The metal of the fire escape creaks and brings an instant chill to your already shaking body. 

Looking back, you see the bathroom door shatter with the force the monster uses to break it open. You can barely hear yourself scream as you throw your weight onto the top of the window and close it behind you. You don’t look back again as you sprint down the stairs of the fire escape, but the sound of Venom crashing through the glass makes you move faster. 

Bricks from the warehouse crunch beneath his claws and feet, causing pieces to crumble and rain down over your head. As soon as your bare feet hit the pavement, you make a mad dash past the docks and towards the main road.

The rain pelts against your face as the clouds continue to block the sun that should be starting to come up now. There is barely any light for you to see where you are going while the world is still wrapped in a navy blue hue.

You can see headlights up ahead. Cars. People. A way out.

“Not so fast.” Venom suddenly drops in front of you, making you stumble and fall to your back against the cobblestones. Your elbows scrape across the ground as you try to move away but he’s too big and too fast.

“Please…just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you. I swear.” You press flat to the ground as Venom looms over you, his face slowly maneuvering downwards until your nose almost touches him.

“We…want to keep you. Protect you.” 

“You’re scaring me, Taehyung. How can you say you want to protect me?” The crawling, black skin of Venom’s face peels away to reveal Taehyung once more.

“You’re in the middle of something that you shouldn’t be,” Taehyung says desperately. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“_____, please stay away from Jungkook. He-” Taehyung is cut off when Venom closes the skin back over his face. “He’s here,” he growls, moving to stand over top of you.

Before you can question him again, the bright light of a laser blast shoots past you, barely skimming Venom’s shoulder and blowing chunks of the ground all over you.

When you look back up, the red and gold suit of Ironman comes flying into your view. He tries to fly between you and Venom, but the monster is too fast, back handing Ironman and sending him flying into the side of one of the buildings.

“No!” You yell, trying to get to your feet but you can’t get your footing with all the rubble surrounding you.

“Stay. Back,” Venom whips around to tell you. That distraction is enough for Ironman to come flying back, hitting Venom in the stomach with his shoulder and throwing the two of them about ten feet away.

You don’t want Jin to hurt Taehyung. Venom is the monster. Taehyung is good. He’s gentle and kind. 

Your head hurts so badly and there’s blood dripping down your newly busted lip. You don’t know what you can do but you have to do something. 

Getting to your feet as the rain continues to pour from the thundering clouds overhead, you clamber through the rubble trying to get closer to where Jin has Venom pinned against the side of a dumpster. Just as you approach, Venom hits Jin’s hand away causing the laser blast to go off and almost hit you. You felt the heat of it skim past your face.

“Get out of here, _____! Now!” Jin yells, losing his balance when Venom pushes him off into the side of another building. You fall back on your ass, hitting the wet street once again.

Venom crawls over to you slowly. The sight of it freezing you in place as the slithering skin of his face once again pulls back to reveal Taehyung.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, bending to get closer to you. You can see Jin getting back up out of the corner of your eye.

“Run, Tae. Please just run away and hide. And don’t ever come looking for me again. They’ll kill you.” You touch his cheek and his eyes close. “Please go.”

Just as you take your hand away you hear someone from above you yell your name, your head whipping up at the familiar sound.

Venom’s face consumes Taehyung again as he steps in front of you defensively. Jungkook comes into view, swinging down from a web attached to the nearest warehouse. 

Jungkook moves so quickly you can barely register what’s happening before he’s kicking Venom hard enough to make him roar and fly across the other side of the road.

“Get her out of here, Jungkook!” Jin yells as he comes back into the fight.

“We have him where we want him! I’m not leaving!” Jungkook yells back, shooting a web at one of the big pieces of rubble and flinging it towards Venom.

It shouldn’t hurt to hear him say that.

It shouldn’t sting like a slap across the face when he doesn’t choose you again. But god, does it fucking ever.

“Now!” Jin screams the word at Jungkook, barely holding off Venom, who is scraping and clawing with all his might to get back to you.

Such an anomaly this turned out to be.

Jungkook shoots off a few more webs, catching them on one of Venom’s wrists and sticking to the ground so it’s harder for him to move. And then Jungkook is whirling around and scooping you into his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, looking over his shoulder to watch the fight between Jin and Venom for as long as you can before they’re just dots in the distance as Jungkook swings you back into the city.

You almost start to doze off from exhaustion when you feel the world stop moving and Jungkook standing you on your feet. You almost lose your balance at the loss of him so suddenly.

“What the fuck were you doing out there, ____?” Jungkook asks, his voice loud and full of an anger you’d never heard from him before.

“I…I was just going for a walk…” the lie falls from your mouth before you even have a chance to think about it. “I got lost…”

“How do you always do this? How are you always in the middle of some terrible shit?” Jungkook rips his mask off and throws it across your bedroom against the opposite wall before he starts to pace.

“I’m sorry…” you feel so small as you watch the anger radiate off of him.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? Do you have any idea what you’ve likely cost us tonight?” He comes into your space, backing you into your kitchen counter.

“Jungkook…” 

“Just…stay out of my way, Data.” His shoulders slump when he steps back from you and grabs his mask from the floor. Your body shakes and gives into your exhaustion, your knees hitting the floor as Jungkook bounds off your balcony.

The only light in your apartment is from the barely there sun, casting shadows of your furniture and the plants on the windowsill across the hardwood floor. It’s quiet, too quiet when there’s a busy city 10 floors down.

How could one person make you feel so loved and so alone at the same time? Were you the bad guy? You slept with Taehyung out of spite…didn’t you? That’s how it started at least…now you’re not sure how you feel.

You don’t understand Taehyung, and part of you wants to know more. Why is he allowing Venom to control him and use him? What does he get out of it? All questions you would love to ask him if he wasn’t an absolutely terrifying monster.

A monster that Jungkook could possibly be killing right now. That thought makes you nauseous immediately.

You crawl across the floor until you can press your back against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest and putting your head between them. You needed to block it all out for a moment…or several.

You don’t know how long you have been sitting there or when you fall asleep but eventually you lift your head and squint at the sun trickling in through your windows and balcony doors. A perfectly cool breeze moves your green curtains and gives you goosebumps.

When your back starts to hurt from sitting on the wood floor, you convince yourself to get up to close the door. You know you desperately need a shower as well.

As you reach the balcony door, you see Jungkook sitting on your stone railing, his head in his hands. You want to rush towards him and make sure he’s okay, but you stay put.

“How long have you been out here?” You ask quietly, hand gripping the door handle too tightly.

“A while.” Jungkook mutters, his hands coming up to his hair and pulling at the roots.

“You…you should go home, Jungkook.” You hate the sound of your own voice right now. Weak and scratchy.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier, Data.” He moves slowly, head coming up as he slides off the railing to stand.

“But you did. And I have a feeling you meant them.”

“No…I just don’t understand why we can’t catch this monster. And when I saw you there, I lost it.” He runs his hand through his mess of black waves.

“Did…did you catch him now?” You swallow thickly, not sure what answer you want to hear.

“No. Jin couldn’t hold him. He’s looking into asking Dr. Kim for help in building a trap.” He looks defeated and the guilt starts to crawl up your throat.

Dr. Kim Namjoon is a scientist that most people would know as the Hulk. He’s a brilliant mind and someone you very much look up to as far as the career path you hope to take one day. It scares you that he might get involved in capturing…or killing Taehyung.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to whisper.

“Data…” He steps closer to you and you flinch a little. “Fuck…fuck I’m so sorry. You were scared and you’re…you’re fucking hurt and all I did was yell at you.” Jungkook stays where he is, but reaches out his hand towards you.

“I don’t…I can’t,” you whimper.

“It’s okay. Let me take care of you, baby. Please.” His hand stays out stretched and you know if you take it that the guilt will continue to eat away at you. That you can never tell him what you know. Because you care about Jungkook…but you care about Taehyung too, and you just hope he runs and doesn’t come back.

You take Jungkook’s hand and he gently steps towards you again until he’s close enough to cup your face in his hands, angling it in different ways to mentally take note of your injuries. He runs his thumb over the bump on your forehead and the cut on your lip that has you wincing. His lips press to your forehead when your arms finally wrap around his middle and fingers grip at his back.

“I’m just making trouble for you, JK.” Your lip trembles when you look up into his eyes, his brows scrunching in confusion.

“We knew when we started that this wasn’t going to be easy. But I…I have a responsibility, Data. And I’m doing my best to do that and keep you safe.” He swipes at your tears and lifts you onto the counter so he can stand between your thighs. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You believe him. But at what cost? What will happen to him if he continues to worry about you instead of the danger he is so heroically protecting the city…maybe even the world from. He is your best friend and something so much more. 

Your hands slide into his hair, the damp strands sliding through your fingers in the most familiar way. Jungkook's hands stay on your cheeks as he pulls your mouth to his, swallowing the little whimpers that try to escape you.

His lips taste like his favorite minty chapstick and the cinnamon gum he had probably chewed on his way back to your apartment. He always chews it when he needs to think more clearly.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” you whisper between sweet pecks to your lips.

“Angry…maybe. But cruel? No. You mean more to me than that.” His mouth finds your jaw while his hands gently hold your shoulders. “How about a bath?”

Could you really be deserving of these moments with Jungkook when you were enjoying being face down on Taehyung’s bed just a day ago?

Fuck. You were so fucking selfish.

You nod your head ‘yes’, not trusting your voice when guilt is rising up your throat.

Jungkook picks you up from the counter, your arms around his neck and legs around his hips as he carries you towards your tiny apartment bathroom. Stopping once or twice to press your back against the wall and slip his tongue into your mouth. A tongue that you gladly suck between your teeth until he moans your name.

“Get these off.” Jungkook shoves into your bathroom, the space almost too small for you and his broad body. He makes quick but gentle work of your dirt and blood stained clothes, kicking them into the corner of the bathroom.

You help him slide the sleeves of his blue and red suit down his arms, slowly revealing all the beautiful ink tattooed into the skin of his right arm. Your hands follow the dips of muscle of his torso as more skin is revealed from beneath his suit.

After he’s naked and you’ve thoroughly touched as much of his bare body as you can, you slide your ass up onto your tiny marble vanity and open your legs for him to stand between. Jungkook stands back a moment, his eyes roaming and settling between your legs.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You went through a lot tonight…” You don’t let him finish his sentence, wrapping your fingers around his semi-hard cock so you can stroke him.

“Let’s talk later. Right now I just need to feel you inside me. Remind me why I’m yours…please.” You could feel traitorous tears try to well in your eyes and Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion for a moment.

“Data…” He puts his hand over yours to stop your strokes.

“No. Please…I need you.” You meet his eyes and it only takes him a moment to tighten his hand on yours and help you move your fist up and down his cock again.

Jungkooks head rolls forward, a deep grumble in his chest sending shivers up your spine. He steps closer so his hips can widen your thighs and you can guide his cock to your entrance. You’re so wet that he easily pushes into you, your back arching off the vanity mirror at the stretch.

“You’ve always been my girl, Data.” His tattooed hand grips your hip and steadies you when he begins to shallow thrust, crude wet noises already coming from where your bodies meet. “Your pussy always remembers me so well.”

“Do the other Avengers know how filthy your mouth is?” You whisper, leaning forward to kiss him.

“My filthy mouth is only for you.” Jungkook kisses you back, sheathing himself completely inside you and holding himself there. He moves his swollen lips down your jaw and over your chest until he reaches your nipples, sucking and pulling until you’re a moaning mess.

“Please move, Jungkook.” You inch your ass forward until it’s perched right on the edge of the vanity. Jungkook groans against your breast, lifting his head to look where your bodies meet.

He holds both your hips in his hands as he begins a quick pace. But no matter how fast he pumps his hips against you, he never misses that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your eyelids.

“You feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna last…” His distressed face meets yours and you reach up to touch his face and pull him closer.

“I’m so close, JK…please make me come.” He kisses you, hard and unyielding while his cock drills you against the mirror. You’re almost afraid it’ll break when he forgets how strong he is. But you don’t care, you want him to break you. You don’t deserve soft and sweet right now.

Jungkook lifts you off the vanity and faster than humanly possible has you on the floor of your hallway right outside your tiny bathroom. He throws your legs over his shoulders and hits a spot inside you that almost immediately has you crying out his name and coming all over his cock. Your pussy clenches around him so hard it makes him whimper above you, bringing him to his own orgasm. He fills you up as warmth spreads all over your body.

“Did I hurt you? I was too rough…” His hands are immediately on your face angling you to look at him.

“No, I’m okay. I promise.” You smile at him, hoping that it feels real. You’re too riddled with guilt.

“Let’s get in the bath.” He pulls out of you slowly, sitting up on his knees while he presses soft kisses to your fingers and palm.

The tub is far too small for the both of you, but it doesn’t matter. Water sloshes out onto the floor each time you move, but that doesn’t matter either. It feels good to have his warmth behind you when you lean back against his chest. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Jungkook asks after a while, his hands rubbing your arms while his lips kiss the top of your head.

You freeze, knowing that you should tell him the truth. That you know who the monster is that he’s searching for. But you can’t bring yourself to put Taehyung in danger. So you lie. Again.

“I went for drinks with friends last night…I got lost walking home. I don’t know how I ended up at the docks. It was so stupid of me…” You hate how easily the lie spilled out.

“You aren’t stupid, Data. You just seem to have a magnet for danger.” He laughs quietly, kissing your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I messed things up for you and Jin,” you sigh, slumping against his wet chest.

“Don’t worry about that. It won’t be much longer before we have the monster.” 

“Have him?” You ask, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“Mr. Kim thinks the monster is a human. An experiment gone wrong. He wants to help him…or study him. As long as it isn’t running free in the city anymore.” Jungkook explains, his hands gathering some soap bubbles from the water and washing your arms and chest with gentle fingers.

“How would he help him?” If Jin can help Taehyung…then maybe he can get rid of Venom.

“I’m not sure. I think we would be better off getting rid of it altogether. It’s a menace.” You feel Jungkook’s muscles tense as he talks and you know you still can't tell him the truth about Venom.

You don’t say anything else, afraid that your voice will shake and give you away. He knows you too well. 

Jungkook makes sure you’re cleaned up and comfortable in bed before he leaves you again. In most cases you would feel hurt that he’s left, but you need time to think without your feelings being clouded by his presence.

What the fuck are you going to do?

Going about your normal day to day life felt wrong. You go to school. You study with your friends. You see Jungkook on occasion, and every time you do, the guilt burrows a little deeper inside you, whittling away at your ability to keep up the facade. 

What makes it worse was that Taehyung hasn’t been at school for two weeks. It makes you absolutely terrified that something has happened to him. That undeniable connection you felt with him makes it difficult not to worry.

Sleep almost completely evades you the last two weeks.

“You look terrible,” Hoseok pokes, sitting a fresh coffee down in front of you on the library study table.

“Charming,” you grumble, snatching the coffee and inhaling its heavenly caffeine-illed scent.

“It’s not even finals season, why aren’t you sleeping? Trouble with the boyfriend perhaps?” Hobi sits his backpack down and plops into the chair next to you.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You press your forehead to the table and gently hit it against the top a few times. “And I just…my upstairs neighbor has been noisy.” The lies start to come out easier and easier the more you make up.

“I told you to move in with me months ago. Way closer to campus.” He pops some cheese cracker snacks into his mouth.

You know it would be nice to live with Hoseok. Easy. But you can’t. Not with Spider-Man coming and going and a giant monster possibly looking for you now. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to your friend.

“I appreciate that offer, you know I do. I just…like my space.” You sigh, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He probably knows you’re lying, but if he does, he doesn’t let on.

“Offer continues to stand if you change your mind, ___.” The look on his face is serious for a moment before he points the bag of snacks towards you. “Crackers?”

You smile and take a handful, popping them into your mouth as you sit back in your chair and listen to Hoseok talk more about nothing and everything for as long as you can.

After Hobi leaves, you continue to study until you notice the daylight is starting to disappear outside the library windows. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning when your stiff muscles protest before packing up your things to finally head home for the night.

Pulling your phone from your bag, you see there’s been no messages from Jungkook since yesterday afternoon when he said he would stop by as soon as he could. It shouldn’t be disappointing, you should be used to it, but that little pang still makes you feel some type of way.

You sigh, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you exit the library and see that it’s raining again. It seems like there has been constant rain over the last two weeks, making everything dreary. A mirror to how you felt inside as well.

Not having an umbrella, you power walk down the street towards the train station to get home. It’s only a couple of blocks but you still hate to do it at night. Especially when you get a sudden chill at the back of your neck, as if someone is following you. But every time you turn around, no one is there.

“Relax, ____. You’re exhausted and delirious,” you say to yourself, trying to calm your nerves as you continue walking.

Something big moves at the corner of your eye, dashing down the alleyway to your right and making you halt your quick steps. The only way to your apartment is past that alleyway, so you convince yourself once more that the exhaustion is getting to you and you press forward down the sidewalk.

You hold your breath and close your eyes as you sprint past the alleyway, stopping after a few feet to catch your breath.

You make it. You’re in the clear. The home stretch.

A cold hand wraps around your wrist and yanks you backwards into the alley. Your brain tries to catch up with what’s happening but when you try to scream, another hand covers your mouth just as your back is pressed against the cold, wet bricks of the wall behind you.

“Pigeon.” Taehyung’s deep voice sounds hoarse but also relieved. Your fight or flight instincts immediately melt away when your eyes settle on his injured face.

A cut on his eyebrow, a bruise beneath his left eye, blood dripping from his forehead from beneath his mess of black hair. What the hell happened to him?

You gently wrap your hand around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from your mouth.

“I won’t scream. I promise,” you assure him, his shoulders visibly unwinding.

“I know you’re scared of me. I’m sorry…I put you in danger because I was being selfish.” Taehyung takes a step back from you, giving you space.

“I’m not scared of you.” You reach out and softly touch his cheek just beneath his eye where the bruise has blossomed and he shivers at your touch.

“I’m just glad that you’re safe.” Taehyung moves your palm to his lips and presses a kiss to your skin.

“What happened to you, Taehyung? Where have you been?” 

“All I’ve wanted since this started was to expose The Life Foundation. They’re testing on people and killing them. Not a single person has survived until…”

“You,” you say quietly, watching his shoulders slump before he nods in agreement. “How did this happen?”

“I went to the lab to interview a couple of the scientists for an assignment…I got a little too curious I guess and followed a scientist down into a part of the lab no one knows exists. That’s where I saw the people they’re testing on…in cages. The symbiotes like Venom need a host but it wasn’t working and no one was surviving.” Taehyung runs his hand through his hair before he continues. “I accidentally released Venom when I tried to save one of the people in the cages and he bonded with me and somehow I survived. Still not sure how…”

“What’s stopping you from exposing them?” 

“I wanted to have hard proof before I took the information somewhere else but I haven’t been able to get back inside the lab, not even with Venom.” 

“Because of Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself into. They have suspicions but they’re keeping me from shutting the place down.” Taehyung sighs. “Your boyfriend is a pain in my ass.”

“What if…what if we talk to him? Jungkook will listen. I know he…” Taehyung cuts you off with a laugh.

“They think I’m a monster…and they aren’t wrong. But all Venom wants is to save the other symbiotes and get back to their planet.” Taehyung’s words almost sound disappointed when he talks about Venom leaving.

“But he’s…he’s hurting you. Can’t Venom heal you?”

“He does…he has. This last round of injuries was…extensive. I’m just healing more slowly.” He slumps against the opposite wall of the alley.

“You need to rest.”

“No. No, we’re going back to the lab tonight to try again.”

“Taehyung, please. He’s going to get you killed. Jungkook and Jin…they’re powerful.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” He raises his voice slightly, but chokes on his words, folding over when a pain shoots through his side.

“That’s it. I want to talk to Venom.” You can’t stand to see him like this.

“Absolutely not. I’m not putting you in danger.”

“You’ll be there, right? You won’t let him hurt me.”

“I can’t always control him. He doesn’t always listen.” His eyes search yours for any sign of fear but he doesn’t find it.

“Let him out.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for Taehyung to release his monster.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving.” He takes several steps away from you until there’s plenty of space between the two of you. You nod that you’re ready.

The black crawling skin of Venom consumes Taehyung in almost an instant, his handsome face disappearing beneath terrifying white eyes and razor sharp teeth. Deep, bass filled growls flow from between those teeth and rumble the ground beneath your feet.

“Creature.” He says, smiling widely.

“Monster.” You retort.

“Sorry for…chasing you.” He keeps his distance, but paces back and forth through the alley. “I was…hungry.”

“You chase people and destroy buildings when you’re hungry?” You half laugh in disbelief.

“Very hungry!” He growls, pushing against a dumpster.

“Fine. Forget about it. I want you to let Taehyung rest, you’re going to get him killed.”

“Taehyung is fine.”

“No he isn’t! He’s all beat up, and I don’t even want to know what’s wrong internally. He needs time to heal.” You take a few steps closer.

“I can heal him, Creature.”

“He needs to rest. You need him and he won’t be of any use if he’s dead.” You stop as Venom groans and shoves his fists into the ground beside you.

“Demanding little bug.” He half spits.

“How long can you live without your host?” You don’t flinch at his outburst.

Venom doesn’t answer right away, he goes back to pacing the alley before he starts talking to himself…or to Taehyung.

“Bad idea…she pisses me off…should eat her…” Venom grabs his head in pain when the last line leaves his mouth. “Fine. No eating.” He comes back to stand in front of you, looming several feet taller. 

You look up and hold your stance. You’ll never let this pain in the ass monster know that he absolutely terrifies you.

“Three days. Three days before your atmosphere kills me.” Venom says, not seeming pleased.

“Then leave him alone for three days. Go away and let him rest. I mean it.” Venom lowers his face to yours so that you’re standing eye to eye. 

You can see your reflection in the shiny white of his eyes and your heart picks up its pace. Not because of the monster in front of you, but because somewhere behind those eyes is a man that means more to you than you thought he ever could. The strange feeling of just knowing someone is meant to be in your life becomes slightly overwhelming.

Without a second thought, one of your hands comes up and touches the side of Venom's face. His symbiote skin is cold, strange and unfamiliar. But it only takes a moment before Venom is melting away and once again revealing the stunned face of Taehyung.

“You got him to listen.” He breathes, taking your face in his hands.

“He’s not so tough.” You smile when he laughs and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re exquisite.” His nose skims yours. “And I missed you.”

“I was so worried about you,” you admit softly against his mouth that has gravitated to yours.

He kisses you softly for a moment, neither of you noticing as Venom slithers out and makes his exit down the alley. You’re too relieved to have Taehyung safely pressed against you again. And when he starts to deepen your kiss, as much as you want it to continue, you press your palm to his chest and gently push him back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I wasn’t joking about you getting rest. I got you three days with no Venom. Let’s get you home, okay?” You lace your fingers through his and start walking towards the street, but he stops you.

“I haven’t been able to go back to the warehouse. They’ve been watching it like hawks.” His shoulder slump when he rubs the back of his neck.

“Where have you been sleeping?” 

“Abandoned buildings mostly. Or just not at all.” He laughs half heartedly.

“Let’s go to my place.” You know it’s a bad idea. Jungkook could drop in at any moment and you aren’t sure how he would react to finding the man behind the monster he’s been so desperately trying to defeat. “You’ll be safe there.”

“Will I?” Taehyung asks, wary for the same reasons you are.

“Yes. Because I’ll protect you.” Taehyung smiles at your declaration.

“I have no doubts about that, Pigeon.”

You take as many back ways as you can think of until you reach your apartment building, releasing a long breath when you safely reach the elevator and unlock your door. 

It feels strange to have Taehyung here, but also very right. He looks like a weight has been lifted off of him as he takes in your green velvet couch and collection of coffee mugs with a boxy smile on his face.

“You’re adorable.” He says, picking up a tiny cactus from your bookshelf that could definitely use some water.

“It’s not much.” You shrug, feeling your cheeks heat.

“It’s perfect.” He comes back to stand in front of you, long fingers gently gripping your chin to make you look at him. “It’s you and I think that’s perfect.”

“Tae…” you sigh but give into the kiss he sweetly presses to your lips. 

“Thank you.” He whispers after a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had…” You cut him off with another kiss.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You take both of his hands in yours and start to lead him towards your bathroom. “You, however, need to take a shower.”

“Saying I stink, Pigeon?” He teases, following you to your tiny bathroom.

“Definitely,” you counter, smiling when he laughs. A real laugh that you aren’t sure you’ve heard yet. It makes your stomach twist and clench.

“Come in with me?” Taehyung asks quietly when you bend to turn on the hot water for him. His fingers find your spine and tease up the column slowly.

God you want to. But the sudden memory of Jungkook in this bathroom with you two weeks ago clouds your vision and your ability to have this too.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? Take your time.” You stand on your toes to kiss him quickly, ignoring the pang in your chest when he pouts his bottom lip.

You close the bathroom door and press your back against it. You listen as Taehyung opens the shower curtain and gets inside, the smell of your rose scented body wash wafting from under the door when he uses it. You must be insane.

Bringing him here is so risky, but you can’t leave him out there with nowhere else to go. He means too much. 

When the bathroom door opens twenty minutes later, you jump at the sound, almost dropping your cup of tea to the hardwood floor. It almost takes a tumble a second time when you look up and see Taehyung standing in your kitchen with just a towel around his waist.

“My clothes were in pretty bad shape…I don’t suppose you have something I can borrow?” He asks with a shy smile on his face and fingers in his wet curls.

“Um…y-yeah. Yes. I’ll find something.” A wave of heat rushes over your skin as you hastily move past him and into your bedroom at the end of the hallway. He follows you, leaning against the door frame to watch you.

“Are you worried he’ll come here?” Taehyung asks, the pretty smile on his face replaced by a frown.

“A bit.” You admit, kneeling inside your closet to look through some drawers for sleeping pants. “It’s really just a matter of when…”

“Is he what you want?” The question throws you off, making you pause.

“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer, more complicated than it should be. Taehyung nods but doesn’t press for more information. You’re not sure you can come with anything else even if he wants you to.

You finally find a pair of green and navy blue plaid pajama pants, pulling them out of the drawer and bringing them to Taehyung. 

He drops the towel as soon as you’re in front of him, eyes holding you in place with nowhere to escape.

“Thanks, Pigeon.” He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he slips his long legs into the too short leg holes and settles them loosely on his narrow hips. Your breath shakes when he steps closer and closes the gap between you. 

“I made you tea,” you croak.

“I don’t want tea.” He practically moans against your neck when he nuzzles your jaw. “I want to show you why I’m what you want.”

Your entire being trembles at the words.

“You should rest, Taehyung.” You can’t stop your hands from finding the warm skin of his shoulders and chest.

“No rest for the wicked, Pigeon.” His mouth claims yours, swallowing down any other protest you may have tried to use.

He slowly leads you back until the back of your knees hit your bed and you both fall onto the mattress. He kisses you until you’re dizzy and desperate for air, your legs wrapping around his hips in a desperate attempt to bring him closer.

And then you remember that your stove is still turned on with tea likely boiling over all over the burners.

“Tae…” Yyou try to say before his lips close over yours again. “The tea…I need to go turn it off.”

“No.” He nips your lips and moves his kisses down your chin and over your jaw.

“I’ll be quick. Just wait here.” You playfully push him off of you, his head landing on your pillows with a smile on his face.

You look back over your shoulder when you reach the door, Taehyung winking as you round the corner into the hallway.

Luckily, the tea is where it should be, inside the kettle. You turn off the burner and move the kettle onto a potholder onto the counter top. Then quickly turn off the lights before stopping by the bathroom to make something of your mess of hair as quickly as possible.

Back in the bedroom, you barely make it inside the door before you hear the quiet snores coming from Taehyung. His arms above his head and his face buried in the pillows as he lays on his back against your mustard yellow sheets. His half dried curls a messy little halo around his head. 

He really is beautiful.

You make your way to the bed, pulling your comforter over his sleeping form and softly touching the bruises in his cheek. He doesn’t stir even a little. 

Over the next three days you, watch him.

You’ve never seen someone sleep so much in your life. It worries you at first, checking to see if he is breaking multiple times throughout the day. But he just continues to sleep, only moving to turn on his side or stomach and barely makes any noise at all.

You email your professors the first day and tell them that you won’t be in class but would follow along online. You move a chair into the corner of your bedroom so you can stay close to him. It keeps you busy while Taehyung sleeps.

You also keep busy with cleaning your apartment and thinking of ways to have a very hard and strange conversation with Jungkook. How did you tell your best friend…someone you love…that you may also have feelings for someone else? 

And how did you then tell your best friend that the other person you have feelings for is the monster he’s been trying to capture for months?

At night you curl up next to him in your bed, but always carefully so you don't disturb him. You want him to feel better as soon as possible.

It was mid morning on the third day, some very difficult calculus questions driving you crazy when you hear Taehyung groan and lift his head from the pillow. 

“Pigeon?” He croaks, his voice rough and dry.

“I’m here, it’s okay.” You toss your book aside, rushing over to the side table and handing him the glass of water you sat out every day in case he woke up needing it. “Drink this please.”

He doesn’t argue, taking the glass of water and downing all its contents in an instant. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands, chest heaving.

“That may have been the best water I’ve had in my life.” You take the glass and sit down next to him on the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost three days.” You move some black curls away from his forehead when he looks up at you.

“Really? I wasted the whole three days sleeping? Fuck.” He sighs in annoyance.

“It wasn’t a waste, Tae. You obviously needed it after what you’ve been through lately.” 

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter and twist. Like he’s never seen anyone like you or felt anything like your touch. It’s maddening.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He squeezes your hand and jumps out of bed far too quickly, heading into your bathroom where you hear him using the extra toothbrush you had sat out for him. You can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

When he returns to the bed, he sits behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest so he can nuzzle his face into your neck.

“Thank you for watching over me,” he mumbles into your neck.

“How do you know I watched over you?” You ask, leaning back into his chest.

“There’s a chair surrounded by snacks, coffee cups and calculus books set up in the corner, Pigeon.” Taehyung kisses your neck and makes you shudder. “You’re too good for me.”

“It’s not that.” Your voice is a whisper when he moves your sweater off of your shoulder to kiss the heated skin there.

“What is it?” His mouth continues leaving warm, wet paths along your neck and shoulder.

“I care…about you.” Your head lulls back against his shoulder when his hands slide up your front beneath your shirt to cup your breasts in his hands.

“I’m still going to show you why I’m what you want…what you need. I didn’t forget.” He nips your earlobe and pinches both nipples with his long fingers at the same time.

You spin around, grabbing his face roughly and slam your mouth onto his in the next second. Taehyung’s hands immediately find your hips helping you straddle his thighs to settle on his lap. 

Any clothing creating an unwanted barrier between the two of you are quickly discarded without a care for where they land. Your skin feels like there’s millions of tiny embers just below the surface waiting to crack through and set the whole room on fire. 

Taehyung holds one arm tightly around your waist while the other maneuvers the two of you back farther on the bed so he can rest his back against the headboard. Your mouths never leave the others, tongues and teeth clashing in the most desperate way. 

“Are you okay…with this?” Taehyung suddenly asks. His hair is a mess and his lips swollen and chapped.

“I don’t know how to answer that question anymore. I wish I just knew what to do…” You feel emotion start to take over and Taehyung grips your chin to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter. Not right now, okay? Right now I just want you to be mine. Because I’m yours…I belong to you.” He says it so simply. And it should be simple. It shouldn’t be possible to love them both.

He pulls you back to him, kissing you so gently it makes you shiver. One hand glides to the back of your head and settles in your hair while the other lifts your ass to hold you above his cock that was standing tall with need between your legs.

No more words need to be spoken as you position him at your entrance, your pussy slick and sticky from the build up to what’s about to happen. He takes his hand from your hip and brings it to your throbbing clit, using his thumb to stroke it slowly while you lower yourself onto him.

The stretch of him mixed with the way his thumb strokes you is as close to heaven as you can imagine. You can feel yourself getting wetter that more you try and accommodate his size.

“Be good for me, Pigeon. Ride my cock.” He moans the words around one of your nipples when he leans forward to capture one with his lips.

Once fully seated, you slowly move your hips in a circular motion, causing his engorged cock to hit places inside that make fireworks pop behind your eyelids and your head to fall back when your back arches.

“Fuck…you feel so good,” you finally manage to say.

“I could come right now just watching you take me like this, angel. Like you were made to have my cock inside you.” Taehyung groans as his hands find your hips and help you start to move up and down.

You find a mind numbing rhythm, and orgasm on the brink of breaking through. You’re so close it almost hurts. 

“I need to come, Tae…please.” You wrap your arms around his neck, sweaty chests sliding against the other.

“Me too. Fuck, I can’t wait to come inside you.” He holds you steady, digging his heels into the mattress and thrusting upwards to meet your movements.

A silent scream has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling to the back of your head when you finally get your release. Taehyung’s lips and tongue scorching the skin of your neck when he feels you clench around him.

“Good girl, Pigeon. Come all over my cock.” He holds you down, fully sheathing inside you when he finds his release as well. 

You slump against his chest, breathing hard as you start to come down for the incredible high he had just given you. 

Taehyung kisses your shoulder and up your neck, over your jaw and chin until he reaches your lips. Kissing your raw lips in the softest way.

“You okay?” You ask, still out of breath.

“Never better.” He smiles, moving sweaty hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some more water. Maybe snacks?” You move from his lap, the sudden empty feeling making you groan.

“Venom will be here soon. If he isn’t already.” His smile fades.

“I know. So let’s get you fed and hydrated before he makes his presence known, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Don’t be too long.” He holds your hand to help you off the bed while he readjusts against the headboard. You playfully roll your eyes, grabbing your t-shirt off the floor and quickly throwing it on before you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen.

You fill up two more glasses of water and begin rummaging through your cabinets for any sort of edible snack when you hear tapping on the glass doors leading to your balcony. You nearly drop everything when you turn and see Jungkook standing there in his Spider-Man suit, his mask in his hand.

“Fuck.” You grumble, sitting down the snacks and water before going to unlock the door with pure fear coursing through your veins.

“Since when do you lock this door?” Jungkook asks as soon as you turn the lock.

“Just to be safe.” Your voice shakes and your eyes continuously flash towards the hallway where you know your bedroom door is wide open. Another man in your bed.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long I just…” He pauses, a look you recognize crossing his face. He senses something.

Shit.

“Is everything okay?” You know the answer.

“He’s in here.” Jungkook immediately starts to push past you to look through your apartment.

“Who? What are you talking about Jungkook?” You try to grab his arm while he looks in your living room.

“The monster. I know that feeling anywhere. He’s here. What the fuck is he doing here?” You shove against his chest to stop him.

“There’s no monster here. I think you need to go.”

“What the fuck is going on, Data? Is someone else here?” His jaw ticks and your panic is starting to take over.

“I…um. Jungkook, please just listen.”

“Who? Who the fuck is it?” He pushes past you and you grab his arm to stop him before he freezes in place, looking at the doorway that leads to the hall.

Taehyung in all his shirtless glory stands leaning against the frame.

“Looking for me?” Taehyung smirks and you want to die.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook practically seethes.

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that.” Taehyung takes a step towards you and Jungkook immediately blocks his path.

“You’re him? The monster from the lab?” Jungkook asks, moving into an even more protective stance.

“You don’t need to protect her from me.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and walks over to the counter where you left the water and snacks, picking up a glass and taking a few drinks. “I’d never hurt her.”

“You mean the way your monster left her bruised and bleeding by the docks? Fuck you.” Jungkook takes your hand and pulls you towards the balcony door. “I don’t know what you’re doing with him, Data, but he’s fucking dangerous. Let’s go.”

“Jungkook, please. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t fight me on this. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Since when do you care about ___? She may as well be alone when she’s with you.” Taehyung moves to stand in front of the doors.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I don’t drag you to Mr. Kim this fucking second.”

“Is that so, spider boy?” Taehyung smiles and grabs Jungkook’s shoulder to stop him from dragging you any farther.

Jungkook lets go of your wrist and pushes Taehyung in the chest. But before he can make any other moves, Venom’s black crawling skin swallows Taehyung and replaces him with the huge looking monster.

Venom roars, shaking your entire apartment. He’s so big he takes almost half the room.

“Get the hell out of here, Data!” Jungkook yells, slipping his mask back over his face.

You want to rip your hair from your head. Scream at the top of your lungs. Stomp on the floor like a two year old throwing a tantrum. 

But you deserve this after what you’ve been doing.

“Stop.” You say, watching Jungkook shoot a web at Venom’s sharp clawed hand. “Stop it!” You practically scream, making the both of them pause to look at you.

“Go outside, Creature.” Venom growls.

“You’re both going to listen to me. Right fucking now.” You walk across the kitchen and stand between them. “You’re not about to destroy my apartment with your pointless fighting. So listen to what I have to say.”

Jungkook stays in his defensive position but nods towards you for you to continue.

“You’re going to listen too, monster. Understand?”

“Bossy little creature.” He groans, ripping Jungkook’s web off of his hand and giving you his attention.

“I realized the other day that you all want the same thing. You want to shut down that lab and stop the testing they’re doing on humans. Venom wants to save his friends and go home and Jungkook, I know you want to save everyone trapped inside there. So why don’t we all work together to make it happen?” You release a long breath after everything spills out. “And after we do that…then we can talk about…us.” You motion between the three of you.

“Data…I didn’t know that I…” Jungkook starts to say but you stop him by holding up a hand.

“We aren’t doing this now, okay? Right now, we need to go see Jin.” 

“Ironman.” Venom growls in distaste.

“He can help. I know he’ll know how to get you and the other symbiotes home.” you try to reason. 

Venom contemplates for a moment before answering. “Fine, Creature. But if he messes with me, I eat him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jungkook half laughs, taking off his mask as he approaches you. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. Now let’s go.” You walk out the balcony door and wait expectantly. “Well?” You tap your foot.

Jungkook and Venom stare at each other for a moment, silently telling the other that these conversations aren’t over but that they’re going to trust you on this.

Jungkook puts his mask back on once more and makes a beeline towards you, grabbing you around the waist and jumping off the balcony with you in his arms. Venom barks a laugh and quickly follows after.

And then you’re falling.

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies @sureconfused @boisenberry77@ts19009 @lorarri @looneybleus @joyouart @armyugh @kthsmoon @vminluvrs @ooooglymoooogly (i did my best with this, i may have missed people who asked)

series masterlist

[baby-yongbok]

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦

Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers

♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.

♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?

♡ Word Count - 9.2k

♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!

♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major

✧ Masterlist ✧

When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.

Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.

That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.

As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 

You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 

“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 

“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”

You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.

“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”

Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 

Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”

“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.

“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.

“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.

You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.

“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 

“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.

“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”

Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”

Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”

“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 

“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 

“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 

Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”

“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 

“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 

“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 

“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”

“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 

You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 

In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 

When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 

“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”

You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.

 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.

 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  

“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 

“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.

“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 

“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”

“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 

You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.

You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.

It was a dream. 

Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.

He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 

That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.

He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.

You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 

You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 

“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”

“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 

“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 

“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 

You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.

He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 

“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 

“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 

“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.

“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.

 “You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 

His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 

His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.

He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 

His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 

His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.

 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 

Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 

She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 

“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 

Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  

He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 

“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.

“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?

He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 

He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 

“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 

“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 

Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.

Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 

Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 

Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.

“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.

A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 

You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 

“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 

“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”

“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”

You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”

Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 

It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”

Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”

Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”

His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”

Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 

“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.

“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 

“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 

“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 

You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 

Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.

You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 

A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.

The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.

 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 

On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 

For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.

The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.

He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 

You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.

The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 

“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 

He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 

Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 

The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.

“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.” 

“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.

 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”

“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 

“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”

Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”

Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”

“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 

You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 

You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 

You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 

You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 

You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 

Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 

His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 

“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”

He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 

“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 

His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.

 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”

You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 

His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 

Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”

 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 

His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.

 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 

He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 

Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”

 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”

 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.

“You can. Please, I want you to.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.

 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 

“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.

“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 

“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”

“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 

His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.

 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 

“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”

 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 

He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 

“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.

“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.

“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”

“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.

 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 

Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.

“You didn’t finish that one.”

He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.

“It looks like you."

It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 

Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.

The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 

It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 

“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 

You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.

“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 

“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 

“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 

Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 

“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 

You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 

“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 

“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 

It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 

“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 

She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.

“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 

“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 

“Shut up.”

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[starsinthesky5]

trick or treat* || joe burrow x reader

description: he was always Mr. Anti Halloween, but for you? for you, he'd do anything. even if that meant overcoming his childhood hatred for the holiday :)

a/n: a little post halloween fic for you all! sorry this took me so long :) it wasn't planned at all so I hope it's good and not all over the place!!

thank you @joeyb1989 for some inspo ;)

warnings:, language, smut, fluff

word count: 11.7 k

tag list (comment to be added!): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeys-babe @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid

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

"Baby, pleaseeeee," Joe whined as he hid his face in your neck, pulling the hood of his onesie even lower to hide his face simultaneously. "Please don't make me go out there," he murmured, his words soft and pleading while his warm breath caressed your skin.

"Joey, it's gonna be okay," you giggled, rubbing gentle circles along his back, your hand sinking into the soft, fluffy fabric of the blue stitch onesie he was sporting tonight.

He pouted, snaking his arms around your waist in a playful attempt to anchor himself, preventing you from dragging him out the door. “I don’t wanna go,” he mumbled into the soft fabric of your matching pink stitch onesie. “I really don’t wanna go, baby. I’ll do anything if you let us stay inside tonight. I’ll make you a three-course meal, give you a full body massage, paint your nails--anything you want. I’ll even let you be on top more ‘cause I know how much you love it. That all sounds nice, right? Right?”. His voice was a mix of begging and teasing, you couldn’t help but giggle at the lengths he was willing to go to avoid the Halloween festivities. 

"Joey, I love you and appreciate your will to negotiate, but I’m not changing my mind,” you chuckled, swaying his body back and forth.

“B- But whyyy?” he mumbled against your neck, his incredibly delicate voice making you melt in his arms. Every word he whispered tugged at your heartstrings, and all you wanted was to go back to bed and snuggle his adorable self till he couldn't breathe. “Do you hate me or something?”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you dramatically gasped, stopping your soothing movements to add to the theatrical effect. "I'm app-", giggle, "appalled that you even considered such horrid thoughts," you said, trying to stifle your laughter and remain serious but failing miserably.

“...Am I accusing you or is it just the truth?” he moped, twisting his head in your neck so that he could look into your eyes with his wide baby blues.  

A pang of guilt pulled at you for pushing him into it, but you knew without it, he'd never agree. “I love you, and that’s why I’m making us go trick-or-treating tonight. You deserve to experience Halloween the right way, and I’m gonna make it happen this year,”. 

Tonight was your favorite night of the year and Joe’s least favorite night of the year, All Hallow’s Eve. To you, Halloween was a night filled with magic and mischief, a time to dive into the world of costumes, mysterious identities, and bags upon bags of candy. In years past, you'd normally find yourself getting absolutely trashed at some Halloweekend party with your friends, but in recent years you opted for more tamer celebrations. Part of the reason was that you didn't really enjoy getting blackout drunk anymore and left that behind in your college days, but another reason was because of your lovely boyfriend who preferred to spend every October 31st acting like it wasn't October 31st. To Joe, Halloween was a “stupid holiday”, an excuse for people to put on facades they’d never wear any other day. He didn’t see the point in what you were celebrating, and the whole thing seemed meaningless to him. That hurt your soul a little, knowing how much you loved Halloween and everything that came along with it. But when you found out the real reason behind his hesitation--the things he kept tucked away, the bits that made him see the holiday differently--your perspective shifted.

Even growing up, Joe wasn’t the biggest fan of the holiday. He loved the idea of dressing up in his little costumes, always excited to transform into a superhero or a silly cartoon character. But when it was time to step out onto the chilly, leaf-strewn streets, baby joey would hide. He couldn’t get himself to walk up to the door and mumble, “Trick or Treat”. He would hide, burying himself in his parents’ legs or peeking nervously from the porch to see if the bowl of candy was left out. The idea of knocking on doors and making small talk with strangers was all so overwhelming for him and that stuck with him a little even in adulthood. The spooky masks, the dark skies, and the anxiety of talking to strangers soured his feelings towards the holiday and Halloween quickly became something he’d rather skip. You understood that it wasn't just about the costumes and candy for him and that understanding made you want to help him create new, happier memories in place of the old.

But you really didn't have to push all that hard because every year, he still indulged in parts of the spooky holiday for you--at least the parts that he approved. Each year, he’d help you hang up the orange and purple lights, the flying witch decorations, and even the faux cobwebs across the shrubs outside. He’d grumble a little at the mess and the spooky faces staring back at him from the yard, but when he’d see the happiness in your eyes, every bit of effort felt worth it. Seeing you happy made Halloween just a little more bearable--and maybe, just maybe, even enjoyable.

You somehow made it more comforting for him, and even though he gave you the same speech every year about how pointless it all was, you’d eventually find him nose-deep in a bag of candy, a tell-tale smudge of chocolate on his lip betraying his facade.

Sometimes, he’d even cave and watch a Halloween movie with you, despite his irrational fear of anything remotely horror-related. But getting him there was never easy. He was, without a doubt, the most stubborn person you knew so it always took endless pleading, a little bribery, and maybe a few strategically placed kisses to get him to soften up. Soon after, he’d sink in next to you, arms crossed and pretending not to flinch at every jump scare. Or, he'd end up pulling the blanket high enough to cover his face if he wasn't already hiding it in the crook of your neck.

Flashback to a few weeks ago

“Babe, I’m not watching that,” he huffed, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw in opposition as you scrolled through the list of movies on the TV. 

“Baby, Scream isn’t even scary! It’s just a slasher film,” you said while turning to look at him, your bottom lip stuck out as you tried to use your usual irresistible pout to convince him to watch your all-time favorite scary movie with you. 

That pout did wonders for you when it came to Joe. It was your way of getting him to do all the things he'd normally resist--watching a scary movie, going out when he'd rather stay in, trying that new cafe you'd been raving about. Every time, he'd try to hold out, but one look at your face and his front would crumble. It would be replaced with a soft smile that he reserved just for you, just for his girl.

You watched as he sighed, his eyes flicking to your pout and back. His lips curled into a sweet smile and his eyes softened; he was getting lost in your charm and it was working.

Oh yes.

But the pout that usually always works in your favor, failed you this time and he quickly went back to his resolve without even flinching. “Put the pout away, babe. I’m not watching that,” he shook his head. “You look adorable, but it’s not going to work this time,” he added as his thumb traced slowly along your plump bottom lip. His hand lingered near your face and even in his most stubborn moments, he couldn't hide how much he adored you.

You blinked at him for a few silent moments before fully losing it, “But whyyyyy,” you whined, throwing your head back against the couch headrest, then shifting your head to look at him. “I promise it’s not scary! And I’m right here if you do get scared. You can squeeze my hand, bury your face in my neck, use me as a stress ball,”. 

"Thanks, Y/N, but it’s still a hard no," he chuckled at your attempt to persuade him. "I refuse to watch people get gutted by some psycho in a ghost mask. The whole concept of the movie is just dumb, anyway. I mean, why not just move towns or states? Why not just buy a gun? Or wait, even better. Just don’t pick up the fucking phone and talk to a stranger,” he giggled as you glared at him.

He leaned in, deepening his voice, and asked, "What's your favorite scary movie?" in his best Ghostface voice. “Like, come on! Just hang up, block the number, call 911, and get the hell outta dodge,”

You shifted away from him, your jaw falling open, truly offended by his disregard for the masterpiece that the original Scream was. After seeing your demeanor, he only laughed harder. “Oh, stop. You know I’m right. It’s probably the same with every horror movie. They just love to make the main characters dumber than a rock and then make them act surprised that a psycho with a knife is knocking at their door,”. 

“You know,” you interjected, giving him a playful side-eye. “You seem to know an awful lot about scary movie plots for a guy who refuses to watch a single one with his lovely girlfriend--the same girlfriend he adores, is utterly obsessed with, and would do annnnnnything to make happy,” you lean into the sarcasm, but laced it with enough sweetness to test his stubbornness, hoping it would make him cave. "You do like to make her happy, right? I bet that you watching Scream with her would make her soooo happy," you added, placing a hand on his thigh and giving him a gentle squeeze.

Joe smirked to himself before he leaned in, his lips grazing against the corner of your ear. “You gotta do better than that, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot and voice raspy. He was enjoying your attempt to sway him. The playful challenge in his eyes told you he wasn’t giving in that easily, but he loved every second of it. 

"Oh, come ON," you thought to yourself, realizing this would be much harder than you thought.

"What if I make you Pumpkin Pie after?" you asked him while flashing him a bright smile. Pleading wasn't working, so it was time for you to call in the big guns: bribery. God bless your ability to pivot without breaking a sweat, you could practically already see his determination crumbling as a hint of temptation flickered in his eyes. You were close to winning him over.

Yes. YES.

Joe pursed his lips, pretending to be deeply thinking about your offer before he opened his mouth after his dramatic pause, "Mmmm, nope," he shook his head, trying to keep a straight face.

You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch headrest again, then dropping your head to his shoulder where he moved his hand to cradle your face. He dropped a quick kiss to your forehead, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he enjoyed every second of your struggle. "Damn, you suck at this," he teased, his voice full of affection.

"What if I bake it naked. Only in an apron?" you offered, glancing up at him and knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist such a tempting offer.

Whenever you stepped into that kitchen to bake him something, it was like a switch flipped inside Joe. He became impossibly handsy, his self-control being thrown out the window the second he saw you in that baby pink apron, hair tied in a messy bun, and arms coated in flour. What takes 2 hours to bake, takes 4 when he's in there with you. You get so distracted by his slow neck kisses, his hands sliding over the curves of your hips, and the alluring words he whispered in your ear. By the end, flour would be everywhere. On the counter, on your clothes, even in his hair. He was always so proud of the mess you'd both made, and you didn't mind it one bit.

So, being naked--basically bare--while making him his second favorite sweet treat? Well, that was basically an open invitation for Joe to indulge in his first favorite sweet treat. You.

He definitely wouldn't be able to resist this.

"It'll be just you and me," you mumble, leaning your head forward so that your lips are sliding across his tan neck, his hand moving to grip your thigh as he instinctively pulls you closer. "In that big kitchen," you say as you drop a wet kiss on his sweet spot. "Allll alone," another kiss to his skin, this time along his jawline. "For as long as you want...".

His eyes widened for a split second before he let out a low, conquered groan, trying to fight back a grin at the same time. "You...are impossible," he muttered, shaking his head as he pulled you in even closer, your legs now curled up in his lap and his hand rubbing your calf.

"And you are always DTF," you giggled, taking note of his handsy-ness already beginning hours in advance due to the mere mention of baking a pie for him with no clothes on.

"...Mmph, alright, you win," he sighed, giving in to your wishes at last. "But that pie better be worth it or else I'm taking all this Halloween shit down," he warned while motioning to the few decorations around the living room.

"If the pie isn't worth it, I'll be sure to make something else worth it," you winked, your implied suggestion causing his cheeks to turn pink as you reached for the remote and clicked on Scream.

End of Flashback

Over the years, you'd managed to get your boyfriend to warm up to Halloween bit by bit. He'd sit through a few "scary" movies and even helped you decorate the house despite his complaining and groaning. But there was still one Halloween tradition you hadn't been able to get him to embrace: trick-or-treating.

That part of Halloween still brought back his old discomfort. Every year you'd try to get him to hand out candy with you, but he always refused and said he had to watch game tape in his office. You'd ask if he wanted to walk around the neighborhood and watch the kids trick-or-treat, but instead, he'd suggest you two go out to eat. Then you'd get a little bold and ask him if he wanted to go trick-or-treating together, and Joe would look at you like you had three heads.

Nothing ever worked--not the pout, the pleading, the bribery, or even your sweetest kisses. Trick-or-treating was the one Halloween tradition Joe just couldn’t get behind, no matter how much you tried. But this year, you decided to approach it differently.

You didn’t ask him to go. You simply told him you were going trick-or-treating together and made it nearly impossible for him to refuse.

You’d spent weeks planning, finding the perfect couple’s costumes, and dropping hints about how fun it would be. Every time he tried to fight it, you’d meet his eyes with that knowing smile, as if you could already picture the two of you walking hand in hand down the leaf-strewn streets. You weren’t giving him a way out this time. And deep down, a part of him knew he was going to give in--not because you’d worn him down, but because he loved seeing you happy.

Flashback to two nights ago

"Okay. I have three costume options," you smiled, holding up three shopping bags in front of him. Joe sat on the edge of the bed, looking a little frazzled, his expression already showing his hesitation.

"Wait...three?" he asked, eyeing the bags like they were bombs that were seconds away from exploding

"Mhm!" you grinned, pulling the bags closer. "You're going to pick the perfect couple's costume, I just know it,".

"Me? I told you, Y/N. I'm not going," he shook his head. "We do this dance every year and I don't know why you keep trying,".

Your shoulders dropped a little at his usual negative mindset towards Halloween, and you softened as you met his eyes again, "I keep trying because..." you hesitated, giving him a warm smile, "I want to make you have happy memories about this holiday, Joey,".

He blinked, surprised by the sincerity in your voice. Normally you'd be playful and silly when you talked about this, but this time you weren't and that set off the alarm in Joe's head.

“I want you to experience it the way you were meant to as a kid,” you continued, dropping the bags and walking over to sit beside him. “I want you to have the same silly experiences I did, so that one day,” you took his hand in yours, squeezing gently, “We can let our kids experience it the way we did. You deserve to feel the excitement of getting dressed up, the thrill you get once you count up the amount of candy you get at the end of the night, and the warm feeling the day after when you get to stuff your face with candy for breakfast. I know Halloween wasn’t your favorite back then, but I’m here now. We can make it ours. We can make better memories,".

"I know it's silly, I mean it is just a holiday. But I want you to experience it all, you know? And it'll be fun because I'm doing it with you," you added, your voice laced with sincerity.

Joe looked down at your hands, your words sinking in, and when he looked up, there was a warmth in his eye that hadn't been there before. Halloween might not have been his favorite holiday. But for you? He'd make it one he loved. He saw how much it meant to you, and he noticed how over the years you'd been changing his experiences with the holiday step by step despite his stubbornness. You never gave up on him, and that's why he loved you. That's why he was willing to do whatever it took to make you smile.

With a small grin, he eventually sighed, “Alright. Show me those costumes,”.

Your face lit up instantly, "Really?" you gasped, gripping his bicep in response.

"Don't make me change my mind," he said after dropping his head, although he couldn't help a smile from appearing on his face at the sound of your newfound excitement.

"I love you, Joseph Lee Burrow," you grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his soft cheek before jumping off the bed and grabbing the bags.

"I love you too, Y/N Y/LN," he chuckled.

He did, he really really loved you. He was willing to do anything to make you happy, to make his girl, his lady, happy. And who knows, maybe you were right? Maybe he would have a happy memory of Halloween after doing this with you tonight.

You picked up the first bag, quickly taking out the first set of matching costumes. "Okay, okay, hear me out--matching blue and pink stitch onesies. They're comfy and simple, and I think you'll look very adorable walking around in this,".

Joe raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto his face. "Comfy, huh? That's a plus, for sure".

You grinned, pulling out the next costume. "Option Two, Joker and Harley Quinn,".

"Oh?" he said, his tone laced with surprise as he saw your Harley Quinn costume or the lack thereof. "I don't know how I feel about you walking around in those shorts, babe,".

"I knew you were going to say that," you sighed. "But I still bought it anyway because you'd look so sexy with this Joker outfit and makeup on,".

Joe felt a blush creeping up on his face as he chuckled, "We can do that...but only for our eyes only. Your birthdays coming up, right? Consider me dressing up as The Joker one of your gifts," he winked.

"Noted," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as heat pooled in your stomach at his innuendo. You then pulled out the final option, trying to calm yourself as you showed him. "Last one, which is a classic. Pirates!" you grinned.

Joe looked carefully for a moment, peeking at each costume before finally meeting your gaze. It didn't take long for him to decide which one he liked best, “You know,” he said, a grin breaking through, “I think I’m gonna go with the stitch onesie,".

You raised an eyebrow in surprise at how fast he picked a costume, especially because he picked the one you didn't think he would pick. “Really? Why’s that?”

“Because,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “It’s super comfy, and you know how much I love aliens. Plus,” he added, leaning in closer, “It’ll be easy to take off of you later when we get into bed,”

Your cheeks flushed at the playful implication, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, stitch it is! But you have to promise we’ll take cute photos," you said, you were really just happy that he agreed to go and pick a costume without getting into a pillow fight with you.

“Deal,” Joe said, reaching out and gripping your waist firmly, pulling you close, and planting a quick kiss on your belly before resting his cheek against it while you raked your fingers through his soft hair. Halloween might not have been his favorite holiday, but with you by his side, he was ready to make it a night to remember--one cozy moment at a time.

"I love you," he mumbled against you before pressing another kiss to your belly.

"I love you too, my anti-halloween cuddle baby," you giggled, pressing a kiss to his hair.

End of flashback

You thought you had gotten him to fully embrace tonight, especially since he willingly put on his blue stitch onesie, but with the way he was clinging to you right now...he was definitely still struggling to let himself open up to it.

"What if they start laughing at me? I'm Joe Burrow, 27-year-old QB of the Cincinnati Bengals. I shouldn't be out trick-or-treating," he whined, hiding his face in your neck again.

"They won't laugh, Joey," you softly laughed.

"How do you know?".

"Because. You're Joe Burrow, 27-year-old QB of the Cincinnati Bengals," you grinned, gently shuffling both of you over to the foyer table where your candy bags were placed. "Man, you're big," you mumbled, slightly struggling to move because you had your 215-pound teddy bear attached to you.

He chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your skin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I thought you liked big boys,”.

"I do. Only you though. The rest are scaryyyy," you smiled, finally reaching the table.

"And I'm not?" he questioned, his voice laced with playfulness and flirtatious energy.

"Nope," you said while grabbing the bags. "You're my big, gigantic, muscular, adorable cuddle baby whom I never want to let go of" you softened.

"Hm, I think I prefer that over a scary football player," he chuckled.

Joe lost that tough, hard-headed QB persona when it was just the two of you. He was a total softie with you, revealing a side that few got to see. He would lean in closer during the quiet moments, dropping his guard as he shared little secrets and dreams with you, his deep voice softening to a whisper just for you. It was in these moments that you could see the real Joe. A man who cherished the little things, from the warmth of your hands to the laughter you shared over inside jokes. Each cuddle, each tender kiss that lingered a second longer, each time he pulled you into his tight embrace, he was just Joey. The boy who adored you more than life itself. Under the star athlete was someone who thrived on love, warmth, and connection.

"Good," you giggled, "Because me too. Anyway, it's just our neighborhood. Everyone knows we live here so I'm sure you'll just get a few 'hey joe!' screams and an occasional request for a photo,".

Joe lifted his head out of your neck, still looking a bit unsure for a few moments which prompted you to speak up. "I promise it'll be fun, Joey. I'm right there with you," you smiled, your hand sliding up and down the sides of his torso and your nails lightly scratching him through the fabric of his onesie. "Do it for me? Please?".

You saw a little shift in his baby blue eyes, relaxation and love flooded them. "Anything for her," he told himself. "Come on, Joe. Grow up,".

He took another deep breath before speaking up, "...Okay, but if someone asks me to do the Heisman pose in a Stitch onesie, I’m not doing it,".

You broke out in a fit of laughter at the mental image of him doing so and dropped your head onto his chest as your body shook from emotion. "D- Deal," you laughed, your heart swelling at how willing he was to step out of his comfort zone for you.

You felt him press a warm kiss to your forehead, his hand then moving to cup the nape of your neck and angle your face up. He leaned down, gently pressing his lips against yours, the feeling of your lips connecting sending shivers down your spine.

His hands slid down to your waist, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles as he pulled you closer. His cold nose brushed against yours as he met your lips in a deep, sluggish, sloppy kiss. Each gentle nip and pull sent warmth throughout your body, and his soft rhythm made you melt into him. Just as you began to lose yourself in the kiss, he pulled back slightly, "Alright, let's do this," he said against your lips. "But you better keep me entertained, or I'm pulling the 'famous quarterback' card,".

"Interesting words coming from the same guy who hates unnecessary attention," you said while raising an eyebrow, stepping back from Joe's embrace to straighten out your outfit.

"Hey, it's my get-out-of-jail-free card," he retorted. "If they start laughing or I get bored, I'll remind everyone that I'm a professional athlete. That'll get them to one, stop laughing because I'll say 'excuse me, ma'am, but do you really want to laugh at Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals' golden boy?' and two, entertain my football star side for a few short seconds before I get irritated by the camera flashes," he said while striking a mock pose, puffing out his chest and flexing his arms dramatically.

"Ohhh yeah," you giggled, "Because nothing screams 'intimidating' like a guy in a stitch onesie flexing his muscles,".

“Exactly, babe,” he replied, laughing along with you. “I mean, who wouldn’t want a picture with the cuddly, buff quarterback? Just look at me, who could say no?” He glanced down at his plush costume, pretending to look serious.

"Careful, Joey B. You might even start a trend," you said while raising your hands. "The soft, cuddly, buff quarterback. It could be your new brand,".

"I can get behind that," he cutely nodded. "Maybe I'll wear this at the press conference next week," he chucked, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you both to the front door.

"Ohhh, I would love to see the reactions from the guys and the media if you pulled up like this," you smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"I would never hear the end of it. The guys still give me shit for the hickey I walked in with the day after my birthday last year," he sighed.

"I'm still not sorry for that," you shrugged. "Gotta let everyone know that you're mine," you nodded as he opened the front door for you.

"No need to be sorry, babe. You made your mark on me, a golden tattoo. I can't hate on that," he smiled, helping you onto the front step while he followed and closed the door behind him.

A smirk rose on your face, "Good. Because if you do good tonight, maybe you'll get a few more golden tattoos," you quickly mumbled, hopping down the steps of your house.

"Wait, what?" Joe asked, raising his eyebrows at what he thinks he heard you say.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of maroon before you glanced back at him, "Ohhh, nothing," you smiled. "C'mon," you motioned for him to follow, "We have doors to knock on,".

-- -- --

"Okay, Joey. First house," you smiled, placing your hand around his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. You both were standing at the doorstep of a house that was a few streets down from yours, the decorations in the front yard caught your eye and you just knew this was the first place to start. There was an elaborate setup of skeletons cobwebs, and glowing pumpkins that lit up the yard with a spooky charm.

Joe's eyes darted from the decorations to the door, and you could feel the tension in his muscles under your hand. "Had to pick the spookiest house first, didn't you?" he murmured, glancing down at you with a hint of hesitation.

"You got this, babe," you nudged playfully, leaning over to kiss his cheek as you doubled down on your confidence in him.

He took a deep breath, straightening his posture as his brows furrowed in determination. "Okay, here goes," he breathed out, lifting his hand, pausing for a second as he shot you one last look--almost making sure you were still with him--before he finally pressed the doorbell. There was nothing to be scared or shy of. You were right there with him, he had no reason to hide behind someone because he had his safety blanket right next to him. His sweetheart, his lovely girlfriend, his Y/N.

A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman, her face lighting up as her eyes fell on you both. But when her eyes landed on Joe, standing there in a stitch onesie, she let out a surprised laugh.

He nervously cleared his throat before saying, "Trick or treat!" his voice was steady but laced with a bit of shyness that only you could catch.

"Oh, my goodness!" she bounced with excitement. "I never thought I'd see the day! Joe Burrow? Trick or Treating on my porch! And in such an adorable costume?" she cooed.

You couldn’t help the proud grin that spread across your face as you squeezed his arm again, leaning in to whisper, "See? You’re already a hit,".

"She's not wrong! This costume is perfect for you," the lady nodded. "You two look so adorable!".

Joe laughed, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, well...I have my Halloween coach to thank for that," he said, nodding at you with an appreciative smile.

"You give me too much credit," you giggled. "Not everyone can pull off a stitch onesie at 27 years old,".

He looked down at you again, his lips curved into a soft smile. But then he noticed your gaze shift down to his bag, which was still closed tight in his hand. You gave him a playful look, raising an eyebrow as if you were saying, "C'mon, Joey. Open it up,".

He realized what you meant with your stare, "Oh," he mumbled, quickly tugging the bag open and holding it out just like a kid who finally got the Halloween memo.

He watched as the woman dug her hand deep into the bowl of candy and placed a generous handful inside his spooky, SpongeBob-themed candy bag. Joe looked down at it with a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face, clearly not used to this happening to him. You couldn't help but melt at how surreal it must have felt for him--27-year-old Joe Burrow, the star QB, standing on a stranger's doorstep with a trick-or-treat bag in hand, experiencing the magic of Halloween the right way for the first time.

"Happy Halloween!" she chirped, giving him a little wink before turning to you and adding, "And you two make the cutest couple! Who Dey!".

Joe's ears turned a light shade of pink as he mumbled a polite, "Thank You,", trying to hide his emotions as best he could. That wasn't as bad as he thought it was, that was actually...fun? There were no awkward words exchanged between him and the stranger, no intimidating vibes, just sweet candy and even sweeter words.

And he had gotten a huge, seemingly above-normal fistful of candy too? Talk about Quarterback perks...

"What is this?" he thought, confused by what just happened as his hand instinctively gripped yours while you waved goodbye and walked away from the house.

You couldn't help your smile from growing wider when you both were back on the sidewalk. "He did it. He really did it," you thought to yourself, your heart swelling in return. "He did it for me,".

You stopped him in his tracks and turned to face him. "What's wrong?" he asked, confused at why you suddenly stopped him and at your wide-eyed look.

A squeal left your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and jumped into him. "You did ittttt!" you cheered, pressing about a dozen kisses to his soft, rosy cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Joe!".

Joe's face softened, a smile creeping up as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. "You're really that proud of me?" he asked, amused and bashful.

"Are you joking?" you beamed, pulling back just enough to look at him through both your stitch hoods. "You faced your Halloween fears for me. That's huge, Joe,".

"Yeah...I guess I did," he tilted his head and replied, sounding a little surprised himself.

"Ahhhh," you squealed again as you went back into the bear hug you were giving him. "This is so exciting for me, you have no clue,".

He laughed, "Oh, I think I have some idea. You've been on me for doing this for yeaaars. I'm glad you never gave up, though,".

"I'll never give up when it comes to you," you smiled before leaning up and capturing his lips in a warm kiss. "Ooo," you said as you quickly pulled away, "What candy did you get?" you asked as you felt the presence of his candy bag below you

Joe chuckled softly, still relishing in the warmth of your quick kiss. “Let’s see,” he said, searching through his candy bag with exaggerated seriousness as if it were a treasure chest. “Looks like I’ve got some Snickers, a few Reese’s, and--,” he paused for dramatic effect, pulling out a tiny packet, “Starburst!”.

Joe and his Starbursts. An inseparable duo.

"Ohh, here we go," you laughed, watching as he dropped his bag on the ground and quickly started ripping open the packet to see what flavors he got.

A gasp left his lips, "Orange! Y/N, I got double orange!" he smiled, his voice so light and playful because he had just got his favorite flavor. He was legit a kid right now in every way possible, from the costume to the smile, and to the air around him.

"Joe, it's just orange," you teased, smiling wide as you enjoyed this playful side to him.

He shot you a glare, "Just orange? This is the best damn flavor," he said, tossing a piece into his mouth with a proud grin. "I know you love pink, but that is not orange. You're missing out," he said while pointing at you as if he was giving you a lecture.

"Maybe we can do a flavor swap later?" you winked, your suggestive comment earning a grin from him.

"Deal," he chuckled as he picked up his bag again to see what else he got.

You watched as he searched through the candies, an adorable grin on his face, crinkles around his eyes, and a shimmer in his baby blues. Joe was so happy, so smiley, and this was just the first house out of many. You could only imagine how he would be by the end of the night. "Let's keep going," he smiled, a feeling of excitement starting to bubble underneath his skin.

You let him lead you, warmth filling your chest as he glanced back at you, his excitement spreading through his fingertips and straight into your body. Joe’s hand squeezed yours, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how he practically skipped down the sidewalk. His usual calm, collected self had completely melted away, replaced by a boyish joy that made your heart swell.

When you reached the next house, he gave you a playful look. "Alright, what do you think this one’s giving out? Full-size? Think we’ll get lucky?".

You shrugged, playing along, “Only one way to find out. Go on, brave QB. Knock and conquer,".

"You don't want to come up with me?" he asked with a playful pout.

You smiled, "You're a big boy, QB1. You've got this".

"Alright, alright. But if I get nervous, you'll be my backup, right?" he asked, glancing back at the house. He wasn't having a hard time talking to strangers this time around, which was different than when he was a kid. Normally, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on what made him break a childhood habit, but this time it was easy for him to know because of the feeling he had in his heart.

It was because of you.

Being with you calmed Joe in a way that nothing else could. Your calm presence was like the first, refreshing sip of ice water after a brutal run on a hot day. As you stood by his side tonight, he felt your cool confidence seep into him, melting away any of his nerves.

With you there, he found himself speaking more easily, making small talk without hesitation, and even standing on doorsteps without any fear. You had a remarkable effect on Joe, and he knew damn well without you, he wouldn't be able to do a lot of things, including this.

"Forever and Always," you promised, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

He straightened up, took a breath, and headed up the path on his own, a new confidence in his stride. Watching him, you couldn’t help but smile. He was loosening up, bit by bit, and you felt a thrill at the thought that he might actually be enjoying himself.

Joe knocked on the door, a bit of uncertainty clear via his body language. But when the door opened, he gave a smile so genuine that even the older couple answering couldn’t help but smile back, dropping another handful of treats into his bag as they made small talk with him.

You quickly pulled out your phone to record the sweet moment, wanting to capture Joe looking absolutely adorable and actively enjoying himself on Halloween in case someone doubted you when you told them. You had gotten him to soften up, and that was making this the best Halloween ever. You wanted to capture the memory and keep it forever.

As he headed down the steps, he looked at you with a glowing face. “You know what? I kinda get why you love this now. It’s just...fun,”.

You let out a dramatic gasp as he inched towards you, "Joe Burrow? Saying Halloween is fun? Oh my god? Have the aliens finally made landfall on Earth?".

"Very funny, Y/N," he playfully rolled his eyes.

"What'd you score this time?" you said while looping your arm with his.

"Full-sized, baby," he said in mock triumph. "Snickers, a big bag of Sour-Patch, and even another Starburst packet,". The glimmer in his eyes was undeniable, he was genuinely enjoying himself and the smile on his face was only growing wider. There were no complaints from him, no signs of anxiety, just pure enjoyment. "They even said I looked cute in this and said I've been playing like the MVP recently," he blushed.

"Aw, that's sweet," you replied, squeezing his hand as you continued walking down the street, seeing all the little kids in their adorable costumes wandering the roads. You even think you saw a kid dressed up as Joe, football jersey and all.

He let go of your hand so that he could put his arm around your waist, "They even said something about you," he winked.

"Oh? What'd they say?" you asked, snaking your arm around his waist.

"That I struck gold with youuuu," he teased, bumping his head with yours. "They go to a bunch of games and have seats by our sidelines and see you and me before every game doing our little handshake and watching you give me that pre-game pep talk. They said that the way I look at you, and only you, during that time is only something that comes around every few lifetimes,".

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Wait, seriously? People notice that?".

They weren't wrong there, though. The way Joe looked at you during his sideline time was something that was so special, so rare. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders at that time, but all that vanished once his eyes locked in on yours. You were his comfort, his calm within the storm. Whether that's on the field, or even right now as you two were partaking in Halloween festivities that he was normally against. You made it all better with your smile, with your reassuring words, with your gentle touch. He adored you.

Joe chuckled, nodding, "Yeah, apparently it's their favorite part of the game. They said, 'Man, if that's not love, I don't know what is',". He pulled you a little closer, "Guess I struck gold,".

Your heart exploded as you nestled closer to him, "Well, they're not wrong," you mumbled. "But, I think I'm the lucky one because I get to watch you light up the field like you do,".

Joe leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your head, his voice warm as he murmured, “Guess we're both pretty lucky. But I'm definitely the luckier one because I have the most dedicated, relentless--in the best way--adorable, thoughtful, beautiful, and insanely hot woman by my side,".

His words were tender, each one a gentle caress that wrapped around your heart. They held a deep meaning that made you feel adored in a way only he could make you feel. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with love, a smile tugging at your lips. "You know, you make it really hard not to fall for you all over again," you whispered, your voice catching as you reached up to trace your fingers along his jawline.

"Baby, I fall for you all over again every single morning I wake up to your beautiful face," he said, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "And I love you a million times more. Thank you for taking me out tonight even though I was being a whiny ass. I'm realizing what I've been missing out on," he said, looking across the street to where a little boy was calling his name, giving him a wave and smile in return. "And I'm definitely realizing it's a lot more fun with you, by my side".

"Well, I'm having the best Halloween ever if that means anything," you smiled, watching as he waved to the little kids who were starting to notice that they were trick-or-treating with Joe Burrow.

Joe pulled you even closer before planting a quick kiss on your forehead again, "Me too, and it's all thanks to you,".

Joe saw that satisfied grin on your face and felt his heart swell. You were happy. Knowing that he had a part in that made him feel like he was on Cloud 9. "I think I like seeing you like this more than I like watching the other team go 3 and out during a game," he said with a silly grin.

"You're just saying that just to say it," you shook your head as you two strolled down the sidewalk.

"Nope. I'd wear this every Halloween if it meant I could see you smile like this. You look like you're about to explode from excitement," he laughed.

"Well, I think I might. My mission was accomplished. You're enjoying Halloween," you said while letting go of him, moving so that you two were face to face. You grabbed his hand and started to walk backward down the sidewalk, leading him along with you. "We're healing your inner child, one 'trick or treat' at a time,".

"You know, you might be right?" he shook his head in disbelief. "Just don't tell my mom because I think she'll actually freak if we tell her you got me to trick or treat since she tried soooo hard when I was little to get me out here,".

You let out a loud laugh, "It'll be our secret,".

"Good, because I wouldn't do this for anyone else. Just you," he said, giving you a heated look, his icy eyes sending shivers down your spine. The playfulness in his voice was replaced with heat, and you weren't sure what made him do such a 360 all of a sudden.

"Woahhh, slow down with those bedroom eyes. We still have a few more houses to hit up," you giggled.

"Sorry," he shook his head, snapping out of his daze. "I just remembered how easy it is to take a onesie off and got excited,".

"Like I said, you're always DTF," you smiled, turning back around and pulling him down the sidewalk with you.

"Only for you though," he smiled, innocently tapping your ass which caused a gasp to leave your lips.

"Joseph Lee! There are children around!" you shrieked, looking back at him with wide eyes as your cheeks flushed with surprise and embarrassment.

"What? It was just a little tap," he shrugged. "Besides, we're allowed to have some fun, right? It is Halloween,".

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" you said, trying to hide your laughter.

"But you love it," he said, leaning closer as he winked at you, his confidence shining through. "And I think the kids are too focused on their candy to notice what I'm doing,".

You looked around, watching as the kids ran past you both with their candy hauls in hand, realizing he was right. "Okay, but still. You better keep your hands to yourself unless you want the whole neighborhood to see your stitch onesie getting stripped off,".

"Relaaax, baby. It won't happen again, at least not until we're somewhere a little more...private," he said, tapping your ass again but before you could say something, he ran in front of you to escape your anger.

"Oh hell no," you shook your head, watching as he ran backward, his tongue sticking out at you in mockery as he sported a cocky grin.

"Catch me if you can!" he yelled, his laughter echoing as he picked up speed.

"He's such a kid," you whispered to yourself, "You're going to regret that!" you shouted back, your competitive spirit breaking free as you took off after him.

He really was a full-blown kid tonight, and it was all thanks to you. You got him to loosen up, to laugh a little harder, and to enjoy something he had grown to hate. Each doorbell you rang seemed to chip away at the walls he had built around Halloween, and the joy in his eyes was heartwarming.

You ran down the sidewalk, chasing after him as best as you could, but Joe being the sneaky athletic man he is, was just too fast for your pace. "He chooses the wrong time to show that he has wheels," you thought to yourself. Before you knew it, he had led you down a dark backroad and was nowhere in sight. You were far from your familiar neighborhood streets, the spooky decorations and orange lights now a blur in the background as you were now standing on an eerily quiet street. The shadowy road sent a shiver down your arm, "Joe?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet environment.

You got no response.

You bit your lip, gripping your bag a little tighter as you stay alert, turning your head to check if he was near you. "Joe? This isn't funny! I swear to God," you said, swallowing hard. The usual sounds of forest critters were oddly silent, providing no comfort to you at the moment.

"Did he even come down here? Maybe I wasn't paying too much attention to which way he went," you muttered to yourself, slowly beginning to walk up the road and back to where you came from. "But then where did he go?".

"Joe? I'm serious," you yelled out again, your voice laced with frustration and nervousness. This was the exact kind of thing he would do to spook you, so maybe that's what he was doing.

Before you could call out again, you heard a faint sound--like a crunch of leaves under a foot.

You didn't turn around to see what it was, instead, you stopped walking and froze, your bottom lip starting to tremble as fear crept into your mind.

There was nothing down here. And by nothing, you mean nothing. Not a single house, not a single car, and not a single soul. Just trees, a road, and a distant view of your neighborhood.

So who was behind you?

You didn't want to turn around to see who it was out of fear. It could be Joe, but it also could be some psycho in a ghost mask with a knife, waiting to stab you to death. "Oh shut up, Y/N. Scream is a movie. A MOVIE." you lectured yourself, mentally slapping yourself for sounding like Joe.

You shook your head to push away the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. You quickened your pace as you walked towards the familiar shapes of the neighborhood. Each hasty step made your heart pound louder in your chest, drowning out your breath. Behind you, the sounds grew louder as you heard the rustling leaves and the faint crunch of footsteps on gravel--each noise sent a rush of anxiety through you.

"Absolutely not. I'm not dying before I witness a Bengals Super Bowl win," you mumbled to yourself before you reached up to pull your hood down, then kicked back and started bolting up the road.

"Come on, come on," you muttered, your breath hitching as you heard the distance between you and whatever was behind you shrink.

But then, your heart stopped as two strong hands gripped your waist and pulled you back, your back bumping into something solid and hard. "AHHHH!" you shrieked. "Please don't kill me! I swear, I didn't do any- anything," you screamed while feeling tears in your eyes.

And then you heard it, a laugh. Deep, unmistakable, and...familiar.

"Scared you, didn't I?" Joe rasped in your ear, his arms tightening around your waist.

Your heart was still pounding from the rush, "Joe!" you shouted, giving him a halfhearted shove and releasing yourself from his arms. "That wasn't funny! I thought you were some...masked psycho about to murder me,".

He reached out, placing his hands on your shoulders while stabling himself, "And this- And this is why you shouldn't watch Scream," he panted, catching his breath, the laughter still lingering in his eyes.

"Fuck you," you panted, coming from a place of playfulness and fun.

Joe's hands slid down to your waist, pulling you into him with one swift movement, "Aww, was my baby scared?" he pouted.

You stared into his eyes with irritation, "Yes." you muttered without hesitation.

"Aw, I'm sorry," he smiled, pushing your head into his chest as he swayed you back and forth, "But at least now we know how you'd last in a horror movie,".

You rolled your eyes before breaking out in a grin--you just couldn't help yourself, "Who knew Joey B was final girl material? I mean, look at those wheels," you teased.

"Damn right," he chuckled, then leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. "I think you need to learn a few things from me. No way you should be that slow when your boyfriend is Joey Wheels,".

You let out an offended scoff before lightly slapping his chest, "I'm not that slow," you said.

"Mhmmm," he hummed, "Whatever helps you sleep at night,".

You shook your head before going back to his chest, "You're having one good Halloween and think you're the shit now, aren't you?".

"Precisely," he nodded, "But that's all you're doing, baby. You asked for this," he chuckled.

He did it to make you happy, which worked. And you did it to make him happy, which also worked. You two made amazing memories tonight, carefully uninstalling the bitter ones from his childhood and replacing them with happier ones. You loved to see him happy and carefree like this, you never wanted that smile to come off his face.

"Well, you scaring me is a good thing I guess. You're not the one scared anymore, I am," you smiled up at him. "Healing your inner child, one step at a time,".

-- -- --

A few hours later -- back at the house

"I didn't think that would be so fun," Joe said as he rummaged through his candy collection on the bed while you were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. "You seriously have me questioning why I ever dreaded Halloween,".

You laughed from inside the bathroom, "It's because you didn't have me around to show you the ropes. I told you I'd change your mind!" you shouted just loud enough for him to hear you.

"My miracle worker," he chuckled, opening up a Snickers bar and taking a bite of the chocolatey treat.

Back in the bathroom, you were currently standing in front of the mirror, looking at the red, lacy lingerie that you had slipped on under your onesie before you left earlier. You knew that even though he'd complain about it, Joe would come through and make your wish come true. And in return, he deserved a treat when you both got back and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated him loosening up for you on a night that had never been his favorite.

He thought you were just in here, doing your skincare and slipping into your PJs, but instead, you were getting ready to give him the real treat he deserved. "He's going to love this," you smirked, pulling one of his old LSU shirts over your body along with your sleep shorts.

You grabbed one of Joe's favorite perfumes of yours, giving it a few spritzes around your body, before fluffing your hair, turning out the lights, and leaving the bathroom.

"Babe, you gotta try these watermelon sour patch kids," Joe said as he dug through the tiny packet and popped a few into his mouth.

You smiled at the sight before you--Joe sprawled out on the bed in just his boxers, looking effortlessly irresistible. His disheveled hair and relaxed posture were a stark contrast to the playful, innocent stitch he’d been just a few hours ago. It was like seeing two sides of him in one night, each one captivating in its own way.

"Insane duality as usual," you murmured, barely containing a grin as you took him in.

Once he heard you close the bathroom door, Joe's gaze tracked your every step as you walked back into the room, his eyes sparking with curiosity. He picked up on a subtle shift in your energy, the way your confidence was shining brighter than usual, making his smirk grow. He threw his half-finished candy onto the nightstand, leaning back against the soft headboard with his hands behind his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Hi," he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You gave him a slow once over, taking note of every vein, every curve of his muscles, and especially that happy trail that led to one of your favorite things in the world. ""Hi," you said, giving him a devilish grin, your tone laced with heat. "Enjoy your candy?" you teased.

"Yeaahhh...," he trailed off, "You alright?" he asked a few seconds later once you stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, I'm more than alright," you thought to yourself, clearing your throat and standing up straight. "Trick or Treat?" you smirked at him.

Joe raised an eyebrow at your question, especially because he could tell it was coming from a place of mischief. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me," you bit your lip and said. "Trick or Treat?".

Joe raised an eyebrow at your tone--it was light, a little heated, and incredibly playful. Was this going where he thought it was? "I think I’m going with treat,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he slowly leaned forward. “But I’m curious…just what kind of treat am I in for?”

"Hmmm, you know," you said while gazing deeply into his starry eyes, "The hot kind. The messy kind. The sexy kind,".

And as if on cue, you reached for the bottom of your shirt, quickly pulling the fabric up and over your head before throwing it at Joe's face, his eyes widening once he got a glimpse at the lacy red bra that covered the part of your body that Joe was insanely obsessed with. "Y/N..." he murmured, his heart skipping a beat once he saw you turn around so your back was facing him, your hair moving to the front which gave him the perfect view of the thin lace straps.

You pulled your shorts down, bending over so you could reach down to get them out of your feet and to also give Joe a generous view of your lace-covered ass.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, the tent in his boxers growing at the sight of your toned, lace-covered body.

You flipped back around, watching as his hand absentmindedly inched closer to his erection, shifting it to feel momentary relief because of the way you were torturing him right now. You flashed him a playful grin before kneeling on the bed, your fingernails running up against his leg as you moved closer and closer to his torso.

"Baby, I-," he choked out as he felt your hand graze over his shaft.

"Shh, it's okay. Just lay back and relax. You earned this for doing good tonight. You did it for me, to see me happy, to see me smile. You had fun tonight and you did something out of your comfort zone, all for me. You deserve a treat for being so good to me, baby," you nodded, both your bodies now filled with heat and desire, the need to feel each other overpowering any other emotion.

You leaned down, your lips coming into contact with the fabric of his boxers as you pressed gentle kisses around his upper thighs. Joe tossed his head back at the sudden contact, and as your lips inched closer to his shaft, his body jerked while a string of sounds fell from his lips. "B- Baby, stop teasing," he mumbled, his hand stuffed into your hair as he lightly pulled on the strands. "I need y- you,".

You smirked at his faltering cockiness, then trailed your kisses up his body, following his happy trail. Your tongue glided along the curvature of each of his semi-visible abs, up to his pecs, and then to his neck.

You had shifted so that you were now comfortably seated in his lap, and Joe's hands were firmly placed on each side of your waist, slowly moving your hips back and forth against his shaft to feel relief.

You attached your lips to his neck, your goal was to leave as many golden tattoos as you could. "Mm, Y/N," he whimpered in your ear as he felt you suck harder on his favorite spot. "So good for me, baby," he sighed, his self-control being very close to being thrown out the window.

"I know," you smirked, moving to another spot on his neck to repeat the action. Your hand placed on his jaw as you moved his face to the side. Your tongue glided over the marks you left on his neck, a hiss coming from his lips at the slight burning sensation.

As the minutes passed by and you continued to tease him with your lips, he was getting more and more restless. And you could feel it. "Baby, please. I need to..I need to feel you around me," he whimpered again, pulling you out of his neck and meeting your firey eyes.

"Your wish is my command," you said, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss as you sat up on your knees, allowing him to pull down his boxers, his cock coming free and grazing against your thigh.

You leaned down to shift your lacy panties to the side, your wetness seeping through and dripping down onto Joe's lap, a throaty chuckle leaving his lips. "Even when you try to be in control, I still have you like this," he mumbled between the kiss as you grabbed his erection, using your thumb to spread the pre-cum along his slit before sliding it between your slick folds.

"We'll see," you smirked, sinking straight down onto his hard cock, a moan leaving his lips at the sudden contact.

"Y/N...," he moaned, his hands shifting down to grab your ass with a firm grip.

You placed your hands on his shoulders as you slid up and down his cock, your pace frantic and needy which matched the feeling you both shared in the moment. His head falls forward to rest on your shoulder, your hand inching into his hair as you pull him closer. His groans got louder, each one sending a jolt of pleasure throughout your body. "Yeah, you like that?" you whispered in his ear as you felt him buck into your core.

"Fuck, yeah," he moaned, his hands moving to grip your waist, the pads of his fingers digging deep into your skin. "Just like that, yeah,"

A shock of pleasure ripped through your veins, "You feel so good, Joey, sound so pretty for me," you moaned, feeling his tip hit your sweet spot as you leaned into him, his fully arms wrapping around your torso to steady you.

"My girl, you're doing so good, Y/N. I love...I love fucking you," he whimpered, his hips starting to snap up into yours in a way that drove you crazy. Each push of his cock into your wet heat felt like you were being brought into a new world; so intense and lively.

"Joey, ah," you moaned. "You're so...you make me feel so good," you moaned, feeling the way he gripped your hips and guided you back and forth on his cock.

You felt his hand inch up your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your lingerie top and undoing it in one easy motion. He quickly pulled the straps down, throwing the lacy piece across the room before attaching his lips to the skin of your breasts. "Oh," you whimpered, leaning back to give him enough room to work his magic on you.

"See?" he panted as he nipped at your skin. "This was for me, b- but, ah," he moaned once he felt you clench around him for a second, "I still have you like this,".

"You'll always have me like this, Joe," you whimpered, your legs starting to burn because of your movements. You threaded your fingers into his hair again, pulling him out of your chest and up to your lips, "Fuck, baby," you whined before he crashed his lips onto yours, his hips snapping up into yours even harder than before.

You picked up your movements as both your moans got louder and louder, the room now filled with sounds of skin hitting skin and your breathless whimpers. "Joe, I..I'm so close, mmph, fuck," you whined, dropping your head onto his chest as you slid up and down his shaft, your core starting to clench his cock more frequently.

"Shit, me too," he choked out, his breath hitting your ear as he melted into you with each rock of your hips and thrust of his thick cock. "I'm gonna cum, fuck...Y/N, I-," he said, getting quieter as he leaned into you more, his cock starting to twitch as he repeatedly slammed into your sweet spot.

You felt your eyes start to roll back, both your bodies moving at an uneven pace, "Cum for me, Joey. You did so good tonight, let it go," you whimpered in his ear.

"Oh, fuck," he hissed, "'Fuck, fuck. I f- forgot a condom, baby. W- where-,".

"In me," you moaned. "Cum in me, it's okay," you whined, your bundle of nerves begging for release as you felt Joe's cock thrust into your core with an intensity he could only display in front of you.

"Y/N," he whimpered, his cock stilling inside you after one final, rough thrust that caused your legs to shake. "Ahh, fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back against the headrest as his warm release filled your dripping core, the feeling of him filling you was something he could never get over. It made him feel so damn good, and you just loved to feel him inside you, any way shape, and form.

"Oh, fuck," you screamed, gripping his shoulders again as you guided yourself along his cock, "I- I'm-,".

"I've got you," he moaned, opening his eyes and briefly staring at the ceiling before looking back down at you and the way your lip was between your teeth, your eyes were screwed shut, and how your hair was sticking to your skin from the thin layer of sweat on your body.

He moved his hand down to your slick entrance, his thumb finding your clit, and all it took was a few seconds for you to come crashing down on his body. The expert movement of his skillful hands wasn't just useful on the football field. Hell, they might have been best used on you and not on the ball he throws every day. "Joe!" you screamed, falling into his chest as your core rhythmically clenched around his shaft, a wave of pleasure crashing over you while you felt your release drip onto his lap.

"God, I'm fucking obsessed with you," he mumbled as he peppered kisses around your neck, up your jaw, and to your mouth as you chanted his name over and over.

A few seconds later, you caught your breath, "Holy shit," you panted, your legs still shaking from your high as your body fell limp against his. "Fuck, that was...,".

He chuckled lowly, "Hot? Intense? Sweet?" his voice raspy in your ear as his hand slid up and down your back, tracing invisible shapes into your skin.

"Precisely," you giggled, pressing a kiss to his muscular chest. "Happy Halloween, babe. Hope you enjoyed your treat,".

He tilted your chin up, catching your gaze with that soft, unguarded look that always melted you. “Happy Halloween, baby. Thanks for tonight,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close again. As you snuggled against him, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek. His hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "You gave me the treat of a lifetime tonight. In more ways than just one," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I’ll never forget it,".

"I love you," you mumbled.

"I love you too," he smiled, dropping another kiss on your forehead before getting lost in your warmth.

"You know...since you're pretty comfortable with Halloween now...next year, we should throw our own Halloween Party at the house for everyone," you smiled against his chest.

Joe snapped his eyes open, "Woahh, baby steps," he laughed.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing just how far you'd come in the quest to make Mr. Anti-Halloween, Mr. Pro-Halloween. "Alright, alright," you teased, giving his chest a playful tap, "But we'll see what the future holds. Maybe you'll be the one planning it next year,".

His laughter vibrated through his chest, and he tightened his arms around you, his smile so soft and content. "You’ve already got me wrapped around your finger. I’ll do whatever you want, baby" he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Good," you beamed. "I've already got your costume for next year in mind,".

"And what is it?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

You bit your lip and hid your face in his chest again before saying, "I know you said for our eyes only...but...I wanna see you in it as many times as I can,".

"Nope," he shook his head, already knowing what you were going to say. "No way in hell,".

"Yessss," you giggled while patting his chest. "You'd look so fucking sexy, I think every girl in Ohio would drop to their knees,".

Joe playfully rolled his eyes, "You know what? Fine. I'll wear the Joker costume, but only on one condition," he said.

"Okay, I'm listening," you nodded, your excitement bubbling beneath your skin already.

He smirked as he leaned down to level his mouth with your ear, "We repeat what we just did, right now," he rasped. "Right now, maybe again tomorrow night, and after we do the whole 'our eyes only' thing, and maybe make it a Halloween tradition and do this all over again next year,".

You gently leaned up, pressing your lips to his before saying, "Deal, Joker," then feeling his hands wrap around your hips and flip you over on the bed.

--the end--

[clitorphosis]

SPIT TO SEE THE SHINE

Vendetta Leon S. Kennedy x reader |18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON, smut, age gap (reader is in 20s, Leon is 37) female reader, abusive relationship, implied alcoholism, stockholm syndrome, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of ‘daddy’ (not a lot), implied erectile disfunction lmao, victim blaming, fingering, implied physical and sexual violence, forced breeding.

Summary: life gets lonelier after 30s, the realization hits harder Leon and the way to cope with it is to get his hands on alcohol… too bad booze tends to encourage him to not be a good man - ending up with a younger girl in his apartment. Maybe it is a grave mistake, but Leon is just a man and who doesn’t make them? notes: uhm, this may be a lil bit self indulgent, sorry for that :3 I DONT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE!!! reblogs, asks and any kind of feedback or interaction are really appreciated! :3

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Mama has told you not to trust strangers, the concern was referred to the men, but your ears have never held her words for a time longer than a day. Nor did you remember her words when an attractive, older man noticed you and was nice enough to ask you out. That night was supposed to be a little date, giddy and happy jumping into the front seat of his car. That’s the last thing you remember. Eventually, you can not fathom how this happened - the day later your head hurt as you were forced to swallow the hard pill: you got kidnapped by your date.

The first month was insufferable and painful, slowly growing out of your ‘rebellious attitude’ and memorizing his body language like a child in an abusive household. His gaze is everywhere, keeping you locked up in the room when he is not present, a reminder to you that there is no free choice. The food, clothes, and your free time were defined by Leon’s mood and taste which… Liked to swing, creating a mess for you both, not knowing if he was genuinely ashamed of what he had done. You hated him, dreaming about the day when his throat would be sliced, painting your hands with red just to breathe in the air of freedom.

Mama knows best. No, Leon knows best.

Sometimes Leon is mean, without hesitation, sharp words can be thrown at you when he is drunk. Blaming his misery on you. Trying not to be affected by them, not enough to avoid some of them as they cling to your mind - circling as a reminder.

“You deserve this, what did you think a man would want from a woman?”,

“you are better dead”,

“you asked for this”. Did you actually?

Sometimes he is the nicest guy around here. Showering you with tenderness and care, trying to have a normal conversation, but not daring to look into your eyes. Ashamed probably, which was bittersweet and pleasant, but confusing too. Like a couple. You promised yourself to not change the way you feel about him, even if he is sweet. Not like you have a lot of options now.

Certainly, Stockholm syndrome wasn’t going to avoid you, it didn’t take long either. You aren’t special and Leon looked so lonely, returning after work mostly devastated. The expression someone would have had while grieving over something not obtainable. Not even daring to look into your face, ignoring you until his hands do not reach the booze - drinking himself until his mood changes to a handsy one. Physical or sexual. Sometimes both. And Leon is lonely, he told it himself once. Naturally or not, anger has changed to pity, while hate is mixed with something affectionate towards him. You can’t help yourself.

As someone has said - from love to hatred is one step.

So the routine has become clear after a month of staying here, sitting on the floor and watching TV while Leon is behind you. Big brother is watching you - no, Leon is watching you. Drunk or not, monitoring whatever is on the screen is appropriate in his eyes. Not for too long you were concentrating on the blue gleam coming from the screen, illuminating both frames in the living room, now like a natural thing for you both - his fingers end up in your panties to rub your clit in slow and lazy circles. His chest is pressing against your back, focused on your expressions and squirming. His calloused fingertips press harder against your sensitive clit, to hear your voice. Your body is the biggest enemy here - like a Pavlovian dog, reacting to his touch quickly and eagerly. The skin of his fingers is wet and soaked with your slick already, in no time, filling the room with squelching and wet sounds as your moans become harder to keep to yourself. Writhing and trying to shift away, but your body tends to become immobile most of the time - there is no fight or flight, just freeze.

“You look so miserable. It is reassuring, so cute too” In misery, together. His tone is the one someone would use for a dog. Always using that one with you, but you are not a dog. Not like you have any other choices right now, other than taking like a good girl and not lamenting.

If someone would have asked you, Leon is shameless with you, not the one to be shy after a bottle of whiskey, even if he can’t get it up sometimes. His fingers nudge your soaked hole, which aches for his attention. It clenches around nothing, pathetically and you disappointedly whine at the emptiness inside you.

“Come on, open your legs, be a nice girl for Daddy�� Leon cooed. His lips brush over your ear, not giving you a chance to do this by yourself - forcing your legs roughly to part wider. “So much better now”

Your hips shift, arching your back as his two fingers intrude into your pussy, curling sweetly inside it to push them at your favorite sweet spot - to enforce more moans at every jolt of pleasure hitting your body. Leon likes that, watching you squirm and open your mouth like a fish desperate for air cause of him. His grip on your jaw is tight, painful even - there are going to be bruises tomorrow and he will be apologizing like a madman.

“Daddy has been so miserable these days too, fucking Redfield is always hassling me.” You don’t know who is that. The sound of his hand fumbling with his belt and the fly of his jeans reach your ears, a loud noise of them falling on the floor. “Can’t even have a vacation, what would you do without me, baby?”

“Ughh…!” you choke on your moans. There is no thought behind your eyes, your entire attention is on your pleasure. Feeling overwhelmed at every thrust of his fingers, writhing in his hold while he is roughly pumping into your drenched hole, an uncomfortable wetness clings to your inner thighs - begging to fuck you already.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, sweetheart, but you are so wet. I can’t. Just the tip, okay? Sorry,” he groans breathlessly, giving hot and quick kisses on the side of your head. Sweet touch. His gaze darkens and his body presses harder against yours, feeling his erection press against your ass. “just… this hole is dripping, and you don’t look like you don’t want it”

You are so close actually, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, curling, and keeping the quick pace of his fingers make you almost drool while focusing on approaching orgasm. Too bad that isn’t on his to-do list. As much as he wants to see you cum, on his fingers or not, - his own pleasure is much more important, especially when his dick is hard. Whiskey dick isn’t so easy to get up these days. His fingers roughly withdraw from your soaked hole with a squelching pop, denying your orgasm. The emptiness returns and your sensitive pussy clenched around nothing again - aching to be filled again.

“So messy,” Leon mutters out, shoving his index and middle fingers in your mouth - forcing you to clean them, your tongue rolls and wraps around them, tasting yourself before he finally pulls them away. “asking for bad things to happen”

You can swear to God this made your clit throb. Wetter than you can ever be, or you are hallucinating, hoping this isn’t the case. Thoughts are quickly brushed aside when his cock is pressed in between your pussy lips, bumping against your aching clit while he rubs himself against your soaked and needy cunt that coats his flesh in your slick, lubing his length in it before he pushed his cock into you - Leon is not really a patient man. Yeah, just the tip, of course. Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch with pleasant pain and letting it slide as he pushed in quick motion until his cock got buried deep inside you. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help but tightly clench around him, his chest is pressed against your back. Relishing how tight and warm is your pussy, the best and most calming feeling for Leon - to fill you with his cock for his own pleasure. Your hair gets tugged roughly, making your head roll back while Leon starts moving slowly. His cock drags against your walls, pulling out until only a tip remains inside.

“See? Only a tip” Leon mocks you, before slamming back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You whimper and squirm, but his hold on your hair is hard - the only way to keep you under his control. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies. “Your pussy just feels so good, weren’t you made for this, mmm?”

His movements stutter as his pace slowens when his blue eyes make eye contact with the TV. You didn’t really catch on what was happening until his hand tugged your hair, directing your half-lidded gaze to the point of his interest. The sight of your image on the news, big words on the red background: MISSING PERSON. The former shelf of yourself is staring at you both, smiling brightly - not knowing there is no future for you. The volume is turned off. In this household, it is common knowledge that Leon doesn’t let you watch the news, every time getting agitated and avoiding you even more, when sober, which doesn’t last long after that. The mood swing was quick, every time it was like a loud thunderstorm, his hips make another thrust - cock hits your cervix and forces out a loud moan, involuntarily, when Leon’s cockhead grinds against it.

“This is bullshit, you know?” He hisses into your ear, giving another rough thrust to make you gasp pathetically, as he presses your head against the TV screen. “no one is coming for you. Why? Cause you are forgettable, baby, no one needs you”

“S-stop, Leon” you mumble in between moans and trying to keep yourself aware of what is happening. “T-too much, p-please!”

Your body feels like it is on fire due to the mix of emotions he provokes, your cunt grips his cock tightly while aching for your denied orgasm from before. His hand gives a hard slap on your sensitive clit, making you arch and flinch. Your pussy flutters, gripping him tighter.

“Shhh, I am doing a favor here” he mutters, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at the news while his pounding grew more erratic, intensifying wet and flesh-hitting sounds. His voice is loud in your ears, muffling other sounds, overwhelming as his cock keeps making rough thrusts into you with every word - to punctuate them. “Keeping you here, taking care of useless you that can’t do anything right”

He buries himself deep again, pausing again to relish in the feeling of his cock filling you, while your wet walls engulf him nicely - like a drug, inviting him to stay there and never pull away. Slick drips down your thighs, and his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. His hand gives another light slap on your pussy, the tightness of your walls almost makes him cum.

“Maybe a baby, what do you think about it, mm?” The idea makes him throb, sliding in and out more erratically. As if he cares about your opinion right now, his fingers tug your hair harder, but his words make you flinch harder. Tears prick behind your eyelids.

“No-no-no. You can’t cum inside, no!” He is not wearing a condom. Bad, too bad. Begging comes out naturally for you now, in between your moans. Fear coats your voice, as the idea sets in quickly - being trapped here cause of an unfortunate kid. “Not the baby! Leon, please! I’ll be good, please!”

“Of course, I can. Shut up. You like this” Leon hisses, keeping your head in a firm hold, so your eyes are set on the old photo. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t stop yourself from making noises, shifting so Leon would hit a better angle. This somewhat combines with a shame, at every hint of it your mind shoves it away. “You can’t look at yourself, too bad. Dripping even more after my words, like a whore.“

Wanting to cum, focusing more on the pleasure of his dick filling your hole - feels so wrong, but good. Like your body shouldn’t enjoy how Leon’s hips keep pounding into your soaked cunt, hitting the pudgy spot and making you repeat his name like a prayer, but your own mind and body are the biggest enemy, betraying you. His own balls tighten, as a reminder of his so soon approaching orgasm.

“You love me right, baby?” Leon whispers, voice coming out breathy and brushing against your ear shell. His calloused fingers crawl back to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly and unsteadily. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock.

“I love you, Leon, o-oh!” you hum, nibbling on the lower lip and arching, letting more noises when his dick hits your sweet spot so sloppily and messy now, chasing his orgasm. And him circling your clit with his calloused fingertips makes your legs tremble - so close to tripping and falling flat on the floor. This makes your mind fuzzy, shoving away the fear of being pregnant. Leon is nice, right? Nice enough to push you against the cold screen of the TV, it doesn’t have its use anymore. That photo faded with the news, after all. “I love you, love you,”

Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched now. His eyes are set on your disheveled look, with light traces of tears as you repeat the confession erratically, filling his mind with them. Making this normal, you love him, so he can allow himself to not feel so guilty, right? With a final and rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, giving chaste and soft kisses to the back of your head. Your body shudders eventually too, your walls spasm harder around him as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you while keeping messy circles on your sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you more overwhelmed with every flick. The warm essence fills your hole, Leon pulls out his softening cock with a wet pop, watching how his sperm slowly oozes out from your pussy. His mind is light, the hint of booze keeps guilt from emerging.

Words of love don’t feel like a complete lie now, as pleasant memories overwhelm the bad ones. They become almost an empty spot in the back of your mind, leaving only a foggy feeling of hate and dread. And your brain is weak for the bliss, hammering every moment deep in you - craving for more. Hate won’t bring you out of this, maybe affection will. Your hand grips weakly his wrist, you won’t be able to bear the loneliness after sex tonight.

“Don’t leave me” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, not processing anything right now. Leon breaks out in a weak smile, but his gaze isn’t capable of keeping eye contact right now. Still, he scoops you in his arms without a second thought. Remaining silent, feeling your weak body in his hold he can’t help but pepper chaste kisses on your forehead. Trying to prolong the sweet and guiltless moment for you both.

You should have known better than to accept that date with him.

[kingkatsuki]

Old man Bakugou (who isn’t even that old, but god I want him)

Warnings: 18+, retired!Pro-Hero Dynamight, Bakugou is 50, reader is like half his age or more or less idc but Bakugou is older.

Bakugou retires at fifty. It’s much younger than a lot of other heroes that have paved the way for him, and yet he’s accomplished so much that it’s time for him to step aside for the future Pros. The ones that still have so much drive and energy, and are ready to conquer their dreams just like he was.

It gives up a place in the top five rankings for another younger, keen Pro-Hero to take his place. But of course Dynamight is still popular, and he’s still got a loyal fan base that continue to adore him even into his retirement.

Bakugou is still recognised when he goes out to restaurants and coffee shops, full of people trying to grab his autograph or share stories of how they grew up with him and watched him reach number one.

And then there’s you— he meets you one night at a bar when he’s nursing a beer, trying to adjust to having a free schedule instead of protecting the city. And he can’t help but notice the way your eyes glisten when you notice him, leaning against the bar beside his stool as you tilt your head inquisitively.

“No way, you’re Dynamight? My mom used to love you.”

And once again Bakugou is reminded of just how old he is, his blond hair now mixed with wisps of silver, the thick stubble that frames his jaw well on its way to being a beard, his muscular chest now curved with soft pudge and blond hairs and his back aches as he sits on the barstool.

“She had the biggest crush on you when she was younger,” You take a seat beside him as you sip at your own drink, “Had posters and figures up of you and everything.”

Bakugou doesn’t know how it happened— or why a pretty young thing like you wants anything to do with him. He’s gotta be twice your age, maybe more— but the casual conversation continues and you’re practically leaning into him now, pretty eyes glazed over as you stare down at his lips.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck an old man,” You tease, but you should be careful what you wish for, “Can you even still get it up?”

Bakugou reckons he should have you over his knee for that comment alone, but that’s all it takes for him to have his beer bottle slamming down onto the bar as he grabs you by the wrist.

Barely ten minutes later Bakugou has your knees pushed up to your chest inside the dingy dive bar bathroom. Your knickers bunched around them to keep your thighs together as he rams his thick, hard cock inside your tight cunt. The ferocity of his thrusts unlike anything you’ve felt before and you’re certain you can feel him in your lungs. Your naive hole squelches around him, your essence leaking out of you and soaking his heavy balls as the only words that leave your lips now are incoherent babbles. Your hands cling to him for some semblance of reality, painted nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in his forearms. Your grip rough enough to break his skin and join the multiude of scars that already marr his body.

Your head knocks against the mirror with each cant of his hips but you could care less. The pleasure surging through your veins has your mind hazy, his hulking body practically folds you in two as he looms over you, burying his cock inside you to the hilt as you feel so full.

You’re positive you look debauched. Your pretty lipstick ruined as it’s smeared across your lips and cheeks, certain you’re drooling down your chin as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s nothing like the inept men around your own age you’d been with before. With age comes experience, and you’re certain you see heaven when a calloused thumb slips between your bodies to press against your puffy clit.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” He groans, “This old man’s gonna have you gushin’ all over his cock.”

[shybluebirdninja]

Feral Obssession

Summary: Logan's animal instincts go wild when Deadpool casually mentions how often you pass by his place—now Logan needs to see for himself.

Pairing            : Worst-Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Prostitute!Fem-reader

Note                : smut, cum play, very rough sex

WORD COUNT: 3k

Logan’s been living with Wade Wilson for a while now, something that would usually drive him to stab something—or someone—on a good day. Between Wade's non-stop mouth and Blind Al’s random pranks, Logan’s patience had worn thin. But lately, it’s not Wade's annoying chatter or Blind Al’s sarcastic remarks keeping him on edge. It’s you.

Wade had mentioned you in passing more than once. Apparently, you walked past their place all the time—coming home late at night, dressed to kill, a body that turned heads wherever you went. And yeah, Wade had made some dirty joke about what you did for a living. But Logan… he couldn’t shake the image from his head. He had to see for himself.

One night, it finally happened. You walked by just as Logan was outside, smoking a cigar on the fire escape. His eyes tracked your movements automatically, almost like a predator on the hunt, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You were in tight jeans that hugged every curve, your top clinging to your body like a second skin. Goddamn, you were something.

And the worst part? You glanced up at him, just for a second, a sly smile teasing your lips before you disappeared into your apartment across the hall. That smile. It stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time—something primal, something dangerous.

Days passed, and every time you passed by, Logan’s instincts got sharper. It was like he could smell you in the air, a heady mix of perfume and something uniquely you. He tried to ignore it, to push it aside. He’d been down this road before, and it never ended well. But damn it, he couldn’t.

One evening, as Logan sat brooding with a whiskey in hand, Wade strolled in, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat.

“Hey, Peanut,” Wade started, flipping onto the couch with all the grace of a drunk cat. “You know that smokin’ hot neighbor of ours? The one with the legs for days? She asked about you today.”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “The hell’re you talking about, Wade?”

“I’m serious, man! Said she’d noticed you staring like a lovesick puppy. Thought you might want to… you know… get to know her better.” Wade waggled his eyebrows obnoxiously. “You into that kinda thing? ‘Cause I might’ve, uh… mentioned you.”

Logan felt his jaw tighten. He didn’t say anything, just shot Wade a look that could’ve peeled paint. But inside, his mind was racing. You noticed him?

“Come on, man,” Wade continued. “She’s into you. And trust me, with a body like that, she could break you in half.”

Logan grunted, trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want to talk to Wade about this, but something stirred inside him, something he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it.

Later that night, Logan found himself standing outside your door, hesitating for the briefest moment. Then, with a deep breath, he knocked.

The door swung open, and there you were. That same teasing smile played on your lips as your eyes met his.

“Logan,” you greeted smoothly, leaning against the doorframe, your voice a sultry purr. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well… Wade’s a pain in the ass,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “But he wasn’t wrong about you.”

You chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “So, you’ve been watching me, huh? Thought I’d noticed those eyes of yours burning a hole through my clothes.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, and for the first time, he stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. “Can’t help it, darlin’. You make it hard not to look.”

You bit your lip, the air thick with heat. “Wanna come in?”

The door closed behind him with a soft click. Inside, it was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls, but the atmosphere was anything but quiet. Logan could feel it in the air, thick with lust, desire coursing through his veins like a drug. He didn’t need to think. He didn’t need to talk. His instincts took over.

“Logan,” you whispered, stepping closer, your hands trailing up his chest. His muscles were solid beneath your touch, his breath catching just slightly. He was so controlled, so contained… but you could feel the raw power beneath the surface.

His hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, dangerous but full of need.

You smirked, eyes gleaming with challenge. “I’ve been sure since I first saw you on that fire escape.”

That was all it took. In a blur of motion, Logan’s lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was overwhelming, your bodies pressed together, every touch igniting something deeper, something feral.

His hands roamed over your body, rough but skilled, like he knew exactly how to touch you. You gasped as his fingers trailed down your back, pulling you even closer. You could feel the tension in his body, the restraint, like he was holding himself back from just tearing your clothes off.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

That was all he needed to hear. In one swift motion, he had you against the wall, his mouth hot against your neck, his breath heavy and ragged. His hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, his lips trailing down your chest, leaving a burning path in their wake.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed and bit his way across your skin, his body pressing harder against yours. You could feel the hunger in him, the need, and it mirrored your own. It was like you were feeding off each other, every kiss, every touch building the tension higher and higher.

Before you knew it, you were on the bed, Logan above you, his eyes dark and wild with lust. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, like he needed you to breathe.

And then, with a growl, he gave in.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he buried himself inside you with one deep, slow thrust. The feeling was electric, your body arching against him as you gasped for air. He didn’t move at first, just stayed there, holding you close, his forehead resting against yours as he groaned low in his throat.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You couldn’t respond. You could barely think. All you could feel was him—inside you, around you, filling you completely.

Logan's body moved with precision, each thrust deep and slow, making your breath hitch with every movement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, grounding him as he pressed into you, his rough palms hot against your skin. You could feel the restrained power beneath his muscles, the tension winding tighter and tighter with every second. The air was thick with lust, and you could barely focus on anything except the feeling of him inside you, your body arching up to meet his, desperate for more.

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath heavy and ragged, filled with low growls that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly, but it was clear he was losing control too. His restraint was unraveling fast, and you wanted to see him give in completely.

You gasped his name, nails digging into his back as his hips moved faster, the slow burn turning into something more desperate. The feeling was overwhelming, your mind fogging over as pleasure coursed through you, and you could barely form words. But then, he stopped—just for a moment, pulling back, his breath harsh in the silence of the room.

Before you could ask what he was doing, Logan gripped your hips tighter and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift, effortless move. You gasped, bracing yourself on your hands and knees, and before you could fully adjust, you felt his hands slide down your back, rough fingertips tracing the curve of your ass as he positioned himself behind you. The heat of his body hovered over yours, close but not quite touching, teasing you with his proximity.

Without warning, he thrust back into you, deep and rough this time, making you moan out loud. Your hands gripped the sheets as he set a rhythm, pounding into you from behind, each movement powerful and deliberate. Logan's growls became more primal, echoing in the room as his hips slapped against yours. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling your head back slightly so you could hear the rumble in his voice, feel his breath hot against your neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his words dripping with lust, each syllable punctuated by another hard thrust. The angle was deeper, rougher, and you could barely catch your breath as the pleasure intensified, building in waves that made your whole body tremble.

“Logan,” you moaned his name, unable to hold back the sounds escaping your lips. The sensation of his cock filling you over and over, the way he moved, every part of him screamed dominance, but there was something more behind it—something raw and hungry. It was like he needed you, couldn’t get enough of you, and you fed off that need.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your back. You barely had time to register the change before he was on top of you, his body pressing you into the mattress as his lips found yours again in a heated, desperate kiss. His hands roamed your body, gripping your thighs, pulling your legs up around his waist as he positioned himself over you.

Logan’s eyes locked with yours, dark and wild, filled with a kind of intensity that made your heart race. “I want you to look at me when you come,” he growled, voice thick with lust. And then, with one powerful thrust, he was inside you again, filling you completely.

This time, it was missionary, and his movements were slower, more deliberate again, but every thrust hit deeper, the angle perfect. You could feel every inch of him, the heat between your bodies overwhelming as he moved inside you. His lips found your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there, making you gasp and arch into him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he muttered against your skin, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Logan… God, yes,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure built again, even more intense than before.

Logan grinned against your neck, his lips trailing down to your chest, his mouth hot against your skin as his pace quickened, his hips driving into you harder now. The angle was perfect, every thrust hitting just right, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His body moved like a machine, powerful and relentless, but there was something deeply intimate about the way he looked at you, the way his hands gripped your hips, holding you close as he took you over the edge.

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he groaned, his eyes dark and locked on yours. “Come for me.”

That was all it took. Your body tensed, your nails digging into his back as the orgasm hit, waves of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you gasping for breath. Logan’s movements didn’t slow down, his hips still driving into you, prolonging your climax until you were trembling beneath him, completely spent.

Before you could catch your breath, he moved again, shifting you onto your side, your legs tangled together as he pressed against you from behind, his cock still buried deep inside you. His hand slid down your body, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his hip as he thrust into you again, this time slower, deeper, more intimate.

You moaned softly, the sensation overwhelming as he moved inside you from this new angle, his body pressed tightly against yours. His hand slid up your stomach, over your chest, fingers brushing your breasts as he held you close, his breath hot against your ear.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his voice rough and filled with need. “I could do this all night.”

Logan’s hand slid down your body again, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles as he thrust into you, his pace picking up again. The sensation was too much, and before you knew it, the pressure was building again, another orgasm rising up inside you, ready to explode.

“Logan… I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again. I wanna feel you.”

And with one last thrust, you did.

Logan’s grip on your thigh tightened as you trembled beneath him, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm. His pace hadn’t slowed at all, if anything, it was faster now, more primal, more needy. You could feel it in the way he grunted, the way his hands dug into your skin, like he was barely holding himself back.

“Fuck… you’re gonna make me lose it,” Logan growled, his voice so rough it almost vibrated through your body. He thrust harder, deeper, as if he was trying to pull every ounce of pleasure from you, driving you into a state where you were too lost to even think.

His hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, almost possessive in the way he gripped you. His chest was slick with sweat against your back, his breath hot in your ear, and the sheer power radiating off him made you feel small in his arms—but in the best way.

“Goddamn it…,” he muttered, and you could feel the tension in his whole body. The muscles in his arms were flexed, veins popping out as he held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from coming undone.

His lips brushed against your neck, biting down softly as he pushed into you one last time, deep and hard, holding himself there as a deep growl rumbled from his chest. You could feel the moment he finally gave in, the way his whole body shuddered against yours as he came, the heat of his release filling you, spilling out in hot waves.

Logan’s growl turned into a soft groan, his hips jerking slightly as the last of his control slipped away. For a moment, he didn’t move, just held you there, buried deep inside you, his breath heavy and rough in your ear. You could feel his heartbeat against your back, erratic and wild.

Slowly, his grip on you loosened, his body relaxing as the intensity of the moment began to fade. His lips found the back of your neck again, this time softer, more tender, as he let out a deep sigh, still holding you close.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “That was… fuckin' intense.”

You smiled, still trying to catch your breath, your body trembling with aftershocks. Logan finally pulled out of you, rolling onto his back beside you, his chest still rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. His hand reached over, resting on your hip, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as the two of you lay there, tangled in the sheets.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the room still thick with the heat of what just happened. You could feel Logan’s eyes on you, but when you glanced over, his gaze was softer, more thoughtful.

You turned to him, smiling lazily, still feeling the afterglow of everything. “Guess Wade was right, huh?” you teased, your voice playful, but Logan just grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Fuckin' Wade,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Bastard won’t shut up about this, will he?”

You laughed, the sound light in the quiet room, and Logan’s lips curved into a small smirk. There was a softness in his expression now, the rough edges smoothed out by the aftermath of it all, but even so, there was still that unmistakable Logan—fierce, untamed, and completely irresistible.

Logan shifted beside you, pulling you closer into his chest, wrapping his arm around you like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. His warmth was comforting, and for once, you could feel the tension in him ease, as if, for now, he could just be in the moment with you.

You were still catching your breath, body limp against the sheets, when you felt Logan shift beside you.

And then, with a low, deep growl, Logan dipped his fingers into the wet heat where his cum was still dripping from you.

You shuddered, the sensation sending another jolt of pleasure through your overstimulated body. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, overwhelmed, but then you felt him lift his hand, slick with the evidence of what he’d left inside you.

He smirked, his fingers glistening with his release, and before you could say anything, he pressed them against your chest—right between your breasts. Slowly, deliberately, he smeared it across your skin, leaving a hot, wet trail in his wake. His touch was rough, teasing, and the way his eyes followed every movement made it even hotter.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice husky and low, almost like he was admiring his own handiwork. His hand slid higher, spreading the warmth across your chest, smearing his cum all over your skin, marking you with it. “Fuckin' perfect.”

Your breath hitched as he dragged his fingers down again, leaving no inch untouched. The way he moved was deliberate, slow, making sure you felt every second of it. The heat of his release mixed with the sweat already clinging to your skin, and the sight of Logan watching you, his gaze dark and possessive, only made you ache for more.

He leaned down, his mouth just barely brushing against your ear. “Mine,” he growled softly, his voice rough with need. “You’re mine.”

[lizzyiii]

I LOVE THE DRAGONS TREASURE

Please tell me she claims a dragon

Uhhhh, well why don't you read and see...

The Dragon's Treasure (2)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 8.5k words

summary | ‘You leaned into the Queen’s side, the comforting warmth of her presence allowing fresh sobs to escape. All you could think was how it felt to be given away by your mother, as confusion and sorrow swirled in your heart like a storm.’

tags | ANGST, ANGST AND MORE ANGST, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, depression, suicidal thoughts, as always reader is a sensitive queen 👑, reader really goes through it

a/n | I'm SO SORRY this took so long. Also I couldn't put everything in here or else it could've been like 15k words, so guess whatttt, there will now be A PART 3, which will be the final part of this which WILL have a HAPPY ENDING. Anyway enjoy

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 is 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 3

Laenor’s frustration hung heavily in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to reach out and envelop the room. "How could you do this, Rhaenyra?" he hissed, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. He paced across the chamber, the sound of his boots echoing against the stone walls.

Rhaenyra, seated beside you as you lay asleep, cast her gaze downward, her expression shadowed by shame. Her injured arm was pressed tightly against her chest, while her other hand delicately brushed aside the strands of hair that fell across your serene face.

"It was the only way to preserve the fragile peace, Laenor," she replied softly, her voice barely a whisper, yet heavy with sorrow as she focused on you.

Laenor’s frustration erupted once more as he countered, "By giving away our daughter?" His tone was hushed, yet the anguish etched across his features spoke volumes.

"And what do you call your intention to abandon her?" Rhaenyra's retort was fierce, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and hurt.

Laenor's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. He clenched his jaw, the weight of truth too heavy to bear. It was true—after much debate with Rhaenyra and Daemon, the decision had been made to stage his own death, allowing him the chance to flee with Qarl. The thought churned within him like a storm. "You should’ve spoken to me first," he murmured at last, his voice softer, tinged with the ache of sorrow.

"Mother," your weak voice echoed in the chamber, silencing the hushed argument between your parents.

A sharp pain throbbed in your head, the remnants of a distant ringing lingering like a ghost. With great effort, you began to sit up, but your mother gently urged you back, her voice soothing yet urgent, "My love, settle back. Do not strain yourself."

The world around you remained a blur as you blinked, trying to shake off the fog that clouded your mind. "What—what happened?" you managed to ask, your voice soft and uncertain.

Your gaze wandered to the window, where the soft light of dawn poured in, painting the room in warm hues. "What is the last thing you remember, my sweet?" your father asked from your other side, concern etched upon his features. You turned to him, puzzled, noticing the deep worry in his eyes.

Closing your eyes, you grasped at the fragments of the night that felt just out of reach. "Jace woke me, and then—there was a fight," you stammered, urgency clawing at your chest as you opened your eyes wide. "Is everyone alright? Is Aemond alright?"

Your mother’s lips pressed together as she exchanged a troubled glance with your father. "Your brothers and cousins are fine," she began carefully, "but… Aemond lost his eye."

Your heart plummeted at her words, and tears brimmed in your lilac eyes as memories flickered like a dim flame. "Luke?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“Yes,” your mother whispered gently, searching your eyes with a steady resolve, “but he only acted to protect Jace from Aemond.”

“No,” you breathed out, shaking your head in denial, desperation threading through your voice, “Aemond would never truly hurt Jace.”

“But it’s alright,” Rhaenyra interjected, dismissing your words with an air of resignation. “Aemond said that Vhagar was worth the sacrifice.”

Worth the sacrifice? You struggled to comprehend how anything could justify the loss of an eye. A deep longing stirred within you to see Aemond, to confirm that he was truly alright. Your gaze flitted anxiously between your mother and father before the memory of the loud commotion that had pulled you from your sleep surged back. “Why were you and Father fighting?”

Your father arched an eyebrow, turning his attention to your mother with an air of expectation, “Well, Rhaenyra?”

Your mother offered a strained smile, her hand gently brushing your cheek as if to shield you from any remaining tension in the air. “To ensure peace between our families, the Queen and I have decided to betroth you to Aemond. You will wed when you turn seven and ten. But do not fret, dear one; you and Aemond are the closest of friends.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your father’s sharp voice cut through the air. “Rhaenyra, tell her the rest.”

With a small sigh, your mother looked away, a shadow passing over her face. “During your betrothal, the Queen insists you stay in the Red Keep.”

Feelings swirled within you at the thought of being promised to Aemond. Yes, he was your dear friend, but never had you envisioned him as your husband. As memories of the past returned—those cruel words Aemond had hurled at your cousins and brothers—you felt a knot form in your stomach. Yet, a flutter of hope ignited in your heart as you looked up at your mother. “Does that mean we’re going home?”

Your mother’s eyes widened, confusion washing over you as you noticed tears pooling within them. “No, my treasure,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “We shall remain in Dragonstone while you live in King’s Landing.”

The air seemed to thicken around you, and your heart felt like it had cracked open at her words. "What?" You clutched her tightly, burying your face against her soft dress, your voice muffled as you pleaded, "I don’t want to be away from you."

“It will be alright,” Rhaenyra whispered gently, pressing her lips to your brow. “We will write letters every day, and you will come visit us at Dragonstone.” You could hear the tremble in her voice, even as she held you close, tears started to shimmer in Rhaenyra’s eyes, her heart aching as she cradled you in her arms, trying to soothe both your sorrow and her own. “All will be well, I promise.”

It was the only path left before her. By sending you to the Greens, she hoped to weave a thread of peace, to quiet their unrest, and when the time was right, she would reclaim you from their grasp.

You pulled back, your little nose pink and tear-streaked cheeks glistening with sorrow as your gaze fell upon her injured hand. “What happened to your hand?” you asked, concern etched across your cherubic face.

Rhaenyra fought back the urge to weep at your innocent worry. Even through your own heartbreak, you were thinking of her. She offered you the best smile she could muster, brushing a thumb softly against your cheek as she kissed your forehead. “It’s naught to trouble yourself over, my love.”

Her eyes drifted toward Laenor, who stood nearby, his face a mask of despair as he looked down at you.

"I do not wish to leave, please, Father, do not make me go," you whimpered softly, clutching at him as he carried you toward the Driftmark courtyard, where a carriage awaited to take you away. You had heard that Helaena, Aegon, and Aemond had already set sail on a ship, so you would be accompanying the Queen.

"I trust your mother’s wisdom," his voice was gentle. "You know that I love you, don't you?"

You nodded quietly, burying your face into the comforting crook of his neck, seeking solace from the storm brewing in your heart. Laenor paused, his hands steadying you as he whispered, "Look at me, my sweet. I've come to a most profound realization."

With a flicker of curiosity, you lifted your head, your sad lilac eyes searching his face, "What is it?"

He regarded you with a deep, thoughtful gaze for a moment before speaking, "That nothing and no one shall ever hold my heart as you do." He leaned closer and pressed a tender kiss upon your nose, a gesture meant to seal the words in a bond of love, "You are and will always be my greatest love."

At his declaration, your lips quivered, and hastily you retreated into the comforting warmth of his embrace, hiding your face against him once more.

You felt him exhale softly, the sound laced with an emotion you could not name, before he asked with a quiet sincerity, "Do you wish for my happiness?"

"More than anything, Father," you replied without hesitance, your voice a whisper wrapped in sincerity.

With your head nestled against him, you were unaware of the tears that brimmed in his eyes. He brushed his lips gently across your brow, murmuring softly, "Good, that’s good.

As you and your father finally stepped into the sunlit courtyard, you turned your gaze to take in the bustling crowd.

Your cousins, Baela and Rhaena, stood close by, flanked by your grandparents, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. A frown crossed your face as you spotted your great uncle Daemon standing beside your brothers and mother too close for your liking. Opposite them, before the grand carriage, stood Queen Alicent, her expression poised as she appeared to await your arrival.

With a gentle motion, your father set you down before your mother. As you looked up, you noticed Jace and Luke actively avoiding your eyes, their faces averted. Your mother knelt before you, her hands tenderly cradling your cheeks. "Do not fret, my sweet treasure. We shall be together again soon."

At her comforting words, fresh tears welled in your lilac eyes as you suddenly launched yourself into her embrace, clinging to her waist and burying your face in the soft fabric of her skirts. "I don’t want to go!" you cried out, your voice breaking.

Your small hands tightened around her skirts as you felt your father’s gentle persistence in trying to pry you away from your mother, and you protested fiercely, "No, I won’t go! You can’t make me!"

Your mother, her heart heavy with sorrow, cupped your cheeks in her hands, trying to soothe your tempest of emotions. “Hush, my love,” she whispered, her voice a tender balm against your distress.

Around you, pitying gazes flickered like candle flames—your grandparents’ melancholic expressions, your cousins’ shared discomfort. Jace’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears while Luke, overwhelmed, covered his ears, trying to drown out your wails. Rhaenyra felt a crack in her resolve as she listened to your sobs, contemplating possibly halting your betrothal. But then, a steady touch on her shoulder drew her attention. It was Daemon, giving her a firm nod, a silent promise of encouragement.

Steeling herself, Rhaenyra placed her hands over your tiny fists, carefully prying you away from her gown. She lifted your small face to meet her gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. “You must perform your duty to the crown,” she said firmly, the weight of her words grounding her as she continued, “You are a princess now—act like it.” Each word felt like a dagger to her own heart, yet she managed to keep her voice steady, unwilling to let her emotions betray her in front of the others.

You looked up at her, your large, glistening eyes begging for understanding as you bit down on your lip, desperate to stifle your cries. It was then that you felt a soft hand on your shoulder and you saw your mother’s once-kind eyes harden and her lips set into a determined line.

Behind you, Queen Alicent's voice rang out with gentle authority, “Do not worry, sweet princess. We shall take good care of you.”

With one last lingering gaze at your mother, you allowed the Queen to lead you away. As you settled into the carriage alongside her and your grandsire, the weight of your sadness enveloped you once more. You leaned into the Queen’s side, the comforting warmth of her presence allowing fresh sobs to escape. All you could think was how it felt to be given away by your mother, as confusion and sorrow swirled in your heart like a storm.

Aemond's heart was heavy with worry. No, it wasn’t just worry—it was a deep, gnawing distress that coiled in his chest like a serpent.

The thrill of claiming Vhagar had filled him with such joy, he had felt as if he could touch the moon itself. The moment he soared through the skies on the back of the great dragon, he had thought only of you, eager to share the monumental news. In his mind, you would have clapped your hands and laughed with delight, celebrating the bond forged between rider and beast.

But fate had other plans. Just when he imagined your bright smile lighting up the sky, your brothers and cousins had to swoop in, like crows scattering the sunlight.

He could still picture the way you had stared at him, your eyes wide, but not with excitement. No, there was something else in your gaze—hurt. Aemond’s heart twisted painfully. What did it matter that he had claimed Vhagar? Didn’t you understand? He had done it for both of you, to lift you higher, to make you proud.

And just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, the air crackled with tension. Your stupid cousin had lunged, and in that moment, everything exploded into chaos. And then much worse — his bastard nephew had struck you. It didn’t matter if it was an accident or a deliberate attack; Aemond saw only red. All he could think of was defending your honor, standing up for you. But that brave impulse led to disaster—the sharp, searing pain of loss as your bastard brother struck him down, taking his eye and leaving an aching void in its place.

The pain was unlike anything Aemond had ever known. As the sharp impact seared through him, a crimson tide flooded down his cheek, hot and frightening. For a fleeting moment, fear clawed at his insides; he truly believed he would not survive this. The world around him dimmed, distorted by the sudden absence of sight, as the maester began to stitch the ravaged flesh, one painful tug at a time. In that disorienting haze, it felt as if all the light had been extinguished, leaving him vulnerable and alone.

In the throng of shouting, his mother alone stood as his shield, her voice rising powerfully over the din. Where was the king? His father seemed indifferent, preoccupied with the whispers of bastardy that tainted his grandson's names, ignoring his son’s suffering. Aemond felt a pang of betrayal deep in his heart, a bitter realization that the bonds of blood carried chains as much as love.

But more damning still was your stillness. You lay unconscious atop a small cot, the aftermath of your collision against a stone wall. His worry for you gnawed at his mind, a relentless ache more piercing than the wound that marred his face. Around him, the fighting raged on, but all it did was intensify the throbbing where his eye had been, and in desperation, he called out, declaring that his lost eye was a worthy sacrifice for a dragon—any dragon.

Then his mother came to him, her expression conveying hope. She spoke of a betrothal, weaving a promise between the two of you like a delicate thread. In that moment, Aemond's heart swelled with a light that eclipsed the agony gripping his face.

You would be his wife; destined to stand at his side forever. It was a beautiful twist of fate meant to be, a binding forged that made him forget, at least for a heartbeat, that he was now a boy with only one eye.

But now, after a fortnight spent back in the imposing halls of the Red Keep, he still had not laid eyes on you since that fateful night in Driftmark. At first, his mother had told him you were too distraught, struggling to settle back in King’s Landing without your mother and siblings. Aemond could understand that; he knew how deeply you loved his sister, though he had no clue as to why.

Yet, days passed, and the weight of your absence grew heavier. Then, the letter arrived. A letter relaying how your father, Laenor Velaryon, had been murdered. His mother, with a grave expression, had explained that you were in no condition for visitors, grief stricken and devastated. Aemond felt a surge of frustration mixed with a pang of empathy. How could he possibly comfort you from afar?

Despite his mother’s warnings, he refused to be deterred. Each day, without fail, he ventured to your chambers, his heart pounding with hope and desperation. Each time, he was met with the same stony refusal from your sworn shield, Ser Rowan. The knight’s demeanor was unwavering, his expression a mixture of duty and pity that only fueled Aemond’s determination.

With a final, resentful glance at the shield that stood between him and you, he turned away, but not before giving your door a lingering look—his heart aching to see you, to offer even a word of solace.

That’s when a cunning idea sparked in his mind. He recalled the tales of Maegor the Cruel, who, in his paranoia, had carved secret tunnels through the very walls of the Red Keep. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could find a way in. Aemond’s pulse quickened at the thought of sneaking through those hidden passages, unseen and unnoticed, until he could finally stand before you.

He took a deep breath, his determination solidifying. No more waiting, no more barriers. He would find you, even if it meant crawling through the dark, twisting shadows of the Red Keep. You were destined to be together, and he would not allow the two of you to be apart any longer.

It had taken Aemond a full week—seven days of frustration, of feeling like a fool. He had spent those days pacing the cold stone walls of the Red Keep, touching every surface in hopes of discovering one of the fabled tunnels of Maegor the Cruel. They said the king had built secret ways throughout the castle, but Aemond had no guide, no map. Only his determination kept him searching. Then, at last, he'd found one—hidden behind a grand tapestry depicting dragons in flight.

Excitement had quickly turned to terror. Once inside the dark, winding passageways, Aemond realized he was hopelessly lost. The stone walls seemed to close in on him, their narrow confines suffocating. Hours passed before he finally stumbled out, breathless and covered in dust, into the kitchens. The sky outside had turned to night, and his stomach gnawed at him from hunger. He looked a sight—dirty, disheveled, and no closer to his goal.

The next time, he would not make the same mistake. He had prepared this time, studying the first tunnel he’d discovered and memorizing the paths it led to. He knew now how to navigate these secret ways, and his heart raced at the thought of where they might lead him.

Tonight, he sought your chambers.

Quiet as a shadow, he slipped through the concealed door in the wall, pushing it open just enough to sneak inside. His eyes darted around the room before he found a hiding place behind a tall dressing screen. From there, he could see only part of the room.

Aemond stood quietly behind the carved wooden screen, peering through the delicate patterns to catch a glimpse of his mother, Alicent. She sat beside the bed, where you were hidden beneath a heavy blanket, your figure barely visible. He strained to hear the conversation, his curiosity mingling with worry.

"You must eat, my sweet princess," Alicent's voice trembled slightly, though she tried to keep her tone soothing. Her words echoed through the chamber, filling the air with tension that made Aemond's heart tighten.

He frowned, sensing the tension in the room, the weight of his mother's concern. But you gave no answer, not even a whisper, and the silence only deepened his anxiety.

"If you do not eat," his mother continued, her voice sharper now, filled with urgency, "you will waste away. You will die."

Aemond swallowed hard. He hadn’t known it was this bad. He pressed himself closer to the screen, his young mind racing. What could he do? How could he help?

The silence finally broke, but the sound of your voice was weak, and it made Aemond's stomach churn. "I do not care," you said, the weariness in your tone hanging in the air like a shadow. Aemond frowned deeply, his heart racing. It sounded as though you hadn’t spoken in days.

"I wish to be with my father," you whispered, and Aemond felt the words like a blow. His hands clenched at his sides as his chest grew tight.

Queen Alicent gasped, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Princess..." she murmured, her voice barely above a breath.

A heavy silence lingered for a few moments, only broken by the sound of Alicent’s soft sigh. She leaned forward and gently caressed your brow, her fingers smoothing your hair with a mother’s care. "I shall return later," she said softly, though there was a hint of sadness in her tone. "Perhaps by then, you will be in better spirits."

She rose from the bed, her gown rustling softly as she turned to leave. Aemond stayed perfectly still, his breath held until his mother had exited the chamber, her footsteps fading down the corridor. Only then did he dare to move, waiting a moment longer before stepping out from behind the screen, the weight of your words still heavy on his mind.

Aemond swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped cautiously toward your bed. The tension in the room made the air thick, and his hands had already begun to tremble. He cleared his throat, though it did little to ease the nervousness tightening his chest. "Niece," he called softly, hoping the word might draw some warmth from you.

But you lay there, still as stone, offering him no sign that you’d heard. His heart quickened, not just from excitement but from something colder—apprehension. "It is me, Aemond," he said, trying again, this time louder, as if his voice could somehow break through the wall you had built around yourself.

"Leave," you croaked, your voice rough from disuse. The word, though weak, struck him like a lash.

Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he edged closer to your bedside despite the rejection. His heart ached at the sight of you, eyes barely open, a sliver of sharp lilac staring back at him with the irritation of a cornered animal. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "I know you are in pain—"

"Go away," you interrupted, your voice fragile, cracking under the weight of your sorrow as you pulled the covers over your head, shielding yourself from him, from the world.

Aemond stood frozen, his brow furrowing deeply, the sting of your words sharper than he expected. He clenched his fists at his sides, feeling the vulnerability he had tried so hard to bury rise to the surface. His voice was barely above a whisper as he let slip the truth he had kept locked away. "I… I’ve missed you."

Your silence stung worse than anything you could have said. Then, muffled beneath the covers, you spoke firmly, your voice laced with bitterness. "Leave me be, Aemond."

Desperation took hold of him. His face grew hot as he reached out toward the blanket that hid you, fingers trembling. "Please," he whispered, voice cracking, "just speak to me. Let me help you."

Suddenly, the covers flew back, and you sat up, your face twisted in an anger that made Aemond step back as if he had been struck. The look in your eyes—sharp, hateful—was something he had never seen before, not directed at him. "Now you wish to help?" you spat, your voice ringing through the chamber, venomous and cold. "You’ve ruined everything, Aemond."

His heart pounded painfully in his chest. "What?" He stared at you, confusion clouding his mind. What had he done?

"Because of your selfish ambitions," you snarled, your voice rising with every word, "my mother had to give me away. If it weren’t for you, I would still be with them—still be with my father!" Tears brimmed in your lilac eyes, the sight of them making his stomach churn.

Aemond felt like the floor had dropped from beneath him. How could this be his fault? He didn’t understand. "Niece—please," he whispered, but his voice sounded small and powerless, even to himself.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and when you spoke again, the words shattered him. "I hate you, Aemond. And I will hate you for the rest of our lives." Your voice broke as the tears finally fell, streaming down your cheeks. "Now go!"

Your scream echoed through the room, and Aemond felt wetness on his own cheeks. His chest tightened, and the lump in his throat grew unbearable. He flinched as he heard your knight call for you from outside the chamber, likely drawn by your raised voice.

Breathing heavily, Aemond glanced at you one last time, your tear-streaked face seared into his mind. His body moved on instinct, turning away, his feet carrying him swiftly back toward the secret door he had come through. His heart was heavy with a pain he had never felt before, not even when he had lost his eye, and as he slipped away, the weight of your words followed him into the darkness.

Queen Alicent paced the length of her chambers, her mind in turmoil. She had never anticipated this outcome when she brought you to the Red Keep, far from Dragonstone, far from your mother, Princess Rhaenyra. She had believed that under her guidance, you would flourish. As her ward, betrothed to Aemond, your closest companion, she imagined you would grow into a graceful, dutiful princess—one who would restore the honor of House Targaryen, untarnished by the reckless whims of your mother.

In her heart, Alicent had even dared to hope that you might surpass Rhaenyra, earning the love of the people as the true 'Realm’s Delight.' But those dreams now seemed distant and foolish.

It had all gone wrong.

Alicent had grossly underestimated the bond you held with your mother, the Princess. The spirited, joyful girl she had known—the one who ran through the halls of the Red Keep with Aemond at your side—had withered before her very eyes. In mere weeks, you had become a ghost, hollow and silent, consumed by grief and loneliness. Being torn from your mother’s side, followed by the sudden news of your father’s death, had shattered something deep within you.

Alicent was powerless. She could feel the weight of her failure pressing down on her, and it terrified her. You had stopped eating, and each time she visited your chambers, the sight of you grew more distressing. Your once-cherubic face had grown gaunt, your cheeks hollow, and the dark rings under your violet eyes seemed to deepen with every passing day. The life that had once shone so brightly within you was now dim, fading with each moment that you refused to take nourishment.

In truth, Alicent no longer cared about the feud between her and Rhaenyra. She no longer saw you as a pawn in the game of succession, a princess bound to her son. All of that had crumbled in the face of her growing fear for your health. She couldn’t stand by and watch you waste away, not like this.

She had tried everything—soft words, coaxing, but nothing had worked. You remained trapped in your sorrow, unreachable, silent. Desperation clawed at her heart, and in that desperation, she did something she had not imagined she would ever do.

Alicent sat at her desk, trembling hands grasping a quill as she penned a letter to Princess Rhaenyra. She pushed aside her pride, her anger, her fear of what this might mean for the tensions between their families. None of that mattered now. Only you mattered.

“Princess Rhaenyra, your daughter is unwell,” she wrote, her heart heavy with each stroke of the pen. “I ask—no, I beg you to come to the Red Keep at once. She needs you. I fear that without her mother, she may not survive this grief. Please, come swiftly.”

The letter was sealed with wax, her hand shaking as she pressed the Targaryen sigil into it. For once, Alicent did not think of herself, nor of the coming war over the Iron Throne. She only thought of the fragile girl with lilac eyes, fading away in the chambers of the Red Keep.

"Send it," she ordered the servant, her voice tight with emotion. "Have the fastest raven dispatched to Dragonstone."

But a week had passed, and there had been no response. Alicent cursed Rhaenyra’s negligence. How could she ignore such a plea? How could she allow her own daughter to wither away in the Red Keep, as if you were some pawn to be discarded?

What Alicent did not know was that the letter had never reached Rhaenyra’s hands. No, it had fallen into the possession of Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince had taken one glance at the letter and, with a smirk of indifference, tossed it into the flames of the hearth. In his eyes, you were of no use to him. Another heir of Rhaenyra’s blood, one more obstacle between him and his ambitions for his own children. Let the girl perish, he thought with cold calculation. It was one less threat to his plans for the Iron Throne.

Alicent, unaware of this, grew more anxious with each passing day. No response from Dragonstone. No sign of Rhaenyra. She could not wait any longer. In her desperation, she turned to another—a hope that perhaps your dearest friend, Helaena, might reach you where others had failed. Helaena, her sweet daughter, only three years your senior, had always been close to you, sharing dreams and secrets in happier times.

Alicent clasped her hands together as she stood outside your chamber, her nerves taut. She turned to Ser Rowan, your sworn knight, who had guarded you since your first breath.

"Any change today?" she asked, though her voice betrayed little hope.

Ser Rowan, his face dark with guilt, shook his head solemnly. "No, Your Grace. She has not stirred."

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line, and with a nod, she pushed open the door, Helaena trailing close behind. The chamber was as it always was—quiet, heavy with the air of grief. You lay in the bed, as still and silent as if the world outside had ceased to exist.

Alicent cleared her throat, trying to inject warmth into her voice. "Princess," she called gently, "I’ve brought a guest for you."

You did not stir. You did not acknowledge her at all. It was as if the words had fallen into an abyss.

Alicent’s heart sank. She glanced down at Helaena and gave her a nod of encouragement. Perhaps, just perhaps, her daughter could say what she could not.

Helaena moved slowly, her steps light as she approached your bed and sat beside you. She said nothing at first, simply humming a soft, melodic tune under her breath. From the small chest she had brought, she carefully lifted something between her fingers. The sight of her silent actions caught your attention, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, your small head peeked from beneath the covers, your curiosity piqued.

Alicent held her breath, hope blooming in her chest.

Helaena continued to hum as she gently played with the small creature in her hands, a soft smile on her lips. After a few moments of silence, you finally spoke, your voice weak and quiet. "What's that?"

Without glancing at you, Helaena murmured, "Buprestidae."

Your face scrunched in confusion, and Helaena, with her usual dreamy tone, elaborated, "It is more commonly known as the jewel beetle."

Your eyes widened in quiet wonder as you gazed at the shiny emerald insect in her hand. Its iridescent shell shimmered in the dim light, captivating your attention. "It’s very pretty," you whispered.

A faint smile touched Helaena’s lips. "My books say it is one of the most beautiful insects in the world," she said gently, her voice filled with affection as she watched your interest grow.

"Wow," you breathed, your small voice barely audible. Then, with a glimmer of your old self shining through, you looked up at Helaena, your lilac eyes filled with a trace of life. "Will you tell me more about them?"

There was a brief pause as Helaena's eyes drifted toward the untouched tray of food sitting beside your bed. She tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but firm as she made her quiet bargain. "I will... but only if you finish your soup."

Alicent’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched you hesitate, the tension in the room thick. She held her breath, praying to the gods that you would comply. After a moment of silence, you reached for the bowl and, with slow, deliberate movements, lifted the spoon to your lips.

Alicent nearly wept in relief as you began to eat, her heart lightening for the first time in what felt like ages. Helaena, true to her word, continued in her calm, melodic voice, speaking to you as you slowly finished your meal.

"Most jewel beetles are active during the day," Helaena explained, her tone soothing, "and they spend the night nestled beneath leaves or in the bark of trees. Their shimmering colors help them attract mates, especially under the bright sunlight, which makes their beauty shine even more..."

Alicent stepped back, her gaze lingering on you as the weight on her chest finally began to lift.

You found solace in Helaena’s presence, though at times her words felt like riddles, their meaning drifting past you like the wind. Still, there was something calming about her company, something soft and soothing in the way she moved and spoke. Her visits had become the brightest part of your days, a welcome distraction from the deep sorrow that still gripped you.

The ache of being separated from your mother, weighed heavy on your heart. You missed her fiercely, and the news of your father's death had only deepened that sadness. But when Helaena was near, for just a little while, the burden lightened. Her quiet, gentle presence helped you forget, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Today, the two of you sat in the warm light of your solar. Helaena perched on the chaise, her hands busy with her embroidery, weaving delicate patterns into the fabric with practiced ease. You, content with your own thoughts, sat nearby with parchment spread before you, sketching the insects Helaena had shown you in previous days. The jewel beetle, with its shimmering emerald wings, was your favorite to draw.

As your hand moved across the parchment, your mind began to drift. Your thoughts slipped away from the beetles and the quiet peace of the moment, wandering back to the last time you had seen Aemond. You could still see the hurt etched on his face, the way his expression had crumpled when you yelled at him in your grief. Your words had been sharp, and though part of you still clung to the anger, another part felt something different. Guilt. Regret.

You had missed him—more than you wanted to admit. Since you were a babe, it had always been you and Aemond, bound by blood and by the shared weight of the Targaryen legacy. You had thought that, no matter what, it would always be the two of you against the world. But then he had claimed Vhagar.

Everything had changed after that. He had left you behind, the only one of your kin without a dragon. And more than that, he had spoken cruelly, lashing out at your brothers and cousins with venom you had never seen in him before. His words had cut deeper than any sword.

But now, as you sat in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had overreacted. Yes, Aemond had been harsh, and yes, he had taken Vhagar without thinking how it would make you feel. But could one misstep, one painful choice, truly undo the bond you had shared for so long? Was your friendship, your connection as kin, so fragile that it could be shattered by a single moment of anger?

You paused, the charcoal in your hand hovering over the parchment as you considered. You missed him. Truly. And perhaps, deep down, you wondered if he missed you too.

"I do not wish to marry Aegon."

You looked up in surprise, her words catching you off guard. The castle had been alive with preparation — maids sewing new gowns, cooks laboring over feasts, and courtiers whispering about the upcoming union. You knew it was common among your kin for Targaryens to wed each other, like your great-grandparents, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, who were siblings. But still, the thought of Helaena marrying Aegon unsettled you, and now it seemed to trouble her too.

You knew why, of course. Your uncle Aegon was cruel, more interested in wine and women than anything else. He frightened you sometimes with the way he looked through people, as though they didn’t matter at all. You couldn’t imagine him as a kind husband.

"Why don’t you tell the Queen?" you asked, leaning forward on your seat, your eyes wide and hopeful. "Tell her you don’t want to marry him."

Helaena didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on her embroidery as her needle moved with careful precision. “Mother says it is our duty,” she murmured softly, almost as if speaking to herself. “To keep the blood pure. But... I don’t believe I shall be happy.”

The way her voice wavered made your heart tighten. Without thinking, you blurted out, “What if we leave?”

Helaena blinked, her head turning slowly toward you, confusion clear in her violet eyes. “Leave?” she repeated, her tone soft and bewildered. “I do not understand.”

“What if we just left?” you said again, more firmly this time, your words coming quicker now as the idea took shape in your mind. “We could fly away. Dreamfyre is strong. We could ride her across the Narrow Sea, go somewhere far away where no one could find us.”

For a moment, Helaena only stared at you, her needle paused in mid-air. “Niece...” she began, her tone hesitant, unsure.

“Yes!” You leaped to your feet, your excitement bubbling over as you grabbed her hands, your small fingers wrapping around her delicate, unmarked ones. Your hands were still smudged with charcoal. “We could see all the wonders of Essos — the great temples, the golden fields! We would eat cakes every day and never have to worry about anything.”

Helaena’s eyes softened, though a flicker of something uncertain lingered there. “And what of coin?” she asked after a pause, her voice gentle but cautious. “How would we live?”

You waved your hand dismissively, grinning. “We have a dragon, Aunt Helaena! We wouldn’t need anything else. Dreamfyre could take us wherever we wanted. No one could stop us.”

But Helaena’s gaze grew distant again, her lips pressing into a thin line. “We would be leaving our family behind,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Your smile faded as you sat back down beside her, your shoulders slumping slightly. Your mother had already left you behind when she sent you to King’s Landing. You had not seen her in months. Aemond… well, Aemond had Vhagar now. He didn’t need you anymore. He’d probably already forgotten about you.

“They don’t care about our happiness,” you said softly, trying to convince yourself as much as Helaena. “Why should we care about theirs?”

Helaena turned her face away, her expression distant, as if lost in her thoughts. Her lips moved slowly, forming words that you didn’t quite understand, though her tone was soft and strange, like a distant lullaby. “As shadows stretch and sky turns cold, fear within, like dusk, takes hold. Alone you stand, though hearts may yearn, in darkness waiting will light return."

You blinked, completely baffled by her words, but you simply shrugged and smiled brightly. “I’ll take that as a yes!”

Helaena’s head snapped back to you, her eyes widening in alarm. “Wait—”

“We’ll meet tonight at the Dragonpit!” you declared, bouncing up from your seat, your excitement renewed. “I’ll go pack my things!”

Before she could say another word, you were already running toward the door, your heart racing at the thought of your grand adventure. You didn’t hear Helaena call after you, nor did you see the torn, pained look that crossed her face as she watched you leave, uncertainty clouding her gaze.

Sneaking out of the Red Keep was, by far, the most reckless thing you had ever done in your ten years of life. Well, perhaps not the hardest, but it certainly felt like it as you plotted how to send Ser Rowan, your sworn shield, on a task that would occupy him long enough for your escape.

Stepping out of your chambers after so long, you saw Ser Rowan look at you with wide eyes, as though he had seen a ghost. It had been months since your return and you had not left your chambers since. your presence at such an hour clearly startled him.

“Ser Rowan,” you began, trying to keep your voice even, “could you fetch me some strawberry cakes from the kitchens, please?”

It was the middle of the night, and you knew full well that no one would be stirring in the kitchens at such an hour. Ser Rowan frowned at first, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Might it wait until morning, my princess? Surely—”

You interrupted with wide eyes and a slight pout, a trick you had learned from watching your mother use many times. Ser Rowan sighed, defeated.

“As you wish, my Princess,” he said with a small bow. “I shall return as swiftly as I can.”

As soon as he disappeared down the corridor, you darted back into your chambers. Your hands moved quickly, fastening a dark cloak over your nightgown, pulling on your boots, and securing a small satchel around your waist. Inside the satchel, you placed the few things you could not bear to leave behind—a few trinkets, a drawing of your family, and the little wooden dragon Aemond had carved for you.

Heart racing with excitement, you slipped out, careful to avoid the guards as you moved silently through the Keep. You kept close to the stone walls, where the shadows were deepest, and prayed no one would see your small figure darting from one corner to the next.

Somehow, by sheer luck or skill, you made it past the castle walls. You retraced your steps, recalling the times you had secretly followed your brothers, Jace and Luke, on their way to their dragon lessons. The path to the Dragonpit came to you as if you had walked it a hundred times before.

The pit was dark and silent, save for the occasional low rumble of a sleeping dragon. You knew you should have waited outside for Helaena, but your curiosity won out. The thrill of being here alone, surrounded by the presence of dragons, was too great to resist.

The deeper you ventured into the pit, the more your heart pounded with a mix of fear and awe. And there, before you, stood Dreamfyre, Helaena’s dragon. Even in the dim light, her blue scales shimmered like precious gems.

You gasped, startled, as Dreamfyre let out a heavy breath, a plume of smoke curling from her nostrils. The sudden movement made you cough, and Dreamfyre’s eyes flickered open. For a terrifying moment, the great beast stared at you with narrowed eyes.

You froze, holding your breath, certain that you had made a grave mistake. But after what felt like an eternity, Dreamfyre closed her eyes again, seemingly uninterested in you. Slowly, you let out a breath of relief, the tension easing from your shoulders.

You had not anticipated how long it would take for Helaena to arrive. The excitement of your escape began to fade, and the long wait in the cold of the Dragonpit made your eyelids heavy. Without thinking, you found yourself sitting against Dreamfyre’s rough, warm side. Her body heat was comforting, and before long, your head drooped, sleep threatening to take you.

Just as you were about to doze off, the sound of footsteps echoed through the pit. You jumped to your feet, hastily smoothing out your cloak and dress. Heart racing once more, you called out eagerly into the darkness.

“Helaena? Is that you?”

But the voice that responded was not hers.

“No, it’s me.”

A surge of confusion washed over you as Aemond stepped into view, a torch held high in his hand. The flickering light cast sharp shadows across his face, illuminating the scarred half hidden beneath his eyepatch. The sight of him, standing there with his frown and fierce gaze, made your heart drop. You hadn’t seen him since that terrible confrontation, you had not even noticed his injury. And now, seeing him like this, the guilt and confusion from that night flooded back.

You swallowed hard, your voice quivering as you asked, “Where is Helaena?”

“She’s back in the Red Keep, where you should be,” Aemond replied, his tone firm and commanding.

He hadn’t seen you in months, and though he felt relief to see you healthy and well, there was also a deep, gnawing hurt inside him. He had been shocked when Helaena told him of your plan to run away, and that pain twisted in his chest. You, his betrothed, were going to leave him behind so easily. And as much as he would have never admitted it aloud, if you had asked him to join you, he would have gone without hesitation.

Hurt flashed in your eyes, and your lip began to tremble. “Why isn’t she here?” you whispered, your voice barely holding together.

“She told me about your plan,” Aemond said quietly, his violet gaze never leaving you. “She sent me here to tell you that she has changed her mind.”

“No,” you shook your head fiercely, your voice cracking. “No, she wouldn’t do that.”

“She realized what you were doing was wrong,” Aemond said, stepping closer, his voice calm but stern. “The two of you have duties —”

"That's so easy for you to say," you snapped, your voice suddenly sharp and filled with anger. Neither of you noticed Dreamfyre’s eyes slowly opening at the sound of your raised voices. Tears welled up in your lilac eyes as you shouted, "You’re not the one being used as a broodmare! A mere vessel for heirs!"

Aemond flinched, pain crossing his face. He reached a hand out towards you, trying to soothe you. “Niece—”

But you stepped back, tears spilling down your cheeks as you slapped his hand away. Without another word, you turned and ran, your feet flying across the stone ground as Aemond’s voice echoed behind you.

But you didn’t stop. You ran through the Dragonpit, tears blurring your vision as you navigated the winding paths. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you, but you pushed forward, taking every shortcut you knew to avoid him.

When you finally reached the Red Keep, your legs were aching, and your breaths came out in sharp gasps. You felt utterly betrayed, the sting of Helaena’s broken promise cutting deep. Your ribs ached as you hurried back to your chambers, your sobs the only sound in the cold, empty corridors.

Then, as you turned a corner, you collided with Ser Rowan, who had just returned, a tray of strawberry cakes in his hands. The tray clattered to the ground as he caught sight of your tear-streaked face, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Princess!” he exclaimed, dropping to one knee in front of you, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”

But instead of answering, you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and sobbing into his steel-clad shoulder. The weight of everything crashed over you—your mother’s abandonment, Aemond’s actions, and Helaena’s betrayal. It all felt too heavy to bear, and in that moment, Ser Rowan was the only one who hadn’t turned his back on you.

You clung to him, crying into his armor, while the castle around you remained cold and silent, just like the hearts of those you had once thought loved you.

So what do you think about that reader/rhaenyra parallel I snuck in?

“we could ride her across the narrow sea, go somewhere far away where no one could find us. we would eat cakes every day and never have to worry about anything.”

—reader

“i want to fly with you on dragon back, see the great wonders across the narrow sea, and eat only cake.”

—rhaenyra

TO BE CONTINUED...

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @strawberymilktea

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

Robin sucks on her drink through her straw, “why, exactly, are we here?”

Steve sighs into his own drink.

Robin looks around the yard from her perch on a lawn chair, “I can’t help but notice, Steven, that we are very clearly the oldest people here.”

Steve watches Eddie balefully. He’s trying and failing to light the grill. It’s almost embarrassing to watch; Steve can’t seem to look away.

“Steven, I am drinking something that was mixed together in bowl. I’m drinking it out of a red solo cup. I haven’t touched one of these in a decade. I require an explanation.”

“I don’t have one.”

“That is a lie. Your pants will catch fire and then you can use them to help that moron to light the grill.”

They watch for a little longer.

“Fucks sake Steve just go and do it for him. This tastes like paint thinner; I’ll need to eat some bread at some point or I’ll go into kidney failure.”

Steve gets up and lights the grill for Eddie. He’s wearing another butchered tee shirt and some black board shorts. He’s so pale, and all of his bony bits are on show. Elbows. Wrists. Ankles.

His hair is gathered up into a messy bun on top of his head.

He still has a smear of make up on one eyelid where it hasn’t washed off properly.

Steve knows exactly what he sounds like when he comes.

“Thanks man,” Eddie’s blushing. He’s rubbing the back of his neck. It reveals Eddie’s pale ribs. His dark hairy armpit-

Steve runs away before he does something stupid.

“Okay, so, step by step, no gory details please, what exactly happened last night, because I know damn well you didn’t spend the entire forty five minutes I was waiting hanging around in a gross bathroom.”

Steve sighs, rubs his forehead, then goes and gets them both refills.

“Coward,” Robin calls after his retreating back.

He’s refilling their cups with an honest to fucking god soup ladle out of the kitchen – avoiding the fly that has met it’s sticky end in what is, no doubt, highly toxic punch – when it happens.

“Hey man,” Steve is being addressed by an actual pimply teenager.

“Hey.”

“Nice car,” he sounds weirdly angry about it.

“Uhhh...thanks,” because Steve doesn’t know what the fuck else to say to a dude wearing a dungeons and dragons tee shirt over flaming basketball shorts. He has nothing on his feet. Outside. Steve represses a shudder.

“Look, you clearly have money, or whatever, and probably a fancy job and you’re like, forty-”

“Hey-”

“- or whatever, but this thing with Eddie, can you make it fast please? Dragging it out isn’t fair on him.”

Steve blinks. He’s getting a shovel talk from someone who probably doesn’t know what a VHS is.

Steve can remember playing video games with no save; if you were going to do it, you had to play the whole damn thing in one go. Steve didn’t have a mobile phone until he was fifteen. Steve is not going to take this.

“This ‘thing’ I have with Eddie is none of your business. Eddie can speak for himself-”

“No Eddie cannot speak for himself, because Eddie is the nicest guy I know and Eddie already thinks he’s in love. Don’t think I don’t see what this is for you, Eddie’s just another thing to play with until you get bored. Look at this place, look at us. Now look at you and you’re fancy friend over there,” the kid gestures and, yeah, alright, the difference is pretty obvious, “you wouldn’t be caught dead here, slumming it, if you weren't getting something out of it. Now hurry it along, Eddie only writes good stuff when he’s heartbroken. Which is a lot, by the way. We all know how this goes.”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I just got a shovel talk from a kid who probably shouldn’t even be drinking yet.”

“Ouch,” Robin takes her drink back, “how does that feel?”

Steve shrugs, “not sure, actually.”

Across the yard, Steve watches as Eddie gesticulates wildly and hisses angrily at the pimply face DnDer. He catches Steve watching. Eddie grabs the kid by the arm and drags him away.

“The burgers are burning,” Robin idly points out.

Steve sighs, he loves this polo, grease stains are a bastard, and the chances of finding an apron in this place are none existent.

At least Robin comes with him. She half unwraps some cheese and generally pretends to busy herself, slicing buns and stacking paper plates.

“So, last night?”

“Right,” Steve sighs through his nose, shuffling some onions around on the flat plate. “So I was just going to you know, get him.”

“Get your man tiger,” Robin purrs.

It shouldn’t be funny, but it kind of is. Steve laughs.

“But he just...grabbed my hand. And he said ‘Steve! Come and meet the guys!’ So I...did.”

“He introduced you to his friends,” Robin raises that lethal eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“And you went along with it?”

“Well I kind of...he didn’t let go of my hand so I kind of…”

Both of Robins eyebrows are now in the stratosphere. She appears to spend a few minutes digesting that, “and then you got invited to...this.”

Steve’s already dug half a hole, and he still apparently has the shovel in his hand, so he keeps going, “he was just so happy to see me,” Steve admits, quietly.

“Who is that?”

“Who?”

Robin grabs Steve by the hair and forcibly turns his whole head, “that.”

There’s a blonde girl talking to Eddie. She’s wearing a white tank top and daisy dukes, “no idea.”

“Come on, high time you introduced me.”

Steve really tries, but he cant hide the fact that he is delighted by this turn of events, “why, Robin Buckley! Oh how the tables have turned-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m going to make her cry.”

Part Five

[whtepony]

NSFW ALPHABET | eijiro kirishima

ft. eijiro kirishima x afab reader

warnings: no pronouns used but reader has a vagina, cucking, i think that might be it? this one isn’t too crazy y’all!! not proofread!

notes: for everyone who asked for kiri!!! he’s so husband material aghhhhhdbdndjdj hope u guys enjoy

aftercare: what he’s like after sex

i think he’s one of the most attentive partners you could have! he asks you directly what he can do for you while he’s cleaning you up a bit with a warm towel. he’ll give you anything you ask for, whether it be food, water, a shower, something funny to watch, or to just cuddle and be together. he likes to massage your hips while you spoon just in case he hurt you (even if you tell him a dozen times he didn’t). he just wants to make sure!!

body part: his fav on you and his fav on himself

on himself, eijiro likes his back and shoulders. he puts in a lot of time at the gym and it shows! he’s very proud of it and loses his mind if you compliment his back muscles. god damn. on you, he likes your legs - yeah, mostly your thighs, but really all of your legs. he loves when you wear things that show them off and has a tendency to kiss you from your ankles alllllll the way up before he eats you out. he has a picture of him laying between your thighs that was definitely his lock screen for a long while.

cum: anything to do with cum

eijiro is a smart man. unless you’re actively trying for a baby or it’s a really special occasion, he avoids cumming inside you so you have a lower chance of any surprises. but goddd if it isn’t his favorite thing in the world. he enjoys finishing on your ass or stomach but nothing compares to how it feels to paint your insides. he thinks it’s partly a possessive thing - seeing his cum drip out of you makes him feel like only he could ever do this, like he’ll be the only one to ever claim you that way. asks you soooo politely to take a picture on the few occasions it does happen and keeps them in a hidden folder that he opens when he’s missing you.

dirty secret: a dirty secret of his

he secretly would like to be cucked but doesn’t think it’d be emotionally healthy for him, so he never brings it up. he’s actually very possessive and probably couldn’t handle sharing you like that. but every once in a while, he’ll fantasize about watching katsuki fuck you in front of him, only to shake the thought from his head immediately afterwards. he’s more likely to bring up a threesome than to ever bring up this fantasy of his, because then he could be involved in some way - he’d have some sense of control then. as hot as it could be, he’s worried that his best friend would fuck you better!

experience: how experienced is he?

you’re definitely not his first, but there haven’t been very many before you. i’d say he’s probably had three or four previous partners and he clearly learned a lot from being with them! he’s a very attentive lover and a quick learner. he pays attention to what you like and don’t like, and he’ll check in with you often to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.

favorite position: self explanatory

he is a doggy and prone bone LOVERRR. literally anything that lets him look at and grab your ass. he’s an ass man and these give him a great view!! he loves how deep he can get in either position, and especially likes being able to put his full weight on top of you in prone bone. he won’t hurt you, but he knows you like being pressed up against each other like that and it gives him easy access to kiss your neck n talk in your ear. it also makes him feel hugeee bc he easily covers your entire body.

goofy: is he more funny or serious in the moment?

i think he’s a good mix of both! he loves to make you laugh but is capable of completely ruining you in the next second. he’s aware that sex is kinda funny sometimes and will take advantage of that (especially if something isn’t going as planned) but not to the point where it ruins the mood.

hair: anything to do with grooming

he doesn’t shave but keeps it in check. he keeps it trimmed fairly short and is pretty good about maintaining it, but he doesn’t mind shaving if you ask him to. he couldn’t care less about whether or not you shave bc either way he is IN THEREE. truly does not have a preference and will tell you how pretty you look no matter what. he just wants you to feel confident in yourself, so he likes whatever you like!

intimacy: how is he with the romantic aspect?

he is very tender and loving. not to be mistaken with gentle. he could be fucking the life out of you but you can still tell he’s doing it with soooo much adoration for you. this man worships the ground you walk on. he kisses every inch of your skin and tells you how incredibly beautiful you are to him because he means it! eijiro is the number one loverboy and plans out super romantic sex for anniversaries and your birthday. he’s the type of man to hit you with the trail of rose petals and candlelight before fucking your brains out just because he loves you!

jack off: anything to do with masturbation

he has a pretty high sex drive so depending on how much he gets to see you, he jerks off fairly often. he doesn’t like porn but has an album in his phone full of pictures you’ve sent him or the two of you together. sometimes if he knows you’re not busy but can’t be with you for some reason he’ll call you for phone sex because the sound of your voice helps him get off. bonus points if you’re touching yourself at the same time

kink: a kink of his

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. eijiro kirishima has a size and strength kink. he LOVES being bigger than you and showing off his strength in bed. a big fan of a mating press because it’s just so easy to fold you in half! even if you’re tall or plus sized he is so so strong and the way he handles you makes it seem like you’re tiny. he’s also like. huge. so you probably are small compared to him, no matter what. this extends to how big his dick is as well - he’s thick and seeing the way you literally stretch around him drives him insane.

location: his favorite place to do it

eiji just likes to have you in bed, away from anyone else’s eyes or other distractions. he likes having the space to kinda toss you around and wants you to be as comfortable as possible. he’s okay with other places around your place if you live together, but ultimately he’s gonna want to have you in bed, which also makes aftercare and cleanup easier!

motivation: what gets him going

uh, the wind? anything you do has this man bricked up. wearing his clothes? doing your makeup? talking? laughing? bending over? kissing him? he’s ready. everything you do is sexy to him. he does especially love when you initiate though; you coming to him and letting him know you’re in the mood will always do it for him. he likes to feel wanted by you, so tell him you want him! if you come up behind him while he’s doing something and start rubbing his shoulders while you whisper in his ear he will take you to bed as soon as humanly possible.

no: something he won’t do

i feel like he isn’t into degradation at all. he thinks it doesn’t feel natural and why would he want to be mean to you anyway? he doesn’t mean any of that, so why would he say it? the most you could get out of him is him calling you a slut or something but even then it takes some convincing and he’ll only do it if he’s absolutely positive you want it. he has moral qualms with slut shaming and doesn’t really like calling you anything in that vain 😭

oral: preference giving or receiving

d1 eater. munch. face seat. this guy loves eating pussy and genuinely could die happy between your thighs. he likes receiving, don’t get me wrong, but he absolutely adores making you cum on his tongue. he’s waking you up with it and putting you to sleep with it. if he grew facial hair he’d be one of those guys that has bleached patches because he is just alwayyyssss eating you out. he likes having you sit on his face and will pull you down onto his mouth if you start to lift your hips. argue with the wall he is a MUNCH!

pace: fast, slow, stamina, etc

i think his stamina is pretty average and he tends to go fast and deep. his strokes are consistent and he’s good at pacing himself so he won’t get too tired before he can make you cum. he never ever finishes before you because he’s a gentleman! he usually is done after one round but if you want more he’s happy to use his mouth and fingers until you’re satisfied.

risk: is he game to experiment or take risks?

he has no problem trying new things but it’s usually something brought up by you. he knows what he likes and doesn’t typically feel the need to switch things up unless you express that desire. he isn’t particularly risky (e.g public sex) but he’s happy to experiment privately! sometimes he’ll see a tiktok or tweet about something you haven’t tried together and send it to you in case it was something you were afraid to bring up. he wants you to be able to tell him about the things you’re curious about so you can try them together, and he isn’t particularly bothered if it doesn’t work out!

stamina: how many rounds can he go?

like i said he’s usually satisfied after one round but on occasions where he’s particularly excited or pent up he can go two or (rarely) three rounds. you guys have sex often so he usually doesn’t feel the need to go several rounds, and he also gets overstimulated pretty easily, so he needs a little bit of downtime in between!

toys: does he own toys? does he use them?

he owns one fleshlight from before you got together but hardly ever uses it. once in a blue moon if you’ve been apart for a long time he’ll bring it out but he usually doesn’t feel the need to. he doesn’t mind using toys together but i don’t think he necessarily goes out of his way to do so! but uh if he catches you using one he’s finishing you off with it before fucking you himself.

unfair: how much does he like to tease?

eijiro kinda spoils you but he doesn’t really care. in his eyes, you deserve it! he doesn’t tease you too much because if you even give him the slightest signal that you want something he’s folding immediately. he just wants to make you happy! he’s not a fan of orgasm denial, he much prefers to overstimulate you if anything.

volume: how loud is he?

like i said before he’s all in your ear lmao. i wouldn’t say he’s loud but he’s very vocal. he moans so so so pretty and gets louder when he cums. he’s fairly talkative as well, he tells you alllll about how good your pussy feels and how good you’re taking him. he’s capable of being quiet but why would he be? he wants you to know how good you make him feel so why would he ever hold it back? he doesn’t understand guys who are quiet in bed and never has. he loves to tell you how much he adores you when he’s giving you the dicking down of the century and he thinks it’s cute when you get all flustered from it!

wild card: random headcanon

he whines if you pull his hair. that’s it.

x-ray: what’s going on underneath those clothes?

whew. 6.7 inches hard and sooo thick and heavy. slightly thicker just below the tip. he has a few prominent veins and it’s so so pretty just like the rest of him!! his tip is slightly pink and tbh he leaks a lot of pre, especially when you start touching him. he’s just gorgeous. i can’t even explain it.

yearning: how high is his sex drive?

high!! his love language is physical touch and this definitely extends into your sex life. he’s crazy about you and genuinely always wants to be touching you. if you’re living together, you probably have sex four or five times a week on average; he specifically makes time for it, even if your schedules clash. he wants you to know how much he appreciates you and shows it through world ending orgasms

zzz: how fast does he fall asleep afterwards?

he gets a short little burst of energy directly afterwards, which he uses to clean up and get you taken care of in any way you might need. but honestly, he is crashing not long after. he puts a lot of effort in! once he’s sure you’re comfortable he is knocked tf out in minutes and sleeps like the dead. he gets great sleep because if you’re around, you’re basically fucking each other to sleep most nights!