#another moment of my thoughts running away with me!

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[illyrianslut]

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

Masterlist | Ao3

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I’m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

[semisasseater]

ᴄʜ-ᴄʜ-ᴄʜ-ᴄʜ-ᴄʜᴇʀɪsʜ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ !!

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childhood!best friend se-mi x fem! reader

Summary: you had the biggest crush on your childhood best friend the biggest, so what happens when you accidentally ask if you can kiss her when you were thinking about it?

Tw: fluff, pillow fights, romance tension, jealousy, wuh luh wuh, very little suggestive things, very very little angst ig if you squint, reader is just down bad.

authors note: ahh i really wanna become a writer now!! i hope you’ll like this though because my mind was BLANK butttttt any tips or suggestions or requests would be great!

Not proofread!

Word count: 576

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“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“What?”

Your head spun as you tried to process how you ended up in this situation.

You had a crush on Se-mi—a huge one—for as long as you could remember. Ever since elementary school, you admired her, but you always tried to brush it off as simple friendliness. After all, you were both girls. What if she wasn’t into girls? What if she never saw you as someone she could date?

Those questions lingered in your mind for years. The first was answered when she started dating a girl in eighth grade. You’d felt an unexpected surge of rage and jealousy when you saw them together. You wished more than anything to be in her girlfriend’s place, but life didn’t work that way. Now, years later, you were both in college, yet your feelings hadn’t faded. If anything, they’d grown stronger.

Every time another girl tried to flirt with Se-mi, your jealousy would flare up. You’d lie and tell people the two of you were dating or convince her not to hook up with them. Se-mi never questioned it. She always listened to you. Why? You didn’t know. Maybe it was because you were her best friend—or maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way you did.

“Se-mi can you help me with this math problem?” you whined, sprawled out on her bed with your face buried in her pillows.

She walked over, smiling as she ran her fingers through her messy hair. Plopping onto the bed beside you, she scooted closer and glanced at your laptop screen, giggling.

“Wow you really don’t know this?” she teased.

“Shut up! You know I’m terrible at math” you retorted, grabbing the pillow you’d been lying on and swatting her with it.

Laughing, she tried to block your attacks. “O-okay okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she said between bursts of laughter.

But instead of stopping, she grabbed a pillow and swung back. What started as a playful hit turned into a full-blown pillow fight, the room filling with the sound of laughter and giggles.

Eventually, you tackled her, pinning her down and crawling over her as you both laughed breathlessly. Exhausted, you flopped onto her lap, resting your head against her shoulder. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

Your thoughts wandered as her warmth surrounded you.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” you wondered aloud, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“What?” Se-mi asked, her voice soft but surprised.

Realizing what you’d said, your face flushed a deep red, and you scrambled to sit up. “O-oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that! I-I was just—”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Panic surged through you as you tried to explain yourself, but Se-mi’s grip on your waist tightened. Her free hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer.

And then she kissed you.

It was deep and passionate, her lips soft and warm against yours, fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been waiting for this moment. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hesitant; it was filled with unspoken emotions, affection, and love.

When she finally pulled away, your face was flushed a hot pink. She chuckled softly, running her fingers through her hair again, a habit you adored.

“So…” she murmured, pressing a finger to her lips. “How long have you been wanting to kiss me, pretty girl?”

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@semisasseater

[dollfacefantasy]

Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?

Absolutly love the way you write btw 🫶🫶

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3

"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."

your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.

it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.

he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.

the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.

but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.

"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.

he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.

"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.

your head shook back and forth now.

"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.

his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.

a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.

"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.

you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.

"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.

"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.

"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."

"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.

"uh huh," you moaned.

"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.

you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.

"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"

"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.

as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.

"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."

you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.

"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."

ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.

this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.

he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.

finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.

he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.

a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.

"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.

you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.

he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.

[16wheelerhorse]

Please please do a lando x ex!reader. Angst because hey’d broken up when she fell pregnant but he wasn’t ready. And now seeing her pregnant in the paddock is doing stuff to him. Eventually he can’t take it anymore and he fucks her…hard.

Burning By Design

pairing: Lando Norris x ex girlfriend reader (m/f)

rating: explicit

word count: 4,7 k

tags/warnings: smut, angst with a happy ending (maybe, maybe), toxicity, 3rd trimester pregnancy, unprotected sex (not recommended by author!!), rough sex (p.i.v.), pregnancy fetish (if you squint), 2nd person POV, past tense, no "y/n" or OC names used

a/n (header): title by shame. apologies for the wait. i have study related work. this might be as fast as i get. anyway, i really enjoyed writing this and am hoping for more requests - head to my pinned post :)

At first, he could not believe what he was seeing.

It was almost too stupid to process.

Perhaps, the A plot of a sitcom he had not consented to be part of. Perhaps, a form of divine intervention punishing him for blasphemy and pride, firmly guided by its own self-importance. More likely, a parasitic thought coming up from the basement of his mind to taunt him before the sprint. They like to wake up when there is light upstairs, when he is finally doing well again.

It immediately became clear that it wasn’t a dark daydream playing tricks on him, however. Nightmares are bold and unsparing, certainly not afraid of little Lando Norris. Certainly wouldn’t hide their face at their eyes meeting, wouldn’t try to scurry away.

As much as it irritated him, made him lose track of what he had planned before the race, he couldn’t let you run. Couldn’t let you get away with showing your face around the paddock again, putting yourself at risk of getting caught by the cameras before he could give you a warning. 

Lando didn’t have time to think about the consequences of the gossip that would ensue thanks to your caprice. He almost sprinted to you, capturing your arm in a firm grip.

“Hello?”

It rang loud in the heat of the moment, prompting the closest heads to turn to face the two of you.

“Lando,” you replied, volume low and tone as calm as you could muster, avoiding catching another glimpse in his direction.

You heard him exhale sharply behind you, hand travelling to the back of your neck, pressing on first vertebra he could feel beneath your skin. Continuing to walk, Lando led you to a quiet corner near the public bathrooms. He leaned in, breath ghosting past the shell of your ear. “May I ask exactly what brings you here of all places?”

His bratty tone triggered you even more than you had anticipated. You swallowed, keeping your expression stone cold. “I’m here to watch some racing. You know, one of the most normal things a person could be doing around here.”

He clicked his tongue, and you could sense him examining every detail of your appearance. Your parted lips letting a jagged breath escape. The oversized crewneck attempting to hide your enlarged belly, reminding him of the times when you used to borrow his clothes. Sunglasses to prevent you from being recognized, playing the same role as the unseen tint to your hair, arranged carefully with the intent to cover up the tattoo behind your ear - “I♡”, a Roman numeral. Lando couldn’t decide which detail hurt him the most.

“I see. Right after I lost the championship, which makes it all the more interesting, of course,” His words were laced with passive aggression, hand squeezing the skin around your spine. “So interesting you couldn’t, like, be satisfied with a screen… I mean, are you even allowed to travel, for fucks sake?!” He pressed a finger into the firmness of your belly.

You jerked away, finally turning to glare at him. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you mumbled, pulling down the hem of your sweatshirt. “Yes, I should be able to do so until week thirty-six. I’m healthy.”

Lando gave you a slow nod as he examined you, chewing on his lip. He seemed tense and somewhat worn out, the end of the year fast approaching, but it was the same man you had had on your mind for months. His eyes were soft and lively, with him sporting some light stubble on his face, same as when you had your last proper conversation; thick hair and eyebrows, a wild mess of curls you wished you could grab a handful of, even at that moment.

“Good,” he replied softly. “That’s a relief, then.”

You let out a cold laugh. “As of you give a fuck, suddenly.”

He straightened his back, drawing closer to you again. “It is still my baby,” he retaliated with a muted whine.

“In theory only. Which should be a relief to you. Now you have all the time in the world to be second.”

Disregarding your protest, Lando pulled you against himself, snatching away your sunglasses so that nothing was shielding you from his stare. “You bitch…!” He shook his head, almost as a warning. “Unlike you, I can be proud of myself.”

“Yeah...? Well. I ain't one to be controlling somebody's opinions. Good for you, Lando.”

No matter how well-intended your statement was - or wasn't -, it didn't fly with the boy in question. “I think you’ve said enough for today,” he gripped your arms tighter. His reply was full of contempt, with Lando making it clear his will to listen was much the same as his remaining respect for you. “I know why you’re here. You think you’re about to witness my downfall or something, that I’m getting weak. That you have a chance to embarrass me by any means possible.”

There was growing intensity to his voice, persistence. Lando didn’t process arguments like others would. He liked having an equal opponent to bounce off of, someone who could take his jabs and bite back. All because a part of him loved being bitten, torn down and mocked, so he would have a chance to see the vehemence in your eyes, hear the words picking him apart - so obsessed, so captured by the dance between you. 

And sometimes, it hit just right, the soft spot on his underside that made him lie back and revel in the pain. It was the easiest thing to do. Give up the fight.

This didn’t seem like one of those days, however. Lando really did appear to be standing stronger after Vegas. There were urgent flames starting to appear in his gaze, accented by the orange color of his suit. He was hell bent on proving you wrong. Judging by the way his hands lingered on the sides of your belly, they would have been all over you had you two been in private.

You kept your cool, raising an eyebrow at him. “That sounds like a lot of work. You must be mistaken. I’m minding my own business; you are the one trying to insert yourself back into it.”

“Your business? Like you are going anything except fuck all.”

“Yes, very serious business. I need to find a good man to support me and my baby. There should be plenty around here." Pause. "Still, I can’t be picking just anybody.”

Lando was cut off mid inhale. He looked over you with near disgust, his grip tightening as thoughts of someone else possessing you clouded his mind. It was always too easy to rile him up that way. Make him reveal many of his least sufferable qualities, intensify the competition he was always part of, with both others and himself.

“Ah-hah. Who do you have eyes on, then?” he kept presssing, tongue running over his lips. “Tell me.”

You ran over some names for a second. “Lewis.”

He let out a laugh with a note of played up cruelty in it, flashing his teeth. “Shut up. That’s way out of your league.”

“Okay. Then, hm. Why don’t you tell me who would piss you off the most?” you mocked. “Always beefing with men with way more integrity than you. Like a spoiled little chihuahua.”

You pulled at his waist, which was molded perfectly for your palms, until your stomach was pressed against the solid muscles under his suit. As you looked up, his eyes were already on yours.

What a waste of a pretty face he was.

“Well, who? Oscar? Max?”

His cheeks grew redder at a rapid rate. “Don’t drag them into this. They’re both happily taken.”

“Yeah? And did that stop you from leaving?” You smirked, keeping your ground. “No. As I said, being a real man isn’t for everyone.”

Lando's eyes darkened. “All that talk, it’s funny, you know that. I’m sure you do, yet you’re quite shit at admitting you’ve messed up. Don’t look at me like that…” he snapped at the face you made.

“All this anger can’t be good for your body.” His fingers were back on the side of your belly, stroking gently. “All that… freaking idiocy. You chose to bang a guy at the highest point of his career – so far. A guy who wasn’t even twenty-five then, a guy who’d just won his first race. And for what? For me to leave everyone behind? You had a fucking chance; you had a chance to abort-”

“Maybe if you hadn’t tried to push your money into my face. Crying about how I was trying to trap you? Seriously?”

“Okay, whatever excuse you had,” he scoffs, laying his hand on one of the arms holding his waist. “But don’t come to me pretending like I fucked everything up. When you let yourself get pounded by guy who isn’t even a real man…”

“Lando…”

“And you loved it.” His voice had gotten close to a whisper, gaze softly studying your wide-eyed expression. “You were obsessed… I shouldn’t be surprised you kept the baby, you always wanted a piece of me, right?” 

He smirked. “You still are, are you not? You missed me, it’s why you came. Just say it.”

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. A fuck-up. Even a fool like him could see right through you.

His words were dirty, and they cut you deep. You could never forget those days, the pinnacle of your love him for him. How he had held you as they were snapping him with white light, bleaching the red flags in the distance into a warm pink that took over your eyes.

You had made love that same night, and you had been careless. You had said too much, things too strong to ever take back. He hadn’t understood, but you were sure he could remember everything.

It was all your fault, falling too deep, too soon. 

“No,” you denied his claim, voice cracking.

“Yeeaah. Still obsessed with little old me…” he reached forward to pinch your cheek, grinning as if the battle had already been won. There was hunger in his eyes that made you flinch. “You want me the way I used to be. When nothing mattered as much as you.”

He could read what was on your mind through your eyes. The mirror of the soul.

Stupid fucking idiot. If only he were as dumb as people liked to think. 

“Yes…”

It was almost inaudible. “Say what?”

“Forget it, Lando. Just… forget about me. I’m sorry, I made a m-”

There was the soft pad of his finger pressing on your lips.

“Shhh…”

Lando smiled at you like a wild animal he’s managed to tame, a beauty he could take all to himself now.

You closed your eyes, expecting what was coming.

He replaced his finger with his lips when he was an inch away and pressed hard. His exhale was absorbed by your skin as he pushed you closer to himself with his palm on the back of your neck, not letting you escape. He didn’t hesitate to wet your lips with his tongue, try to part them while you held on, freezing at the sensation of a hand having reached for your breast.

You let out a sob and felt him grinning against you. His teeth nipped at your lip, impatient and commanding, bruising the delicate skin. You refused to open up.

Lando pulled away just far enough to inhale, clawing at the bra under your clothes that was preventing him from feeling your skin.

“What? You literally just showed me that I was right. You pathetic fucking girl.”

This mockery was delivered the form of a quiet purr, teasing but insisting you to stay. At that point, nothing could hide you from Lando’s obvious arousal, the struggle that was your haughty, self-defeating mind making adrenaline flow through his body, much like rivalry between drivers. But you were more gorgeous than any shining trophy or livery, so enticingly vulnerable, a canvas he could see his own work displayed on.

His eyes were impossible to meet. If it were feasible, you would have had him kiss you with them. Burn your skin with the intensity of his gaze, then sooth you with the dreams he held in them, the coolness of light and his beautiful shade of green. Scar you with the batting of his lashes until you lost the ability to bleed for anybody else.

“Lan, we can’t.”

“You’re fucking crying…” he pointed out, his chuckle low and deep, wiping any sincerity from your words. “Yeah, we can. We will.”

You swallowed. You had never felt so feeble yet so willing to be. “Take me somewhere. Touch me, please, I need you--”

A dirty smirk formed on his face, despite which you let him tug you to one of the toilets, refusing to acknowledge the setting and directing all of your attention to his lips. After he locked the door, you were pressed against the wall in an instant, one of his hands moving up to your face and the other struggling to pull up the layers covering your stomach.

Lando’s look was utterly lewd as your swelling lips wrapped around his index and middle finger, sucking all the way up to his metacarpals as you squeezed his wrist with desperation. Your pupils, wide and glimmering in the low light of the room, were firmly focused on the veins on the back of his large hand, with Lando helping you roll up his sleeve to reveal them running further down his forearm. 

You did not have the guts to face his insufferable grin. “Crazy, it’s all yours,” Lando laughed, conceited and mocking, reveling in the shameful thirst in your eyes. He looked down at his fingertips exploring the curve of your exposed belly, following their path with filth written all over his face. It was as if he’d discovered a muse, unexplored fertile land to roam and sow full of sin.

“Fuck,” he cursed, reaching lower to undo your jeans. You let Lando’s soaked fingers slip out of your mouth as your breath hitched, whimpering when his hand pushed aside your panties for a more enticing view. 

He ogled at your clit peeking through an unshaved bush, flushed warm pink and begging for his touch. His finger went to brush past it, making you gasp and bend, and disappeared between the soaked lips of your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, glancing up with a bright, teasing flame in his green eyes, a look that understood the obscenity you were about to fall in the arms of. “For me.”

The word was accented in a manner that made your cheeks burn red in shame. You didn’t think you could admit to the disgraceful act of falling for him again, accept the way your body was reacting to his voice, his touch, his presence. He had you in full control, all but on your knees begging to be taken.

“How does that make you feel, huh?” Lando was grinning, his hand leaving your heat to undo his collar and pull down the zipper of his racing suit.

Your teeth were gnawing at your bottom lip unconsciously, heart about to leap out of your chest in a plea it was unable to scream.“Uhm… I-I missed this…”

“Missed what?” Lando asked with feigned innocence. “This?” He guided your arm to the bulge nestled in his uniform, pressing it into your open palm. A laugh escaped him as he batted his eyelashes at you with a pleased smirk plastered all over his face. “To think it made you into this,” he drawled as his other hand trailed from your baby bump up to your chest, cupping one of your tits and squeezing hard. “Am I being stupid or have they gotten bigger?”

“Yes to both,” you sighed as he began removing your top and sweatshirt, sliding them over your head. Your clothes and bra were tossed on the floor without care as Lando’s pupils grew wider at the sight of your enlarged breasts and areolas. There were darker stripes forming on your tummy and visible veins painted your chest, which made you flush under his gaze as you looked down. “You fucking ass.”

Lando did not let that fly. His hand wrapped around your neck, with a finger supporting the chin lifting it up to face him. “Was that one of your wishes right there?”

“No,” you gulped, raging need taking over your brain and making you unable to consider your own words. Your clit was silently throbbing and walls crying out in pain, begging for a hard dick taking you and stretching them out. “P-please… I need it in my pussy, Lando.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, with a low sound resembling a moan escaping his throat. “Ohhh. You’re begging, and I didn’t even have to ask. Fucking begging for my cock…”

Lando said these kinds of things not only to rile you up further, but also to help convince himself that they were somehow – miraculously – real. Earlier that day, he could never have guessed what he, what you would come to – and he would have done anything to make it happen. Your words and the sight of you were raw power, adrenaline flooding his veins, a vain delicacy for his horny and famished body.

His hands were trembling in anticipation as he wrestled out of the top half of his suit, letting it hang limp around his legs, and pushing his bottoms just low enough to free his aching dick. You stared at it with all thoughts but one wiped from your head while he rushed to peel off his skin-tight shirt, letting it fall from his fingers as he looked over you with a smirk.

This was between you, him, and whatever devil had gotten the better of you. It had really come to that. Throwing away everything you had convinced yourself of to feel his flesh against yours, to taste the rush of blood you had been missing for oh so long.

He leaned in to kiss you again, every bit of his body buzzing drunk with lust, his tongue warm and sticky against your lips when he moaned inside your mouth. “I hope he or she is asleep. I wouldn’t want mini me to witness the shit I’m about to do to you.”

Pulling down your undone jeans with your underwear and guiding himself in with the other hand, Lando entered your weeping pussy, curse words and groans erupting from his throat as soon as he’d felt the heat inside you.

“Oh my fucking God,” he exclaimed in a choked cry, “you – oh my dear, my God, you…”

You two were complete and unsalvageable wrecks. The only thing you could do was hold onto your belly for dear life as he began thrusting in and out of your oversensitive cunt, nails digging into one of your ass cheeks and pulling to spread you open wider. In return, your hand flew to squeeze one of his pecs, capturing his nipple between your fingers. 

Lando was unceremoniously loud, with your own moans ringing out almost inaudible among his sounds and the wet noises filling the small space. “Ah, shit. Fuck. You’re, like… hotter inside. So, so fucking tight…”

Your hormones were rushing through your blood in silent triumph as he pounded you, each of his veins and the head of his dick bringing a distinct detail of the sensation. It didn’t take long before you were sore, so incredibly sensitive and weak against his raging body that you were trapped in a tight embrace with. You yelped and clawed as he hit your cervix, causing him to crush your shoulder in a death grip, startled.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Lando blurted out as he stopped, appearing dazed from the lack of air.

“Just spare my uterus, okay? The baby adds pressure from the inside,” you panted, leaning your head against his flushed, sweaty chest. “I feel like you’re crushing him, we’re too close into each other. Is there a…”

“You want me to take you from the back?” Lando breathed, running his fingers down your back with a dirty grin. “Oh, hell yes.”

You were bent over the bathroom sink, your arms folded to prevent you from slipping off the tiny surface, with Lando behind you with your hair wrapped tightly around his right hand as he groped one of your heavy hanging breasts with the other. He was obsessed with the sight, muttering such filth that it made you unable to open your eyes, to face the mirror mere inches ahead of you.

“Look at me.” His tone was derisive as he managed to stammer in between moans, tugging ruthlessly on your hair. You swallowed, turning your head to the side. “In front of you.”

Lando had, quite frankly and unfortunately, never looked as sexy before. His sweat soaked skin glimmered in the low light casting shadows that brought out his defined muscles and the cartilage in his throat accented with each gulp. His mullet had been turned into a wet, untamable mop of curls resting on the top of his head. Slick with tears, the almost girlish lashes framing his eyes appeared longer and thicker, unmistakably enviable.

Best and worst of all, despite of what had happened, despite the time that had passed, he was still yours. He fucked you like it meant something, cried out like it was the only thing that felt right, painted scars and bruises on your back as a reminder of your helplessness for him. One you will never cease to feel.

“Pathetic,” Lando mocked right in your ear, having laid the upper half of his body on top of yours, face buried in a heap of hair. “You’ve always been so fucking miserable for me.”

You responded with the loudest cry you could ever wish to let out, muted by his large hand covering your mouth, so overtaken by him that not a single cell of your body would have fought back. He expressed his approval with a deep thrust, showing you gratitude by moving his fingers to your swollen clit, swiping up and down with tiny, rapid movements.

“I love you. Fuck, I-… I need you so God damn bad. …I’m going to cum, I’m not stopping—"

He parted his fingers, letting you respond with a moan. “Yeah… Please, please just fill me, fill this pregnant fucking pussy…”

Your breath hitched as you cried out obscenities to your man, much like the filth that resulted in him getting you pregnant in Miami some months ago. Filth you could never abstain from, filth you could chant for hours as long as you were with Lando, merging your bodies as you were once again proving nothing on Earth was stronger than the material tying you together. You felt yourself growing weaker, unable to contain the pool of sensitivity having overtaken your intimates.

“I’m coming… Oh, Lando, holy fuck…”

Lando could feel your pulse through your cramping walls as you came, tightening around him again and again, milking his cock right inside you. He unloaded with a deep, tortured groan, whimpering as each wave of his orgasm punched him in the heart. It was everything he could ever have wanted and more. Your pregnant body warm and snug against his, crying out his name in love, so dependent on him it could be broken with one touch.

“Oh, my…. You’re just perfect,” Lando heaved, straightening his back, all shaky and weakened by the amazing finish you had gifted him. You watched his reflection he pulled out, slowly and with care, watching his cum trickle down between your folds all the way to your abused clit. He cleaned his softening cock by wiping the leftover filth off against your bush, praising you with a worshipful caress of your curves as he stuffed himself back inside his suit. 

A yellowish liquid was leaking from the breast he had taken in his hand. Lando stopped you in your tracks, leaning down to bury his face in between your tender boobs, his warm lips and tongue not shying away from making you clean.

You gasped. Lando was purring, holding you tight in his powerful arms. Looking.

He had wrecked and built you back up, all just to blow everything you were into bits again. Made you a mess. A goddess. A hopeless starving animal. All to himself, in his own eyes.

In that moment, he had all of you to worship and adore. And he wanted to believe he wasn't stupid enough to let you slip away anymore.

“You may feel free to call me any names you want for leaving." He began after a long, soothing pause. "I am, admittedly, a huge fucking idiot.”

Still panting , you looked into his eyes in the mirror, your spine crying out in pain as you attempted to stand up straight. His words had you wanting to laugh. “Really, Lando?”

“…Is there a problem?”

Hugging your belly, you suddenly registered feeling cold. He rushed to pick your discarded clothes off the floor, offering them to you. You stared. “I dunno. Isn’t it funny how it took one good fuck for you to want to repent?”

“I-”

“I know you missed me. But I’m more than what I used to be, much more, and I don’t think you’ll be able handle it. It’s as you said.”

Lando gripped your garments in his fist as his jaw muscles tensed. For a moment, he considered saying something he’d regret. “I know. I need some time to think. A lot, maybe."

"But I’ll be keeping you close in the meantime, yeah?”

He stopped you from grabbing your underwear yourself, instead motioning you to stretch out your arms so he could dress his woman with his own hands. This Lando was more gentle than any version of him you could remember. 

His palm was warm and protective against your abdomen, rubbing soothing circles as he helped you pull your pants up again. ““He”, you said?”

How hard he was trying. Not a winner amongst men, but it was him. One you wished you would never have to move on from.

For a vulnerable girl, it was easy to fall again. 

You sighed. “Yes. For the record, I haven’t decided on anything yet.”

Lando’s eyes lit up as he grinned. “I kind of wish he was here already. He would really… love… watching me drive.”

His smile slowly disappeared as panic set in. “Oh god. I’m such an idiot.”

“Oh really? Haven’t we discussed?” you smirked, watching as Lando hurriedly put his racing suit back into shape. “In any case, don’t use this information to rear-end a Williams or a VCARB before the end of the season. This stays between us for now.”

“Okay, damn,” Lando pushed your shoulder playfully, adjusting his collar in the mirror and making sure his mullet wasn’t looking too shabby. You snuck your hand inside his hairdo, messing it up again. You had to. “Fuck you. This is all your fault. That pussy was so good I lost track of time.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “Weak.”

Lando turned to you one last time before unlocking the door, a wicked smirk plastered across his face. You didn’t have to wait for each other to lean in. It felt longer than a lifetime while you were kissing and shorter than a moment after he pulled away, your fingers still lost somewhere between his curls. His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings as he gave a look to the brightest, smallest facet of his family.

“I gotta sprint, dear.” He gave you puppy-dog eyes. “You’re staying, I hope.”

You nodded. Lando reached for the hand in his hair, squeezing it in one of his. “Come watch with my mum! She can't stop asking me questions. Please.”

“But-”

“I want her to know. Don’t hide it. I ought to be a man.” He grinned, lifting your interlocked fingers up to his lips. 

Perhaps a ring was too early. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps it would never happen.

But in that moment, a kiss was more than enough.

For that weekend, he would stay.

“I’ll do you proud, okay? Let’s go.”

That weekend, you felt like you were doing to be alright.

🧡 a/n (footnote): as you may know, in the sprint following the events of this fic, he returned the favor to oscar by letting him pass, which made many people warm up to him again. he would have made me very proud :) i hope this was at the very least not terrible, as i haven't finished a proper chapter or oneshot in quite a while. i literally never like my own works after finishing, so please let me know what you think! any corrections are welcome! i strive for accuracy and studied lando's speech quite a bit while writing. thank you for reading and have a good one loves!

[to-the-stars8]

Affairs and Letters

Jason Todd x Reader Regency AU! AO3 Chapters

Part XIV

Mr. Todd had entered the library to use the desk tucked away in a corner near a window that provided ample light and privacy. He intended to respond to the letter you had given him during your last meeting, but all though doing as much vanished upon entering the library. Much to his astonishment, he had happened upon Ms. Gordon and Dick in an intimate embrace. 

“Please, excuse me,” Jason mumbled as he began to leave.

“No, Mr. Todd,” Ms. Gordon interjected. “I was about to take my leave. Good evening, Mr. Grayson…Mr. Todd.” 

Truly, Jason felt as though he could laugh. Oh! What an intrigue that his brother, always so proud and sure of his image, had begun an affair. Jason never assumed he and Dick could be alike, but only proved otherwise. 

The moment the door closed behind Ms. Gordon, Mr. Todd turned to his brother for an explanation. “Ms. Gordon looked rather flushed today. More so than a simple hug might entice.”

Richard did not entertain his brother’s japes and picked up a book from one of the shelves in a poor attempt to distract his brother. When that failed to persuade him to find another topic of conversation, he finally admitted to entertaining Ms. Gordon’s fancy for him. After the Kent’s visit, Barbara and her father called on the family. It was then that she admitted to having strong feelings for Dick, and, after seeing she could be a good match for him, decided it would be best to delight in her pleasure. 

“Not very gentlemanly of you, brother,” Jason remarked, rather surprised. 

Dick was never one for settled fancies, especially when the attention from ladies came so easily to him, but to outwardly play with a polite lady’s emotions was another. Yet, Jason would not put much effort into abusing his charms past his elder brother. 

“You should not speak of gentlemanly behavior when you are meddling with a scullery maid,” Dick said playfully. 

Joke or not, Mr. Todd did not take it lightly and politely asked his brother to refrain from speaking about you as much. Even going as far as to correct him of your title, and, even if you were a scullery maid, it would not sway his affection for you. 

“I must have been mistaken, for I truly thought you liked her,” Jason said confidently. 

Dick dismissively waved his hand. “I like her plenty. She is a good woman with attributes that will land her a more advantageous marriage than she should have.”

The words could not form on Jason’s tongue as he was profoundly put off by the idea of you marrying anyone else. Anger bloomed in his chest, and Jason felt he could hit his brother at that very moment. “You speak of scullery maids, but what of the actress you were entangled with? Kori, was it?”

Dick’s anger was a quiet, seething one that would boil before it exploded. “I have no contact with that lady, so I recommend that you keep her name out of your mouth,” He said curtly. 

Jason scoffed, “It is equally unjust that you push yourself upon a young lady without the slightest bit of affection for her! It will only end with both of you miserable.”

“I am making the best of my situation by not being blinded by the fantasy of running off with a woman that would not only be my ruin but hers as well! You should do your best to remember that next time you get lost in the woods.”

“Shut your mouth!” Jason was momentarily concerned of how he could have heard of such a rumor before a distraction came bounding through the library doors.

“Why are you two shouting!” 

Both boys turned toward the door to see their father standing there with Miss Kyle on his arm. They sheepishly recoiled from their argument, if only for Miss Kyle. Quarrels in front of their father would be no cause of embarrassment, though it involved a topic neither brother would like to loudly admit, but in front of a guest? That would be a source of shame for them. 

“Forgive us, father,” said Mr. Grayson. “Jason and I simply disagreed on a topic, it got out of hand.”

“Yes, we heartily disagreed on it,” Jason gritted out. 

The two of them shared a glance, the momentary stare held with such fury and second-lasting hatred, before leaving to go their separate ways. Jason finished his letters to you in his room, slightly disgruntled that he could not have sat in the library. Only the thought of your face upon receiving his letter truly soothed him. 

Richard was a shallow, miserable man that Jason could hardly hold an opinion of. No, in fact, he would be quite content to never see his brother again. Just the simple image of Dick’s face in his mind made his stomach turn with irritation. 

You deserved to be admired for your skills, wit, and beauty. Attributes that Jason was sure Dick admired in Kori as well, and possibly even Barbara if the evil fiend could ever act reasonably. 

While Mr. Todd found solace in your letters, he was not so content in simply sitting idly in hopes of encountering you again. Jason, in the hope of running into you, thought he could take his horse out for a ride near Kent House. 

When Jason shrugged on the riding coat Alfred had chosen, he made an irritated sound. Mr. Wayne had ordered identical coats for him and his sons, and they would often be mixed up with the other’s coat. In this case, Jason had put on Dick’s. It was tighter against his body, fitting snugly and being much shorter in length than he was used to. 

Removing the coat, Jason discarded it on his bed. No sooner had it landed did a piece of paper tumble from the pocket. Curious, Mr. Todd picked it up. To his shock and indignation, it was a letter from Kori to his brother. 

In it entailed sweet nothings and references to his last letter, which seemed to have been sent no two weeks earlier. A wanton love affair written in words but buried beneath lies and deception. Enraged, Jason threw the letter down and returned to his desk. Dipping his quill into the ink bot, not caring for any blotches in his haste, he began to write. 

My dear friend, Miss Gordon…

[ducksido]

Comforting Deuce

The sound of cheers and applause still echoed faintly in the distance as the track and field competition wrapped up. Deuce Spade, usually brimming with energy and determination, trudged back toward the Ramshackle Dorm with his head hung low. His uniform was smeared with dirt, his hair slightly disheveled from the effort he’d poured into the race.

Y/N waited for him just outside the dorm, their heart aching at the sight of his downcast expression. The once-confident boy now looked defeated, and they knew he’d be taking the loss harder than anyone else.

As soon as he saw Y/N, Deuce tried to muster a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey…” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Deuce,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You gave it your all, didn’t you?”

“I thought I could win this time,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I trained so hard, but… it wasn’t enough. RSA just keeps outpacing me. I let everyone down.”

Y/N shook their head firmly. “You didn’t let anyone down. You gave it everything you had, and that’s what matters. I’m so proud of you, Deuce.”

His blue eyes flicked to theirs, searching for sincerity in their words. Seeing nothing but warmth and love, his shoulders slumped as he let out a shaky breath. “It still feels like I failed…”

Without a word, Y/N reached up and wrapped their arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Deuce hesitated for a moment before burying his face in their shoulder, the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“You’re not a failure,” Y/N whispered, running their fingers gently through his hair. “You’re my Deuce—kind, hardworking, and full of heart. That means so much more to me than any competition.”

He let out a quiet sniffle, holding them a little tighter as the weight of his emotions began to ease. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to his temple, then another to his cheek, and finally one to his lips, lingering just long enough to make his heart flutter despite his earlier sadness.

“Y/N…” he murmured, his voice steadier now. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to do anything without me,” they replied with a smile, cupping his face in their hands. “We’re in this together, okay?”

Deuce nodded, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. “Okay.”

They spent the rest of the evening cuddled on the worn-out couch in the Ramshackle Dorm. Y/N’s presence was a balm to his wounded pride, their kisses and gentle words reminding him that he was enough, no matter the outcome of any race.

And as the moonlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow over them, Deuce realized that as long as he had Y/N by his side, he could face any challenge that came his way.

[thanosspills]

Hii I love ir stories btw, anyways could I request a Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x fem reader? Like where they were together but are broken up again and made up again and Thanos lied that they would only play one more game so they broke up again as Thanos tried to let her stay but to no use and them They joined Gi Huns group and Thanos was jealous of how close Daeho was to us and during a game and all that (either Dae ho or someone it doesn't matter but tyy anyway)

HOT & COLD

THANOS/CHOI SU-BONG X FEM READER (SFW)

thank you for your request! since nsfw wasn't specified i went ahead and wrote something sfw. hope you like it!

warnings: just the usual squid game violence, reader and thanos take the pills together, mentions addiction

bit of a thanos ooc, he's more of a softie for the sake of this plotline!

You had just taken your photo, following the people confusingly walking ahead of you. You look around, taking in the peculiar pastel room. So many questions ran through your mind, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar voice. "Flower!" Thanos ran over to you pushing through the sea of people in matching tracksuits. He grabs both of your hands, holding them in his and stroking his thumb across them. "I'm so happy to see you senõrita!" You let out a sigh of disbelief. Your eyes run across your exe's face. You hadn't seen Thanos in three months, and god did you miss him. You missed that voice, the annoying nicknames, his touch. You shamelessly let go of his hands and pull him into a hug. He squeezes you back without hesitating. You finally reply, "What the hell are you doing here?" Thanos is silent for a second, and his voice quiets, "I was uh..I was out and that guy with the business card came up to me. Did you get one too?" You pull out of the hug and look into his eyes again. You can't help but faintly smile, "Yeah, I did." you glance around, "This place is weird. It creeps me out." Thanos throws his arm over your shoulder, "Who cares, we're getting a 'handsome cash prize' remember?" He optimistically quotes one of the guards dressed in pink jumpsuits. The reminder still doesn't help how anxious you're feeling. Noticing this, Thanos glances down at you and squeezes your shoulder, "Don't worry my flower, I won't let anything happen to you." The warm blood splattering across your face made your heart drop to your feet. Your body went numb as you looked at the corpse of the girl in front of you. She was laid out on the sandy-ground, the bee that led to her death flying around the bloody hole going through her forehead. "DON'T MOVE!" the crazy man shouts again, only now you're realizing he was telling the truth about the game this whole time. "Green light!" The doll chimes and faces away from the crowd of people. Everyone stays frozen, just as shocked and scared as you are. You feel a grip on your hand. Thanos holds onto it tightly and stares forward. He's shaking, silently panicking. The voice of the now not-so-crazy man tells everyone they need to keep going. At the next green light, Thanos opens his cross and pops one of the colorful pills he keeps in there. He grabs another and turns to you, holding it up to your mouth. You immediately open it as he gently places the pill on your tongue. You felt like a hypocrite, part of why you broke up with Thanos was because of the drugs. You definitely weren't proud of the fact you'd taken the pill, but you knew it was something you couldn't refuse in the moment. Once the drug kicked in a couple minutes later, the rest of the game flew by in a blur. You and Thanos were just laughing like idiots and jumping around until you got to the finish line.

You were back at the dorms and the high had quickly worn off. A dark, looming feeling of fear radiated throughout the room. You and Thanos sat next to each other in silence, his arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. "You okay?" You ask in a low, gentle tone. "Don't worry. I'm okay." He responds, staring at the wall. The guards in pink jumpsuits enter the dorms and everyone instantly begins to panic. You feel Thanos's grip on you tighten. Some players fall to their knees and beg the guards to spare their lives, the whole room is overcome with desperation and chaos. "Consent clause number three." An echoing voice cuts through the commotion, "If the majority of players agree to stop playing, the games will be terminated." You look over and instantly recognize it's the same man who helped everyone through red light green light. The guards confirm that everyone will get to vote to stop the games, but before the voting begins, the players get to see how much prize money has been accumulated. You look up as a super-sized gold piggy bank descends from the ceiling, filling up with stacks of won. You and Thanos stand up, but the only thing you can do is shake your head in disgust at the sight of it. Each stack of cash was a player's life. You look over at Thanos, his expression is almost blank, but you notice a slight glimmer in his eyes.

Everyone's huddled together, each person waiting on their number to be called out so they can cast their vote. Thanos glances down at you, "Flower, I need to talk to you." You nod your head and he pulls you into the back corner of the crowd. He stares at your eyes for a second and smiles, cupping your face in his hands. "I've missed you." You shyly smile back and part your lips to respond, but Thanos cuts you off with a kiss. You lean in, melting into it. Thanos quickly escalates it from gentle to passionate, dominating your lips. God you missed him so much. It seemed impossible to imagine being apart again. Thanos breaks out of the kiss, frantically saying, "I want things to be better for us when we get out of here. I can't stay away from you any longer, senõrita." He glances back up at the piggy bank and smiles, as if inspired. "This money, it can change everything. It can fix us." Your face wilts in disappointment. The money could fix us? The memories of the last few months of you and Thanos's relationship came back to you. Thanos's career was taking off, and you were always his biggest supporter. You'd go to every show, he'd always run backstage and kiss that proud smile of yours after he was done performing. The drugs came with the job, and it was something you'd do together for fun. Then Thanos forgot his lyrics and ran off stage on the finale of a live competition. After that, he completely spiraled. The drugs were something he became reliant on, it was like he couldn't breathe without them. The irresponsibility, the impulsivity, you'll never forget the day you found out he invested everything he had into bullshit crypto. Even then, breaking up was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, and you spiraled too. Your eyes start to fill with tears at the reminder. You quickly compose yourself, inhaling sharply before finally responding, "You think blood money is gonna fix 'us'?" Thanos grabs both of your hands and strokes them, "Don't think about it like that. This is an opportunity. We can start a new life together." You shake your head and hold onto his hands tighter, "Thanos we're not doing this." "I've missed you too, and I want us both to get out of here so we can talk about." He stares back into your eyes, and you truly can't tell what he's thinking. "Player 230." The pink guard calls his number, and he slowly slides his hands away from yours as he walks up to the blue and red buttons. Your eyes pierce through the back of his head, and a sinking feeling trails through your stomach. The button chimes, and Thanos is handed a blue patch. The side of those who voted to stay just gained another player. Thanos immediately tries to run over to you once the vote is over. "Flower please, let's talk now." "You really think leaving here with only 20 million is worth it?" He asks. You stomp over to him and grip the patch attached to his jacket, "What the hell are you doing Su-bong?" "How could you put a price on almost dying?" Thanos sighs and shamefully looks at the ground. You can tell he doesn't know what to say. You break the silence, "We can talk later." You quickly walk away before he can get another word in.

The next game requires teams of 5. You're determined to join a team before Thanos can find you and beg you to join his. You knew you'd have trouble saying no to him, and you needed space. You look around the room and recognize the guy that had announced he'd played the games before. Although you're still unsure of what he's even doing here, he saved people in red light green light and tried to sway the vote so everyone could leave. He seemed like the most trustworthy person here. You walk up to his group, they needed one more player. "Excuse me-" You're interrupted when you suddenly get shoved into by a random guy, he frantically pleads to the group, "No pick me! You'll probably need men anyway!" "Not some weak little girl!" You scoff and step toward the babbling idiot, "That's pathetic. If anyones showing weakness it's you." "Look at you, begging like a desperate little boy." The man snaps his head toward you in disbelief, "What'd you say you fucking bitch?!" He cocks his fist back, and player 001 immediately throws himself between the two of you, shoving the man onto the ground. You watch as player 001 looms over the man, staring at him with malice in his eyes. The man clumsily stands up and frantically runs into the crowd of people. Everyone already saw player 001 kick Thanos's ass earlier after Thanos had tried to start a fight with the crypto scammer. No one wanted to mess with him after that. "Thank you." you say. Player 001 nods, "Don't mention it." You faintly smile, "So were you guys looking for one more?"

You're sitting with your teammates and anxiously watching other teams go through the penthalon. You volunteered to play ddakji, you were pretty good at hustling the recruiter and felt the safest with that. "I've never met a girl that doesn't know how to play gonggi." The boy next to you teased. "I've never met a boy that does know how to play gonggi." you teased back. He chuckled, "Maybe we're both kinda weird then." "I'm Dae-ho. I never got your name." "I'm Y/N" you respond. He smiles, "You were really brave earlier, you totally shit talked that guy." You both giggle with each other, making fun of the man that nearly socked you in the face. You glance around the room as you laugh and your eyes meet Thanos's. He looks away from you, and his stare shifts toward Dae-ho. Thanos's team was up, and your heart sank. You leaned in and anxiously watched as they started the race. Thanos looked way too excited to be there, chanting and dancing. It was obvious he took more drugs. Thankfully his team moved through each game quickly, and Thanos kicked the jegi flawlessly. "WOOOOOH!" He cheers and throws his arms into the air. He scans the room looking for you, and he blows a kiss once his eyes land on yours. "I'm doing this for you senõrita!" At the corner of your eye, you see your whole team leaning forward, looking at you. The pink finish line snaps as you and your teammates walk through it. The wave of relief crashed into everyone, and as your team walks back into the dorms you hug each person. You go in and hug Dae-ho, but it only lasts a second when you feel a light tug on your shoulder. "The fuck is going on?" Thanos shouts as pulls you close to him and throws his arm around your shoulder. Dae-ho cuts in, "What the hell are you doing dude?!" "Leave her alone!" He begins to walk toward Thanos, and Thanos takes a step forward, decreasing the distance. He gives Dae-ho a shit-eating grin, "Who said you could touch my flower?" Everything was escalating so quickly, and you were taken aback by Thanos talking about you so possessively. You felt stupid admitting it, but fuck, you liked it. Dae-ho turns around and looks at the rest of your team, then back at Thanos. "I'd back up if I were you. Young-il already kicked your ass once." Thanos drops his smile, and you quickly run between them before things get worse. "Stop being ridiculous Su-bong. I'm still alive because of these guys." Thanos looks down at you, the sight of your face making him crack an unexpected smile. He tucks your hair behind your ear before softly asking, "Why didn't you join my team?" You sigh and grab his hand, "Come on, we can talk." As you lead Thanos away, you turn around and face Dae-ho and the rest of the guys, who look almost comedically confused. You walk to a corner with Thanos, and he crashes his lips onto yours, this time completely possessively. He lightly grips the back of your hair, eager to gain more control over the kiss. You match his passion, the desperation of the situation you were in together made you never want to let go. You finally pull away, and Thanos stares over at Dae-ho. "Who the hell were those guys?" He asks. "My friends." You grab his chin and move his face so his eyes are back on yours. He folds his arms. "I don't like it when you hug your friends." "Well I don't like it when you vote to stay." You shoot back. Thanos grips both of your arms and leans down to your level,"I just want to give you the life you deserve, senõrita." "One more game." He whispers, and plants a kiss on your forehead. Fuck. What were you gonna do?

sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed, i didn't want to drag out the story too much. please send in requests, depending on the request i'm totally open to doing multiple parts i just felt this one should be wrapped up quicker.

thank you for reading!

[lil-quinnie]

She's Thunderstorm | Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

WC ~ 1690k

Warnings ~ drug use, idiots in love

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆　 　˚　　Maybe there's another part, I really enjoyed writing their dynamic, .   　　˚　✭　 　they're such idiots. Let me know if you like <3 　.   　　˚　✭　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　　　 　　 　　　　

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡──

It was normal for Eddie to arrive at night in a dark trailer; Wayne had already left for work, leaving behind only a wisp of smoke from his red Marlboro.

On days like this, when everything that could go wrong absolutely did, he was grateful for the darkness and silence that surrounded him.

First of all, the assholes from the basketball team made a big deal out of tearing up the notebook with the freak's notes on campaigns and new songs, and he could only look on in horror from the floor as he was kicked and punched. He managed to grab a few pages while running from his inquisitors at least.

Of his pack of cigarettes, which usually saved him in moments of rage like that, only nostalgia remained.

Rick hadn't yet called him to replenish the week's stash, so the devil's lettuce was also out of his reach. “Fuck... my... life,” he whispered to himself.

The trailer park was so quiet on that freezing full-moon night that Eddie swore the sound of his tired body banging against the old sofa cushions echoed throughout the whole neighborhood.

He lay there, staring at the peeling roof of the trailer, imagining a thousand different scenarios of a normal life when the sound of breaking glass snapped him out of his trance.

He couldn't understand what was being shouted from the trailer next to his. He could hear you trying to defend yourself from the daggers escaping your relatives' mouths, a loud knock from your front door, and then—silence again.

He took a deep breath and jumped up from the sofa, rummaging through Wayne's things until he found the older man's spare pack of cigarettes.

He put on his sneakers, fished out two jackets from the pile of clothes waiting to be folded, and went to look for his best friend.

Eddie walked through the woods, the crunch of frozen leaves under his boots sounding louder in the eerie silence. Doubts plagued him with every step. What if she wants to be alone? What if I make things worse? But the thought of you sitting out there in the cold, trying to piece yourself together after yet another fight, wouldn’t let him stay behind.

And then, as if guided by instinct, he found you.

The forest opened up, and the moonlight painted your silhouette with silver. You were sitting at a rickety picnic table, your face lit by the faint glow of a cigarette. Eddie stopped in his tracks, momentarily struck dumb. She’s gorgeous, he thought before he could stop himself.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps, your voice breaking the tension. “Couldn't sleep either?”

He smirked, lighting his cigarette as he approached. “Nah, you know me. I'm a night crawler,” he replied, flicking the lighter closed with a dramatic flourish.

You laughed, the sound cutting through the stillness. “I'm sorry if they woke you up. I hope you didn’t hear too much.” Your tone was sheepish, your gaze darting away as you spoke.

“Hey, sweetie, with all due respect, shut up, okay?” he teased, pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it between your lips. His fingers brushed against your chin as he lit it for you. “Courtesy of Wayne Munson.”

You smiled despite yourself, but your amusement faded when you noticed the bruise blooming on his jaw and the split in his lip. “Who did this?” you asked, reaching out before you could stop yourself. Your fingers gently tilted his face toward the moonlight, inspecting the damage.

Eddie froze under your touch, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he thought about telling you everything—about the basketball team, about the humiliation—but he didn’t want to see pity in your eyes. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, pulling back. “Don’t make that face. I’m fine.”

you suddenly stood up, grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him towards the baby-blue trailer.

The walk was short and silent. Eddie didn't say anything, and you didn't know if he was frightened by your sudden determination or annoyed at having lost his cigarette. Maybe both.

Back at your trailer, the silence between you grew heavier. Eddie sat on the counter, watching as you rummaged through the medicine cabinet. He tried to distract himself, cracking jokes and throwing exaggerated sighs every time you found another item to clean his cuts.

Eddie stared at you, his mouth opening slightly as if he wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—how your laugh made even the worst days bearable, how your kindness felt like warmth in his cold, chaotic world, how much he wanted this moment to never end.

But instead, he said, “Thanks, nurse. You really have a way with first-aid kits.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips tugged upward. “Don’t flatter yourself, Munson. I’ve patched up worse.” Your tone was teasing, but there was a softness in your expression that betrayed your words.

Eddie chuckled, the sound low and rough. “Well, aren’t I lucky to be part of the VIP patient list?”

You shook your head and put the first-aid kit back in the cabinet, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. He always had this effect on you—his jokes, his crooked smiles, the way he seemed to care without ever saying it outright. But it didn’t matter, you told yourself. 

You rolled your eyes, your hands steady as you dabbed alcohol on his split lip. “You’re such a baby,” you teased.

“And you’re a perfectionist,” he shot back, but there was no bite in his words. He was too focused on the way your fingers felt against his skin, too distracted by the concentration etched on your face.

“There,” you said, stepping back to admire your work. “Good as new. Well… almost.”

Eddie hopped off the counter, smirking. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll try not to get my ass kicked again anytime soon.”

You chuckled, but the sound didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Eddie… you don’t always have to fight back. You know that, right?”

He stiffened, the joking demeanor slipping for just a moment. “Yeah, well… it’s not that simple.”

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight in your voice made him look at you. For a fleeting second, he wondered if you saw right through him—if you knew how much he cared about you, how much he hated seeing you hurt. But then you smiled, and the moment passed.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡──

Eddie was leaning against his van in the school parking lot, fiddling with his guitar pick, when one of the cheerleaders—Amy—approached him. She was all high ponytail and glossy lips, her smile sharp as she tilted her head, laughing a little too hard at whatever joke Eddie had just made.

You were walking toward the van, lunch tray in hand, when you saw her. She rested a hand on his arm, her long nails lightly tapping against the leather sleeve of his jacket, and leaned in closer to whisper something. Eddie’s face was amused, but not exactly warm—not in the way you knew him.

Your steps faltered. What was this? Since when did cheerleaders talk to Eddie "The Freak" Munson? And why the hell was he letting her stand so close?

Eddie caught sight of you just as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. His posture immediately changed; he straightened up like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Hey, sweetheart!” he called, his voice loud enough to cut through the chatter of the lot. He stepped away from Amy, who turned to look at you with narrowed eyes, her perfectly glossed lips pursed.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever that was,” you said coolly, though your stomach twisted at the way she had been standing so close.

Amy smirked but didn’t linger. “See you later, Eddie,” she said with a wink, brushing past you as she flounced off toward the school.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “She was just asking about the band. Nothing serious.”

“Oh, sure,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You knew your voice was too sharp, but you couldn’t help it. “She looked really interested in your music. Probably wanted to discuss song lyrics while clinging to your arm.”

“Are you jealous, sweetie?” Eddie teased, his tone light, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—hope, maybe?

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “In your dreams, Munson.” You pushed past him, heading toward the van.

Eddie followed closely behind, quickening his pace. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said, his voice softening. “You know you’re my favorite.”

That stopped you in your tracks. You turned, your heart betraying you with a sharp jolt at his words. “Your favorite what, Eddie?”

He froze for a moment, his eyes darting between yours like he was searching for the right answer. But the tension broke when he gave you his signature grin, playful and infuriating. “My favorite pain in the ass, obviously.”

You groaned, shaking your head, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Idiot.”

Eddie opened the van door for you, bowing dramatically as he gestured for you to climb in. “After you, my lady.”

As you got in, you stole a glance at him. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his messy curls framing his face, that ever-present mischievous spark in his eyes. For all his teasing, there was something genuine in the way he looked at you, something that made your stomach flip.

And for a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind his antics. But you pushed the thought aside, as you always did, not wanting to risk ruining the delicate balance of whatever this was.

Eddie hopped into the driver’s seat, cranking up the volume on his mixtape as the van roared to life. The two of you fell into your usual rhythm of banter and laughter, but the echo of his words—“you’re my favorite”—lingered in your mind longer than you wanted to admit.

[cbk1000]

Here is another preview of that sequel to the fic where two morons run around in the Yorkshire countryside not cottoning on to the fact that they have enormous crushes on one another:

By the time they had made themselves appropriate for public consumption, meaning that one of them was no longer sporting some sex hair, and the other was sporting no more than a manageable semi, the usual suspect had arrived, though they had driven all that way in sunlight. It was not like one of those ghastly outings on the moors, where the rain was driving as hard as the plough horse; this was one of those considerate rains, which had laid itself like a filter on the landscape. It had blurred out what was hard or no-nonsense about the land, and made it a thing which was for that frivolous purpose of beauty: in the lake was a watercolour of the castle, and beyond it the oak trees which might have been stern in their aeons were now like approachable elders. There was no naked eye which could fathom where the grounds were ended; and in the midst of them it seemed like all the world went on like that, that they had gone from that quiet civilisation through which they had driven in the daytime to this utopia in the gloaming. It was not yet noon; but already the world seemed to be on the cusp of itself; to be in the grey rainlight melting back into that land which is shortly to be under the moon.

“Hold hands, or no?” Merlin asked, shrugging on his jacket, which he did by getting in one arm reasonably enough, and then flapping about like a moron seeking the other. 

“For God’s sake,” Arthur said, and stuffed it in for him, and then, clearing his throat, answered the question by grabbing Merlin’s hand with a minimal secretion of sweat; then he saw his father coming across the lawns, and made a liar of the previous clause.

“I’ll bite him in a heartbeat; just say the word,” Merlin said under his breath, and then his father and the man he was walking with were within earshot, and Arthur was not certain whether to clutch or drop Merlin’s hand. There was an impulse almost to throw it; and with a bloody-minded grimness he held onto it, feeling it was the only thing anyone would see in all that beauty. His father’s face tightened, and smoothed; and he said to his companion as all four stopped, “David, this is my son, Arthur, and Arthur’s friend. Arthur, this is David, the groom’s father.”

“This is Merlin, my boyfriend,” Arthur said stiffly through his teeth. 

David took it neatly in stride; and said without any acknowledgement of Uther’s omission or Arthur’s resentment, “You’re Lisa’s cousin, then? Nice to meet you both. Are you the veterinarian chap? I thought Lisa mentioned Arthur was dating a vet.”

“Yeah. I work for a surgery in Emberford. It’s my uncle’s practice; I moved down a year and a half or so ago to take over a lot of the livestock work, since he’s starting to get on a bit.”

“Well, listen, not to bother you on your holiday, but we’ve brought our dog, actually, my wife and I, and she seems a bit poorly this morning. Would you mind taking a look?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Thanks; Uther, nice chatting with you, but I’m going to nip in and steal these blokes for a moment. Sorry, my wife just adores her, and she’s been fretting all morning.” And he broke off from Uther’s side, and settled in at theirs. They went striding away in the mist, which was beginning to style Merlin’s hair though he himself hadn’t bothered; and as they left his father behind, Merlin began to trot out the usual line of questioning, asking about any changes in her behaviour, and what might possibly have preceded them. Then David, checking over his shoulder said, “Oh, no, she’s perfectly in trim. Just thought it was a real cock move, wasn’t it, saying you were his friend and not even telling me your name? Can’t stand that sort of rubbish; it’s the fucking twenty-first century, is it not?  But listen, Sheila, that’s the dog, would be absolutely chuffed to meet you lads, so come on and I’ll introduce you, and then I’ve got to get changed. My wife’s already sent me four texts.”

“We would be chuffed to meet Sheila,” Merlin said cheerfully.

[kawhh]

I need to buy myself a chew toy I am going feral over all this dark content. When do you think the obsession started? Was it the moment he laid eyes on you? Did he completely tune out what his friends were saying as you walked by? Was he dazed and jumpy until you entered his sight again? Did his friends notice how little enthusiasm he had for almost everything after that moment until he introduced you, magically cured to full life? Did they make fun of him for randomly going on a renovation kick, buying things that added a homey, maybe feminine touch that killed the "bachelor pad" vibes? Did everything else cease to be important until he had you? Was he agitated during games before you started attending each one with his name and number on your back? Was it hard for him to focus, knowing you're states away with no one to love on you, not knowing that you belong to him yet (frankly not really knowing who he is at all)?

Nonnie, please buy me an extra chew toy. My personal notes and blurb ideas keep getting more and more off the rails. I have to keep checking that I'm writing them in the right place and not accidentally sending them to anyone lmao.

I cut myself off a bit so lemme know if you want more.

If you ever found out how he started his obssession with you.. he isn't convinced you wouldn't run. He can't ever hint towards it. Until he knows you're his forever and he can make sure you can't leave him, he won't speak a word.

He'd seen you on a night out - he'd been out with his friends in the summer break to blow off some steam and relax after the straining season.

The instant obsession corroded his brain. Your hair - it was perfection. He wanted his hands wrapped in it. Wanted to tug it and make you cry. Your skin - he just wanted to feel you. You looked so soft.. you'd feel so good in his arms.

He needed you. He wanted you. Nothing else mattered to him. Not his friends around, not his drink, not anyone hanging around him hoping for a chance.

The glance at you wasn't enough and he's struggling to find you again in the crowd. Were you a dream? A mirage? He could believe that with how perfect you were for him.

He's leaving his friends without a thought. He needs to find you again. He catches another glimpse of you - you're leaving the bar. Fuck. He needs to act fast, he can't have you enter his life and leave it. He'll apologise to his friends in the morning, they'll believe he was just exhausted.

He's dashing into a taxi, tipping them extra to follow you closely so he doesn't lose track of you, but far enough way to not be suspicious. He can't scare you off. You eventually stop at what must be your appartment. He gets the taxi driver to stop further up the road.

He won't act too fast.. he'll just.. watch. You really should learn to close the curtains. You live alone. That's good to know but also concerning. Who's looking after you? You look so fragile. He needs to learn your routine. Needs to know when he can sneak in. Needs to how how he can engineer a meeting.

Do you go to a certain cafe in the week? Where do you work? You were at the bar, do you go there often?

What decorations do you have in your apartment? What's your taste? He'll start preparing his apartment. You have plants? Well now he has plants.

[hannahbarberra162]

Opposites of Attraction, Chapter 2

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapter

Thank you to @nocturnalrorobin and @limitlesstildil for beta-ing this work!!

Your POV

“ - and so this Squirt is comin’ on board. Any problems and I’ll dump her overboard,” Kid yelled out to the assembled crew. He’d finally released you from his arm and demagnetized your lips now that the ship was sailing on the open water.

“No you won’t,” you said with disinterest, looking around at the ship past the assembled crew. You were familiar with some of them from wanted posters - Wire, Heat, Quincy, Emma, as well as some others you thought you recognized but weren’t sure. 

“Heh, don’t tell me what I will or won’t do. I’m the Captain here -”

“You gave yourself the nickname ‘Captain,’ doesn’t make you one,” you said dryly, now walking away from Kid and towards the mast for further inspection. Kid went red up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s not a nickname you fuckin�� bitch! This is my ship-”

“Then why’s it in quotes on your wanted posters and no one else's? Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid?” you smirked at him, making air quotes. You weren’t looking at him anymore though, you were more interested with the metal on the ship. You reached out to touch the steel-plated mast. Shitty quality , you thought to yourself. Now Kid’s chest was red too. You wondered if you could turn him red from the top of his ears down to his feet. Maybe he’d run out of blood before then and die - it was a theory you’d like to test.

“Besides, you can’t throw me overboard. I would fuck your shit up before you got the chance,” you said, now touching the shitty iron. Damn, what did they pry this off of? A kid's sandbox?

“Yeah, and how? I control -” 

“You control magnets but I control the metal,” you said with a grin, flipping him off with one hand. Still touching the metal on the mast, you added significantly more (and better quality) steel to what was already there. You used your power and a little creativity to shape it into a giant sized hand giving Kid the middle finger.

“Good likeness,” Killer said, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks Killer! I’m okay with sculptures, but -”

“You like it so much, you can fuckin’ stay there!” Kid yelled, probably annoyed he was already forgotten due to your awesome statue. Without warning you were jerked backward so the entirety of your body was stuck against the mast. You hit the mast hard, the air pushed out of your lungs with the unexpected movement. Kid stormed off to another area of the ship, boots stomping all the way. You rolled your eyes and molded the steel you’d added back around the mast, giving yourself a metal chair to be magnetized to. You couldn’t leave the mast but you could make it nicer for yourself. The crew broke apart to go back to work but a few came up to you as you stayed put. You watched Quincy stand up from the crate she was sitting on and hold onto it for a few moments while bent over before she righted herself. You’d always liked the looks of her from her posters but unfortunately, she left and the Commanders came over.

“You’re Wire, right?” you asked, looking the tall man up and down as he came to introduce himself.

“You know that’s right. You heard about me, Babe?” he said, leaning over you onto his forearm and giving you a wink. Did that actually work on anyone?

“Smallest dick on the seas, that’s what they say,” you deadpanned as the Commander’s face soured. Killer and another Commander laughed heartily as Wire gave you a scowl and stomped away, much like his Captain. You weren’t sure how they’d made it this long with such fragile egos - you’d make it your personal mission to deflate them.

“I’m Heat, nice to meet you,” the blue-haired man said to you, extending his hand.

“Nice to make your acquaintance but your fuckface of a Captain magnetized my hands to the mast so I can’t shake your hand,” you said with an overly saccharine tone. 

“Ah, right. Well, I’ll see you around I guess?” Heat said, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’ll be here until he gets the stick out of his ass, which seems like it may never happen. Feel free to stop by,” you replied. You hoped Kid remembered to give you water to drink otherwise you’d die on his stupid ass fish ship. 

Kid’s POV

Kid was burning off steam in his workshop, welding tiny pieces of metal together to make a metal hawk. He'd felt the iron you created - it was better than almost all of the stuff on board. Creating was a great way to relieve Kid’s stress - after he’d already used the axe-throwing room and decimated the wooden target board. Kid wasn’t one to doubt his decisions but you were already a huge pain in his ass. You hadn’t been on the ship for 12 hours and he wanted to throttle you. Who the fuck did you think you were, flipping him off with his own ship? Talkin’ to him like he was some street rat in front of his crew? He didn’t like your attitude and the more he thought about your interactions, the angrier he became. He was the Captain, you worked for him, that’s all there was to it. You thought you were some tough, hot shit mercenary but Kid knew better. He’d break you and you’d regret ever fucking with him.

Killer popped his head in the workshop, the only person who could do so and keep it attached to their body.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, hiking his thumb backward to indicate the galley. Kid put down his welding equipment, ready to destroy some food. The delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen told him it was spaghetti and meatballs, Killer’s favorite dish. A passing thought came to him as he stood up from his workbench.

“Make a plate for our guest,” he ordered, his painted mouth splitting his face wide. 

A few minutes later, after Killer prepared and gave the Captain what he asked for, Kid sauntered up to the main deck. Of course, you were exactly where he’d left you, though you’d molded yourself some kind of chair to sit on. Clever. Kid felt a raindrop on his skin - looked like a cloudy night.

“Did you finally remember humans need food and water to survive?” you mouthed off to him. Even with your high and mighty attitude, you were exactly where he left you, unable to move. Really you should be thanking him for his mercy in allowing you to open your mouth and eyelids.

“Tch. You'll survive. Humans need water every what? 4 days?”

“Oh my fucking gods. No, humans die before then. Are you - who's the doctor on the ship?” You asked, trying to look around. Kid's eye twitched with your continued sass.

“You want this food or not?” Kid grunted, holding up the plate of spaghetti while ignoring your question. You narrowed your eyes at the food but your stomach gave off a loud grumble.

“I could eat,” you said offhandedly. Kid laughed.

“Then beg me for it,” Kid sneered. Your mouth set in a way that told him your answer before you said it.

“I'd rather eat shit, Eustass,” the venom in your tone was belied by the continued growling of your stomach.

“Ah well, that's too bad,” Kid said with false sincerity. He pulled the plate back and used the fork to twirl a large amount of spaghetti onto it. Your mouth dropped open as Kid shoved it all into his own. He felt a few more raindrops on his skin but paid it no mind.

“If you feel like eating, or yanno, leaving the mast again slurp , you know what to do,” Kid said with an exaggerated shrug, already turned away with the food in his hands. You didn’t say anything but he did smile as he repulsed a wave of iron coming at him back to you. 

Your POV

It was a bitterly cold night at sea, something you were well used to. One of the many perks of being a Logia fruit user was that you didn’t feel differences in temperature as you could always turn into your iron form. Sure, it was less comfortable to stay as a solid piece of iron than laying in a bed but the benefit of being able to sleep literally anywhere outweighed a night spent with a fluffy pillow. You hadn’t lost a wink of sleep since the day you’d eaten your fruit.

Except when you were completely wet.  

And you were right now due to the raging rainstorm outside. You weren’t able to use your powers anymore and you felt like complete shit but lucky for you whatever intrinsic nature your devil fruit had given you left you still magnetized to the mast. So you were freezing to death and couldn’t make yourself immune to the cold, but also couldn’t move from where Fuckstass had left you. Your teeth were chattering together and you had lost sensation in your toes and fingers as the rain pounded you relentlessly.

The clothes you wore weren’t waterproof or meant for the cold - you had long stopped buying clothes and made your own out of finely woven iron mesh. From afar it was indistinguishable from other textiles but had the additional benefit of providing some protection against attacks. It was not, however, meant to get wet and cold and stick to your freezing body like a second skin. You were hungry, tired, wet, losing the will to live, and freezing.

If the Captain was trying to kill you, he was doing a passable job. If the rainstorm kept up and you caught a severe enough cold, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that you could die. It figured, you led a life as an infamous mercenary and what would take you out was being left out in the rain. You closed your eyes, trying to gather up the scraps of your will that remained. You had come to terms with the fact that water took away your power and ability to swim but the loss of will to live always upset you the most. Shivering as the wind whipped your hair into your face, you tried to steel yourself for the rest of the night. Morning would eventually come and hopefully, the rain would abate soon.

Kid POV

Kid was feeling a little better now that he’d tormented you over dinner. He wasn’t planning on starving you to death, he wanted your abilities for his own gain. He had touched the kind of iron you made for yourself and it was higher quality even than the steel he used for his arm. So luckily for you, he’d give you food and water or whatever after you dropped your bratty attitude. He was absorbed in making the feathers for the hawk when he felt Killer’s gaze at his back. 

“What,” Kid said, not breaking eye contact with his project.

“ ‘S raining hard out there. Coupla hours now,” Killer said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, buckets. Cold as shit too. No big storm though. Need me on deck?” Kid was unsure where Killer was going with this but Killer never interrupted without reason.

“Squirt’s still stuck to the mast,” Killer said with a shrug.

“Fuckin’ dammit, ” Kid yelled, slamming down his blow torch onto the table. He picked up what Killer was saying - you wouldn’t be able to turn into iron and avoid the cold with all the water but also couldn’t leave where he’d put you. Killer moved out of the way as Kid stomped back up to the deck, his coat billowing behind him. 

Of course, you were right where he left you. You were huddled up as much as you could, shaking uncontrollably. You were wet and shivering and your skin looked blue - Kid almost felt bad for you. You deserved it for pissing him off too much but it was probably not good, he ultimately decided. Grunting, he demagnetized you and removed his red coat as he moved onto the deck. Walking into the rain made him feel shitty in seconds, you probably felt worse.

Kid stormed up to you, wrapped you in his coat and picked you up off the deck, carrying you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest or even say anything back to him, just hung off his shoulder like a sack of grain as water fell off you in rivulets. Killer was watching from the doorway as Kid brought you inside the ship.

“Needs a warm bath, she got too cold,” Killer supplied. Kid growled and gnashed his teeth but stomped his way over to his quarters. There was hot water in the shared bathroom but someone was already in there and you needed the bath now. Easier and faster to just get it done in his own room. He set you down on the floor, his coat now just as wet as you were. Another fucking annoyance he’d have to deal with later. After turning on the spigots in his bathroom, Kid faced you. You weren’t magnetized or anything but you weren’t moving either.

“Strip,” Kid commanded, already reaching to remove his coat from your body.

“Hh- nn-no?” you answered, your tone making it seem more like a question. You were really out of it, Kid thought. He didn’t bother asking again, just started ripping off your clothes. Normally clothes shredded without him even trying but these had a little more strength to them. Holding up one of your socks, he realized it was made of steel so fine it looked like gossamer.

“The fuck…is this chainmail?” Kid grumbled as he tore the steel. He set your clothes aside, he wanted to smelt them down later. Maybe you were worth the trouble, this was good shit.

“ ‘S not chainmail, just mesh,” you mumbled, kicking off your pants. Kid was secretly pleased you weren’t protesting him taking off your clothes. He wasn’t shy about being naked and preferred when others weren’t either. His crew had seen each other naked so many times it was almost surprising when all of them were clothed. Between the two of you, you were naked in a matter of seconds. Kid picked you up around the middle with his flesh hand, noting how light you were when you weren’t being a brat and turning yourself to metal. Kid did try to not stare at your naked body but it was challenging. Your tits were just the right size and he wanted to sink his teeth into your thighs. Kid dumped you into the bath and you hissed at the sensation, recoiling from the water. Kid rolled his eyes but didn’t remark on your pain.

“Get warm then come out,” Kid grunted, leaving his towel on top of the counter for you. Your teeth were still chattering and your body was wracked with chills as he turned to leave the bathroom. You started to lean over towards the side of the tub and Kid had to move quickly to right you again. Water overload maybe - you’d been in the rain and now the bath. Too much water wouldn’t kill you but it wouldn’t feel great either. Killer would be mad if Kid left you in the bath alone since it was maybe Kid’s fault you were in this position to begin with.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Kid huffed as he used his hands to pour the tepid water over your back and head. You still weren’t talking and your eyes kept sliding shut. After a few moments, your head dropped down to your chest as you nodded out. 

“Alright, s’enough of that,” Kid said, picking you up. Getting you warm from the bath didn’t seem to be helping, you were ragdolling as he wrapped you in his oversized towel and carried you to the bed.

“You really couldn’t be more fuckin’ irritating,” Kid said while setting you on the bed. He dried you off roughly, ignoring the way the moving towel had your tits jiggling under his hand. Drying you off quickly, he grabbed one of his shirts off the floor. It was clean enough, it wasn’t like you had open wounds or anything and would mind the oil. 

“Put this on Squirt,” Kid ordered, throwing it at you. You blinked but caught it with a hand, starting to dress yourself robotically. Kid frowned, what the fuck was wrong with you? He’d given you a bath and dried you off, weren’t you better now?

“Can make my clothes,” you muttered, lifting up your hand. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Do that shit tomorrow. Put my shirt on pipsqueak,” Kid yelled at you. You looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

“You still cold?” Kid asked, hanging up his soaking jacket on the coat rack.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging your knees with a yawn. “When the rain goes away I’ll go back outside,” you mumbled into your legs. A soft knock at the door told Kid Killer had stopped by. Opening the door, Kid saw Killer with a steaming mug of tea and a warm plate of food left over from dinner. 

“For Squirt,” Killer said pointedly. Kid rolled his eyes. He ate Mosh’s food once like a year ago and Killer never let him forget it. 

“Gave ‘er a bath. She’s being weird,” Kid huffed to Killer.

“Hypothermia, dummy. ‘S makin’ me tired and groggy and can’t kick your ass right now,” Kid heard you grouse from the bed. 

“Looks like she’s doing better,” Killer said, nodding along with your assessment. “She’s gonna crash soon. Needs a warm place and lotsa blankets to sleep under. Want me to take her to the ladies?” Killer offered, handing the food and mug over to Kid. When the ship was first built, the whole crew lived together in the bunks below deck but Emma and Quincy quickly demanded their own space. They said the men were gross, smelly, and snored too loud which wasn’t far from the truth. So Kid repurposed a stock room into the women’s quarters and they’d made the place much nicer than the men’s. Looking over, he saw you’d curled up in his bed and were already asleep under his heavy blanket. 

“Lemme know,” Killer offered before he sauntered away like the instigator he was. Kid huffed and set the food down on his nightstand. 

“Drink the tea, brat,” Kid said, shaking you with his metal arm. You groaned and rolled over, wrapping yourself up further in his blankets. You looked kind of…pathetic. Kid was sure that come the morning your sass would be back and you’d be spewing all kinds of nonsense but even he wasn’t completely heartless. Shoving you over to the side of his bed, Kid kicked off his boots and laid down next to you on the bed.

“Don’t get used to it Squirt. Tomorrow you’re back in the dog house,” Kid groused at your sleeping form. You exhaled sharply through your nose, annoyed with him even in your sleep. The feeling was mutual, Kid thought as he detached his metal arm and set it on the floor by his bed. He could sleep with it on but it wasn’t very comfortable and his stump appreciated the relief. 

He yanked some covers away from you but not that much. Kid ran warm all the time and even though it was freezing outside, tonight was no exception. He leaned back against his pillows, shoving his hand behind his head. He was pondering what the fuck he was going to do with you when he felt you roll into his side. 

“Oi, Squirt. What’re you up to?” Kid said quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep. Even though you were annoying as fuck, he didn’t like seeing you so out of it. He wanted you to be back to your bratty, sassy, irritating self so if you needed sleep, he’d let you have it. 

“Warm,” was all you said as you buried your cold nose into his side and frozen feet on his legs.

“Oi! Warn me before you do that again, what’re you made of ice?” 

“Not gonna happen yawn again. Just tonight. You tried to kill me s’os it’s ok,” you said into his side. You were wrapping yourself around him and it didn’t escape Kid’s notice that your unbound tits were pressed against him. He reacted as anyone else would - he got hard. 

“Didn’t try to kill you,” Kid muttered. 

“Did,” you replied, your arms wrapping around him. Kid was about to retort again but you sighed in contentment as you heated your body with his own. Whatever. Having a sexy (but pesky) woman cuddling up to him wasn’t the worst way he’d gone to bed, he thought as he fell asleep, willing his cock to do the same.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[asilentguardian]

I've got like three wips rn that I really want to finish but while I bang my head against those walls here's a little fic. I was going through my old wips and this is something from 2021 that I finished and apparently never posted, and I think it's decent enough to share. enjoy the hurt/comfort :D

-------

It’s weeks before he starts noticing it.

It’s only after they start whatever they’ve started that Bruce’s walls start coming down, that Hal allows himself to watch Bruce unabashedly.

It’s subtle, at first. Sudden hitches in his step that Bruce recovers from almost flawlessly. When Bruce sits down, the crease between his eyebrows smooths out, his face uncoiling from itself. Hal is no stranger to the people in his life hiding injuries, and Bruce happens to be an expert at it, but Bruce’s skin is only marred in old wounds.

When Hal has Bruce on top of him, bare skin and smiling down at Hal, he runs a hand down his spine. There’s no new bumps or bruises, nothing out of place from the skin Hal has been making an effort to memorize. The muscle at the base of Bruce’s spine tenses as Hal’s hand comes to a stop, so he moves it further down. Hal’s thoughts turn to a barely coherent jumble soon after that.

He tries to bring it up. Tries to ask Bruce about it, but Bruce is adept at leading Hal’s attention towards more pleasurable things.

It’s not until days later, when Hal arrives at the batcave, that it all comes to ahead. It’s late at night, and Hal just spent 3 days away from Earth. The last time Hal had been gone for more than a day, Bruce had barely let him get more than 2 feet out of reach. So the fact that Bruce doesn’t even spin his chair around is Hal’s first indication that something is wrong.

“Honey, I’m home!” Hal calls out as he touches down, expecting an annoyed Bruce to swivel around and glare at him. Or perhaps a grunt of acknowledgement. He remains still in front of the computer.

“Bruce?” Hal says, a bit softer this time. He starts towards the chair.

“Yes.” It comes out strained, more of a statement than a question. As Hal gets closer, Bruce sucks in a breath and grits out “Don’t.”

Hal comes to an abrupt stop and gives the back of Bruce’s head a look.

“What happened.” Hal demands.

“Nothing.”

“Then stop giving me one word answers.”

Bruce heaves in another breath and grips the arms of his chair until his knuckles turn white. Hal braces himself for the start of a fight, but it never comes. He walks around to the front of the chair and leans against the console. Bruce is still in his suit, sans cape and cowl. He’s sitting ram-rod straight, his eyes shut and his entire face contorted in pain. Hal tries to push the panic back down his throat.

“Baby, tell me what’s wrong,” Hal whispers, reaching out and placing his hand on one of Bruce’s arms. Bruce’s eyes snap open and find Hal’s, only to immediately turn his head away, eyes falling down towards the cave floor. Whatever pain Bruce is feeling, it was enough to distract him from Hal’s approach.

Hal assesses him again. Bruce’s breathing is so carefully even. His arms are trembling, and his shoulders are tense. His back is entirely still.

Hal makes sure Bruce is telegraphing his movements out of his peripherals before he crouches down in front of him and takes his hands, lifting them off the arm rests. Bruce’s hands are clammy, they clench and unclench, trying not to grip Hal’s hands too tightly.

“How bad is it?” Hal asks, his voice still low. Bruce swallows once before answering.

“Can’t move,” Bruce pushes out.

“What happened?” It takes a bit of effort to keep his voice even, to keep all of the fear and anger out of it.

“Old injury. Lower spine. Strained it.” Bruce says, once again closing his eyes. It takes Hal a moment to recognize the look on Bruce’s face as shame. He’s blown away by it for a moment, the idea of Bruce feeling shame for something so human. But he’s familiar with the shame that comes along with pain.

“Alright. You can squeeze my hands as hard as you need to, I can take it. We’re going to get you to wherever a clean pair of clothes are,” Hal says, standing from a crouch, maintaining his hold on Bruce’s hands.

“Hal-”

“Nope, no arguing. You’re not laying in bed with me in full costume. Not unless we’re doing something sexy. On second thought…” Hal muses, watching Bruce’s face carefully. A ghost of an exasperated smile makes its way oh-so-briefly onto Bruce’s face.

“Locker room, to your left,” Bruce mutters out, his grip tightening significantly on Hal’s hands. Hal takes a step back to give Bruce room to stand, and Bruce’s eyes finally flutter open. He takes a deep breath before slowly beginning to stand.

It takes a full five minutes for Hal to help Bruce to the locker room. The idea of carrying him is quickly shot down, so Hal just supports most of his weight as they hobble to the door. Hal tries to keep a running commentary up, even as they have to pause for Bruce to catch his breath.

When they finally get Bruce seated on a bench, Hal goes about undressing him.

“Hal, you don’t have to,” Bruce croaks out as Hal begins undoing the hidden catches and buckles on his torso.

“What? Undress my very sexy boyfriend? I think yes I do have to.”

“Hal,” Bruce whispers. Hal stops for a moment and looks Bruce in the eye, framing his head in his hands. 

“Hey, I’ve got this baby, alright? I’ve got you,” He whispers back. Bruce nods and Hal leans forward, pressing a kiss against Bruce’s lips.

“I’ve got you,” Hal whispers again, his thumb stroking Bruce’s cheek. Bruce closes his eyes as Hal resumes taking apart the bat suit. He moves his arms when Hal taps them, stands on unsteady feet when Hal takes off his pants and stays standing as he helps him into sweatpants.

Hal doesn’t draw attention to the spasms in Bruce’s back, doesn’t comment on the occasional flinch. He just eases Bruce through, pauses without Bruce having to say anything.

“We need to get you upstairs,” Hal murmurs, his voice shockingly close. Bruce opens his eyes and looks at Hal. He’s sitting beside Bruce, holding his hand, staring steadily into his eyes. Bruce takes a breath before nodding.

It takes longer to get Bruce to the elevator, but Hal is able to get away with using his ring to help keep Bruce upright.

When they emerge into the manor, Alfred takes one look at them before his eyes widen in panic.

“Master Bruce!” He yells before rushing to Bruce’s other side, taking some of his weight onto his own shoulders.

“To the couch,” he says to Hal. Hal is about to protest, but Alfred seems unaffected, so he obeys. The two of them manage to get Bruce to lay sideways on the couch, his head in Hal’s lap.

Hal is momentarily embarrassed by the fact that he’s essentially cuddling with his boyfriend in front of his boyfriend’s father, but he’s distracted rather quickly by Bruce sucking in another breath between his teeth. He buries one hand in Bruce’s hair and grabs ahold on one of Bruce’s hands with his other. Bruce’s eyes are laser focused on Hal’s.

“I’ll be just a moment,” Alfred says before hurrying out of the room.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” Hal whispers down at Bruce. Bruce doesn’t respond beyond squeezing Hal’s hand briefly. He closes his eyes again and turns his face into Hal’s stomach.

When Alfred returns, he’s holding a syringe. He gestures for Hal to roll Bruce onto his side, and Hal can feel Bruce tense again as he does. Alfred injects the painkiller into Bruce’s back and gently helps Hal roll Bruce back onto his back.

Alfred takes a moment to study Bruce’s face and take in his labored breathing before standing back up.

“That should help ease the pain, as well make him drowsy,” Alfred says. It takes a moment for Hal to realize he’s talking to him. He looks up at Alfred from Bruce’s slowly softening face.

“Thank you,” Hal responds. Alfred nods and turns to leave the room. He pauses for a moment and turns back to Hal, his eyes fluttering across Bruce, worry very clearly etched into his face.

“Thank you, Captain Jordan,” Alfred says. He’s out the door before Hal can respond. Hal looks back down, continues to study Bruce’s face. He leans back into the couch and props his feet up, listening as Bruce’s breath gets steadier.

[syntheticavenger]

Nothing to see here, move along.

Let Him Loose - Two

A continuation of a little project I started here.

Dark! Ari Levinson x Female Reader / Dennis Baker x Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, world building, possibly a little murder right out of the gate?

Summary | After your boyfriend’s promotion, he means to make amends with his estranged parents, including his older brother. As family wounds come to light, so do the secrets that have been buried for decades.

Sweat dots her brow, the older woman scrubbing at a stubborn stain on her favorite skillet, ignoring her husband who opens the fridge to grab a beer, wordless before the crack of the top of the bottle gets her attention. It’s been a week of nonstop cleaning, painting and redecorating, the countdown on the calendar circled in blue pen.

”Did you take out the trash like I asked?” She questions, the man giving a slight sound of what appears to be a yes. “Elvin, I asked you a question.”

”I said yes, woman,” he speaks up, the woman stopping her scrubbing at the tone of his voice. “Why on earth are you so worried about making the place look good? It’s Dennis. The boy knows home.”

”It ain’t just about him knowing about home, he’s bringing her,” she reminds him, Elvin turning around at her mention of you.

”Is he?” Elvin emphasizes, seeing his wife’s head nod emphatically. With that, he snorts, thinking of his youngest son in disbelief at the news. “Thought you were pullin’ my chain. A girl. That changes everything, don’t it?”

She scrubs away at the stain, looking at her handiwork for a moment before slipping it into the hot, soapy water, leaning over the sink with a heavy sigh.

”Can’t have this place lookin’ like a pigsty. She’s a city girl, Elvin. Lord knows she’s gonna turn up her nose at everything we have and then some so the least I can do is make sure the house looks tidy.”

Elvin shakes his head in disgust at her worrying.

”Bernadette, since when do you care what a city girl thinks about our home?”

“I don’t. But I can keep up the appearance in the meantime.”

Elvin nods at her response, realizing that his wife is much smarter than he ever gives her credit for. Scratching behind his neck, he looks on at the pristine kitchen, redone with fancy wallpaper and some spackle and paint to cover the cracks. It does look good, he has to admit to himself, Bernadette finishing up the last of the dishes.

“Does Ari know?”

She pauses for a moment, looking over her shoulder as she gives him a wink.

”He will.”

-

The clack of billiard balls are overshadowed by the raucous music, heavy conversation and servers announcing the next round of drinks while they visit their tables. Another local watering hole, nothing special about it except for the cheap beer and the waitresses who try for extra tips by showing all the skin they can get away with. One in particular hangs around, her shorts slung over on her hips when she comes by again, placing another beer in front of him.

”Never seen you before,” she hints, batting her eyelash extensions at him. “I’m Donna.”

“First time,” he answers, reaching for the beer. “Ari.”

”Ari,” she repeats, nodding her head. “I like it.”

He simply nods, giving her nothing to work with as she leans over the table, her cleavage on full display.

”What do you say you and I get a little more acquainted? I’m off in thirty minutes.”

Ari’s blue eyes lock with hers as she smiles. He leans in closer, getting a waft of her cheap body spray. It’s overpowering but it doesn’t deter him, not in the slightest.

”That could be arranged,” he begins, his curled index finger gliding down her heavily blushed cheek. “Got a little fetish though, if you don’t mind indulging me..”

She leans in closer, her teeth dragging excitedly on her thin lower lip.

”Tell me.”

”Well… I like a little chase. Gets the heart rate up.”

With a loud laugh, she leans up with a snap, tucking the tray under her arm.

”Say less. Meet you out back. I even got my running shoes on.”

Ari settles back in his seat, his stomach growling. It’s been hours since he ate. The appetizer that sits in front of him is untouched, the cheese dip congealing into something that looks like mush.

Glancing over his text messages, he smirks at the message he’s left his younger brother, left on read when Ari had mentioned he had wanted to meet her. Poor Dennis, trying to keep her a secret, only to fail and succumb to the pressure of wanting to brag about finally having a girlfriend after being teased and bullied for so long. Not that he could fault him - he would have gloated too if he’d had decades of a dry spell.

After a little business, he downs his beer, stomach still growling as he feels the aching gnaw in the pit of his gut. It’ll subside eventually. It always does one he’s sated.

The moon hides behind the clouds and for a moment, Ari takes it in, looking at his brand new watch to note the time before he takes it off and slips it into his jean pocket.

Whistling to himself, he tosses a few dollar bills on the table, cracking his neck from side to side before heading out the exit and to the back of the bar like Donna had requested.

-

Bernadette sits out on the porch, wiping her brow before fanning herself with the ornate handmade handheld fan that Ari bought her during his business trip to Guangzhou. The ice in her iced tea is melting rapidly, floating on the surface like tiny glaciers. She’s finally alone with her thoughts, Elvin gone to bed to get up early to tend to the farm. Nights like these keep her awake, thinking of her boys who used to play on the front lawn until all hours of the night until she carried them back to their beds.

It’s been years since she’s had her sons in the house, thunder rumbling overhead as she sips her drink, thinking to the future. Annabelle Tatum thought she was the only one with something to talk about, her only daughter finally getting married. The dour faced girl with pock marked skin after several bouts of acne had been extremely shy but had grown into her looks, something that Bernadette had prayed to God to forgive her for once saying out loud when the girl had come back from college.

Like most, the ones who came back never left again, just as Annabelle’s daughter. Two kids in tow now, another on the way, Annabelle gushing at the eventual new arrival every chance she got.

It isn’t like Bernadette had a rebuttal. Everyone knew she had one son that grew up to be something. Ari was a star baseball player, a swagger in his gait and a smile that lit up a room. She’d raised him well, happy to see him stick to his roots and defy the agents who came with blank checks and big dreams to make him a star. An enlistment and three tours later, the once gawky teenager with long hair and a shuffle in his step had emerged to be a mountain of a man with that same husky drawl and even longer hair, albeit much richer than his parents had ever thought he’d be.

Then there was Dennis.

Secretly, he’d always been her favorite, as sinful as that could be to have a mother love one son over another by a small margin. How could he not be with his once clear framed glasses, bruises marked on his elbows and knees from the amount of times he would get knocked down. For as long as she could remember, she always wanted her little Dennis to win, even if Elvin didn’t think he would. There was grit in his spirit, even when he’d come home, teary eyed and unwilling to talk about the fights he had lost, he’d get back up and do it all over again.

But there was a need for him to put distance between what he always knew and the great unknown. She never approved - still doesn’t now, even after all these years. Once he was given a scholarship, including the others that he had secretly applied to, there was no looking back. No amount of convincing that staying here would be safer for his psyche worked.

Bernadette swallows hard at the lump that forms in her throat when she thinks about how long he’s been gone. Christmases still aren’t the same, even when Ari comes with his fully loaded truck packed to the gills with the newest household gadgets for her to try and new furniture for them, the loss of knowing her youngest wants nothing to do with their family traditions.

While she can understand to a point, Elvin in his older age has grown tired of pretending that he can live with Dennis’ decision. As the head of the household, Elvin looks to Ari to carry on the family name, to take care of her and the farm when he eventually passes away. It’s a way of life, especially with their kind, something that she knows he’s been talking about more than usual. She isn’t ready to discuss it.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever ready to have him bring up the topic again.

But as it’s written, the law handed down a century and then some ago, there’s a ceremonial meaning to Dennis coming home. She hopes it’s because of the call, intertwined in his DNA that makes him want to return home.

Placing her drink down, she closes her eyes, the fan in her hand moving rapidly.

Yes, she thinks.

He knows where home is.

-

Ari’s boots crunch on the gravel, the first strings of dawn beginning to form, his hand plunging into his pant pocket and pulling out his watch. He looks back at the discarded clothes and smiles, reaching for his keys in his back pocket.

Dennis finally replied to his text, a simple acknowledgment with a thumbs up emoji. Never a man of words, this is all the conversation Ari will get before they meet in person, something he knows Dennis won’t want to do. Ari doesn’t mind pulling rank, especially on his younger brother.

Shrugging on his flannel and buttoning it down, the chill of the air makes everything feel still, as if any slight noise will shatter this serene moment. Opening the door to his truck, he examines his teeth in the rear view, picking out a piece of bone before flicking it out of his window.

With a few simple presses of buttons, all the windows lower, rock music playing loudly as he reverses, gravel spraying upward before he throws it into drive, accelerating and leaving the mountains behind.

He’s not hungry anymore but tiredness hovers over his eyes.

There’s a small diner on the way to his parents’ house, where the coffee is fresh and people know to keep clear of him. A healthy fear, one that he uses to his advantage when the time calls for it. No doubt in a few hours, they’ll pretend that they didn’t see him, deny that he was there.

He snaps his fingers to the beat of the music, hitting his hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the drums.

He’ll be home before dinner.

Just in time to size up Dennis’ new girl.

-

Elvin watches the truck pull up in the driveway, the music still thunderous before it abruptly shuts off, Ari flinging the door open. In the back of the truck are more gifts, Elvin finding himself shaking his head with the idea of where he will put the things he’d bought.

”Where’s Ma?” Ari questions, Elvin’s head tilting toward the house. 

”Shower. Gotta get dolled up for the prodigal son and the city girl, ya know,” Elvin quips, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. “What’s in the back?”

“Figured that we can’t have Denny back in the house without a little celebration,” Ari says, adjusting his sunglasses before slamming the door shut. “Brought some meat for Ma to cook up for tonight. Figured we could have a right feast this time.”

[reddevilmcnt]

[ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] I guess I sense them cuz they're usually being standoffish with me. When they start off that way or turn into a cold asshole after they realize I don't have a single submissive bone in my body, that's when I know it's another Dom. Have you seen those nature videos of two apex predators just staring tensely at each other until one finally leaves? It's just like that. 💀 [ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] Don't worry, I've played wingman before. They won't run from you just cuz I'm there.

He's surprised to read how sorry Ross is that his date didn't work out, though Maksim doesn't really dwell over it. He isn't so annoyed to just become jaded about romantic outcomes; maybe for him it wasn't that serious because he already did have a family, and thanks to his amazing parents, he knew what type of love could exist out there. He was brought up to have a healthy, high self-esteem in that he already knew he was great, and that the right partner would only highlight that greatness. There would be time for other dates and other Omegas to come along and dazzle him (though, one thing that doesn't really make sense is him rejecting easy sex for a night of naked texting alone in bed. He's grateful Ross won't ever become aware of the full details, won't ever be able to call him out on that uncharacteristic shift in behavior.)

What inevitably trips Maksim up is Ross calling him out on something else, his dark twin brows knitting together in response. He delays texting back then, lips pressing into a firm line as a heavier pulse stirs in his cock, subtly shifting the crimson fabric draped inadequately over his groin. He’s grown accustomed to Ross's bold, sexual remarks, but he’s damned lucky they’re not face-to-face right now. The tiny human has no idea about the twisted hedonism brewing in the darkening swirl of his blue irises. Slowly, the pad of his tongue drags along his bottom lip, clearly hungry for something, and only after wrestling his unruly thoughts into submission does he finally reply, his composure carefully pieced back together.

[ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] Depends. I'd have to see you wearing it first, yeah? So I know exactly what to think about when I'm fucking them. [ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] Yeah fucking right. You wish.

Whew. That was a close one. Nice fucking save.

He’s not completely insane------- yet. But it’s becoming abundantly more transparent that Ross wouldn’t mind taking him there. Maksim’s starting to suspect this human thinks he can play with him, like some sorta game. He seems to want a reaction out of Maksim, probably hoping to get under his skin the way he might have with one of his stupid fucking exes. But Maksim isn’t about to be wrapped around the finger of some arrogant, annoying human. It's not happening. It's not. Hell, he’d tear open the throat of another subby boy right in front of Ross if that’s what it took to make his point. Sure, it’s a massive risk... one that could entirely dismantle his carefully maintained secret. But clearly, Maksim's not thinking straight, not when his cock is throbbing painfully hard because of who's currently texting him.

Then, a photo rolls in. Something to pull his attention away, if only for the moment.

[ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] I think you should wear the smaller one. You want the cock to do most of the stretching, don't you? [ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] We're helping each other out. You said you needed it, and I'm kinda goin stir crazy here without something new to bite into. 😈 [ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] And there's not much to talk about? It was fun cuz we hiked around one of my favorite waterfalls, but nothing exciting. Just one of those dates where you don't really feel anything. He was a sweet boy just not my sweet boy, ya know? [ Little Brat ⟶ ✉︎ ] I could be too picky, though. You ever feel like that? Like maybe settling down and lowering expectations is the better option?

as the night goes on, ross goes more warm and fuzzy, and as that happens, he starts to feel more loose and uncareful. he says more things that he probably shouldn't say, he offers a few more little brushes of his hand or lets his eyes roam, but the night seems to come to an end before he can think to extend it, and though some part of him wants to offer maksim a sleepover, maybe a tour of his toybox, since the night is still so young, the man is already leaving and he feels like he's choking on the words.

like it's not the right time yet.

he watches the other man leave with mild interest, eyes definitely lingering even after the door is closed, the buzz of the alcohol making him too warm to function any longer in the clothes he'd tossed on, and he ends up stripped naked and laying sideways on his bed, asleep before he can truly think too much about it.

and then life seems to circle back to mundane. time spent in the classroom teaching, time spent out of it preping for more teaching, mind occasionally wandering toward maksim, pulling up their text thread to look at it, starting to type and then quickly deleting it. he wants to ask if maksim has been on the date yet, though the thought of it makes something in his stomach turn at the idea. he isn't interested in this absolute fucking jerk of a man, but...

maybe it's that tentative friendship thing that ross has been trying to convince himself might be there. he wants his possible friend to have good things. he wants him to find happiness or whatever. so he's feeling sick about the idea of some blind date that's probably gonna suck, and maybe he's hoping the person that maksim's going on a date with is also a little ugly, so what? normal possible tentative friend behavior, if you ask ross.

midterms finish up, and the couple of week break is a great chance for ross to try and get his place cleaned up, to catch up on some of the relaxing he barely lets himself do, and it startles him when his phone chimes with a new message, blinking at it for a moment, starting to respond and stopping when he notices the little dots appearing.

so the date had to have gone bad. that was the deal, right? he isn't sure why that makes his stomach swoop the way it does, but it certainly does.

[ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] doms can sniff out other doms, right? i like a big guy, someone who could just hold me up and fuck me without straining too much, you know? that type. [ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] take it the date didn't go super well, then, since we're planning a night out? i'm sorry to hear it. but i'll keep an eye out. [ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] you know deep down inside that i have to make that weird, right? are you sure you aren't telling me to wear a pretty little plug so that you know i have it and you can get yourself all revved up to fuck whatever unsuspecting little bottom i find for you?

he's smirking as he sends the messages off, though some part of him is flustered, heart racing, cheeks pink, pants a little tighter. he doesn't want to admit that last part, even to himself, so he ignores it and moves toward his closer to find that stupid see-through top he said he's wear out. he could always say it lost it, but where's the fun in that. then, after a brief moment of what can only be insanity, he's digging through his toybox and pulling out an array of his plugs, laying them out across his mattress and snapping a photo.

[ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] (image attached) [ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] which one? if you're gonna offer advice, may as well go all the way. [ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] i'm partial to the red one, myself, that's the thickest, but how warmed up do you think i should be? are you planning to actually get me laid?

his face is definitely red by the time he's done with that string of messages, and he's moving to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, breathe in and out, and then look at himself in the mirror, try to calm down a little. he feels almost foolish. this is just banter, why's he getting so worked up over it? blowing out another long, slow breath, he picks up his phone again.

[ Big Guy ⟶ ✉︎ ] do you wanna talk about the date, btw? was it just not fun? boring? lame?

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen?