#but I do have the first three and the last four and the four pages of extra extras

[obstinaterixatrix]

I remember when I thought I could do the extras in 15 pages and now I’m just desperately hoping it’s at max 25 pages because otherwise the other extras won’t fit in one post 😔

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.

His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.

“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”

You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.

“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”

It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”

It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”

Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands  graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”

“I need to— You said I could go—”

“Just give me another minute, darling.”

His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.

“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”

[lesservillain]

alpha!steddie x omega!reader Part Two. summary: after some disappointing news, you start to question your role in this whole situation. also lots of sex cw: SMUT. omegaverse and everything that comes with it. lots of cum, "public sex", mmf, dvp, breeding kink, free use, eddie wears a muzzle, feral eddie an: sorry this took so long! enjoy a lot of must to make up for it.

“Well, she’s not pregnant.”

Steve folds in his chair, face landing in the palms of his hands as he audibly sighs. Eddie shifts next to you in his seat, his knee landing on top of your thigh as he crosses his legs. You chance a look up him. His expression seems fairly neutral, not that he should really be surprised by the news anyway.

After a long two week waiting period, you’d spent the last 4 days waking up and taking a test. You’d wait the allotted time and then, with shaking hands, you’d flip the testing strip over, only to find it negative once again. Every time you’d tell yourself that it was just too early and that you’d try again tomorrow. 

Any minuscule change you’d notice in your body had you wanting to rush back into the bathroom again just to check. A little nausea, slight pain in your breasts. Was that an implantation cramp? You didn’t even know what an implantation cramp was until you’d read over the book on pregnancy Steve picked up for you on his way home the week after your cycle. The two of you took turns reading it, discussing whatever contents the book went over during dinner while Eddie did his best to understand what you were talking about.

So when you finally broke it to them earlier this morning that you’d been testing negative, Steve called the doctor right away to get you in as soon as possible. Even if he was trying to hide it, you could still see the sadness in his eyes. His disappointment continued to hang in the air of the small four walled room of the fertility clinic.

“I’m sorry to deliver bad news, but I wouldn’t fret too much.” The doctor who was assisting the three of you in this arrangement was a small, older omega woman. She’d been assisting couples since before you were born and you were able to tell by your first appointment with her that she really knew her stuff.

“Even normal alpha and omega couples can take more that one try to conceive. And the three of you have several factors against you.” She looks at each of you. 

“None of you are bonded for starters.” She flips through some paperwork on her clipboard, eyes scanning the page as she talks. “I know that you all are choosing a more…traditional method rather than doing any kind of insemination.”

Steve lift his head from his hands, “There’s no way our insurance would have covered any of it if we--”

“I know, Mr.Harrington. Let me finish.” The doctor says with a slow nod.

“Sorry,” Steve says, shrinking back a bit.

“I’m not here to judge, and, honestly, you’re better off doing what you’re doing. But, I just have some questions I want to ask, to make sure that you’re not doing anything that may make this take longer than necessary. Is that alright?”

Steve nods, and when the doctor looks to you and Eddie over her glasses, you both nod as well.

“Good. Now, are both of you taking part in this process or just one of you?” 

“Both.” Steve and Eddie say simultaneously. The doctor nods, “Okay, and are both of you knotting at the completion of intercourse?”

Heat rises to your cheeks at the question. You know it’s part of the process, but talking about your sex practices with another person makes you want to disappear into the wall behind you.

“Yeah, I have been,” Eddie responds, almost gloating thought you’re not sure if he’s aware of it in his tone. “Almost every time.”

“Really?” The doctor raises an eyebrow at him before shifting her gaze over to Steve. “And you?”

Steve shifts, visibly uncomfortable. “I did once.” 

The doctor looks at him for a moment before writing something down on her clipboard.

“Well,” she starts, “I understand knotting can be a different experience for each alpha. Usually it’s harder for an alpha to prevent one rather than having troubles achieving one…”

Steve leans forward, waving his hands dismissively. “That’s not--Jesus, I’m not having a problem with knotting. I’m just not…I’m not letting it latch. I’m…I’m pulling out.”

The doctor gives Steve a “what the fuck” look, and you can hear Eddie trying to contain a giggle under his breath. 

“Mr.Harrington, I don’t really understand how you think that’s going to help your situation.: The doctor sighs, “But, it only takes one sperm to impregnate an egg, and it seems Mr.Munson is more than willing to make up for your reluctance.”

Steve rolls his eyes, sitting back in the chair with a huff. You place a hand on his leg as a reassuring gesture. He looks down at you, still clearly upset. But after a moment, a small smile tugs on his lips, and his hand comes down to rest on top of yours. 

You barely register the way Eddie’s body moves closer to yours when the doctor addresses you directly. You sit up straight, giving her your undivided attention as she asks you a series of questions about your heat cycles and if you’re taking your vitamins. She writes several notes on her clipboard, giving small nods and hums of acknowledgment as you talk.

“Good, good. Everything sounds like they are going as they should. I suspect that your body most likely just needed some time to adjust to being off of your heat suppressants. Sometimes it can take a month or two for an omega to be fully fertile again. But once they body is back in it’s natural state, omegas tend to get pregnant almost immediately.”

Steve’s hand squeezed yours lightly. 

“One to two months?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at the older woman. 

“Yes? Is that a problem?”

“It’s not necessarily a problem,” he starts, leaning forward a bit in his seat, his hand resting on your knee. “But, what if we go another cycle and end up in this same situation next month?”

Steve looks at Eddie for the first time since you all arrived. You’re pretty sure they’d been talking about you not being pregnant while you were getting ready for the appointment. They seemed oddly distant since you came down and found them not talking to each other in the kitchen.

“Well, there are some things we can do to try an increase your odds for her next cycle. Tell me, when are the two of you due to go into rut?”

“I should have one in about 3 weeks, but Eddie’s not due for a month and a half.”

“I see. And you’re due for another heat here in the next week, correct?”

You nod, “Tuesday or Wednesday is what I’m predicting.” 

The doctor hums, then pushes herself on her stool to the little counter top on the other side of the room. She grabs a pad and pen from a drawer and starts writing, tearing the top one off and writing again on the next. Once she tears the second slip, she wheels back over to the three of you, handing Steve and Eddie each a prescription slip with their names on it.

“These are prescriptions for inducers. Go get them filled today, but don’t take them until Monday. They take about 24 hours to kick in, so by Tuesday evening both of you should be in full rut. If you need notes for work let me know and I can write them for you.”

“They have drugs that do that?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve.

Steve shakes his head. “Wait a minute. I get why you’re giving us these, but…doesn’t it seem unsafe for us both to be rutting around her. Especially if she’s going to be in heat?”

The doctor eyes Steve. “Depends on what you’re worried about happening? She’s not your mate so you’re not competing over her. Sure, you’ll be more ‘feral’ for lack of a better word, but the two of you will still know who the other is. Unless you’ve already had issues…”

Steve looks at Eddie with a knowing look, making him curl in on himself a bit bashfully. “I guess you could say we’ve run into some unexpected road bumps.” The doctor looks at all three of you with a suspicious look before shaking her head.

“Okay,” she says with exasperation, taking her glasses off and tucking them in her pocket. “So what exactly are you worried about? Fighting? Trying to mark her? Self control issues?” Steve and Eddie nod in unison and the doctor sighs once more, muttering something about alphas under her breath. 

“If you’re worried about fighting,” she says, counting with her fingers,” I would suggest staying in separate parts of the house. Designate times between the two of you to be with her and try to keep interactions with all three of you to a minimum.” A second finger. “If you’re worried about marking her…well there’s always mouth guards like athletes wear. Or you could always get a muzzle. I think ones from the pet store would be the most reliable.”

The mental image of Eddie and Steve in a muzzle made you feel a type of way that you didn’t want to explore in this doctors office right now, so you tuck that into your mind for later.

“And if you’re worried about self control…well, that’s something the three of you will have to figure out on your own. Maybe buy a leash at the pet store as well.” The doctor rises from her chair, barely standing much taller as she shakes all of your hands. 

“Hopefully when I see all three of you again we will be having a different discussion. Until then, if you have any questions, try and contact one of my nurses instead.”

“I’m not wearing a damn muzzle, Eddie.”

Steve stands with his arms crossed at the end of the aisle as you and Eddie look at the different size dog muzzles. Eddie crouches down, holding his hair back as you place the different sizes and shapes over his face to find one that he finds comfortable.

“How about this one?” You ask, placing one of the small rubber pieces over his mouth. Eddie looks at you for a moment, then pretends to lunge at you like a rabid dog, making you jump back in surprise. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout at him, followed by a fit of giggles. He puts and arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him as he laughs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “Try it again, please.”

Without warning you push the muzzle against his face and snap it shut behind his head. He looks at you with surprise, leaving you to step back to get a better look. 

“What do you think, Steve?” You glance over your shoulder to find a very amused Steve eyeing his husband with a raised brow.

“I think it looks great,” he says with a sarcastic lit. “Maybe you should wear it all the time.”

“Awe, don’t be like that, Stevie,” Eddie says with a look of innocence. “How am I gonna suck you off if I have this thing on all the time?” Steve falters for a moment, but regains his composure quickly. 

“I think I can manage.” Steve’s gaze lands on you for a barely there moment. One that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already looking at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of these? Ya know you can get a little grumpy during your ruts?”

Steve tenses. “That’s because…” A hand runs through Steve’s hair. “Nevermind. You guys finish up here. I’m gonna run next door and check on our meds.” Without another word Steve is out the door. Eddie shakes his head before reaching behind it to unbuckle the muzzle. 

“Eddie?” You look up at him with sad eyes. He’s at your side in an instant, hands on your shoulders as he looks at you with concern. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Is Steve…are…are you guys mad at me?”

Eddie reels back as if you’ve asked the most offensive question he’s ever heard. 

“What? W—of course not! Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so that would be one reason…”

Eddie steps to the side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. His embrace melts away at your anxiousness. He’s warm against you, soothing, even through your layers of clothes. 

“We’re not mad at you about that, okay?” He shakes your arm lightly, urging you to look up at him. “Obviously we knew that it might not work on the first try. Did we want it to? Sure. But that doesn’t mean we’d be upset or blame you for it.”

“But Steve…” you bite your lower lip, “he just seems so…off today.” Eddie sighs, letting arm fall from your shoulder and back to his side.

“Steve’s just…he’s a little overwhelmed with work right now. So much happened at his job the last week we took off to, well, you know. I guess someone made an error in some documentation or something and he’s been playing catch up ever since.”

You frown. You had no idea that Steve was going through so much burden at work. He must be a master at not bringing his work issues home with him, always coming through the door with a smile on his face. Him and Eddie seemed to be fine, too. And, despite your worry of it begin awkward after finally sleeping together, you all got along like everything was fine. “Wow, I-I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, he didn’t want to have you fussing over him about it. He’s probably more worried about having to take another week off than you not being pregnant.”

You nod. Something about Steve not telling you about him being so stressed makes your heart ache. A little voice in your mind is telling you to go find him and comfort him. A little voice that you’ve been noticing ever since you moved in with Steve and Eddie. 

It’s almost like you can sense their distress, but it seems to be stronger with Eddie than with Steve. Though, Eddie does wear his heart on his sleeve and likes it when you dote on him, especially when he comes home with a new cut or bruise and you insist on treating it. If you try and bring anything up with Steve, he just brushes it off and changes the subject.

“Hey, we gotta pay for this!”

Eddie’s voice pulls you from your mind. At some point you had grabbed Eddie’s hand and started to leave the pet store, him stopping you just at the threshold.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“You guys are still in here?”

You snap around to find Steve right in front of you, a plastic bag in on hand as he holds the door open with the other.

“We’re about to check out,” Eddie says, pulling you towards the line. But you can’t keep your eyes off of Steve. Every stress line on his face becomes painfully obvious to you and all you want to do is smooth them out for him. You guess this is why he didn’t want to tell you. But when had you become someone who gets so upset by things like this?

“Shit.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat, as the three of you pull up to the house.

“What’s wrong?” You ask from the back seat, leading around to try and see what Steve was worried about.

“Did you tell me Robin was coming over and I forgot?” Eddie asks Steve, nodding towards an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Stave nods, running a hand down his face.

“I told her we would go out with her and Vicki for drinks when they were back in town. I guess I’ve been so preoccupied that I forgot that was today.”

“Okay…well that shouldn’t be a problem…” Eddie says slowly, pulling up next to the car and putting it in park. “But with the way you’re talking, you’re making it sound like it’s a problem.”

Steve huffs out a frustrated sigh, his head rolling to the side to look at Eddie.

“I haven’t…They don’t know about…” Steve’s gestures back to you. Eddie’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open in shock.

“You didn’t tell them about…Wait, do they even know we were doing any of this?” Eddie’s hands move wildly as he talks.

“I told them we had been talking more about kids, but I didn’t tell them exactly how we were intending on having them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “So we have to walk in there and say ‘oh, hey guys, nice to see you. By the way, this is the girl we’re fucking so we can have a baby.’”

You tried really hard to keep it in, but a snort escapes you and catched both men’s attention. They both look back at you as you cover your mouth with your hand, waving the other defensively.

“I’m sorry,” you say through giggles. “It’s not funny, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell your friends. We’re you just going to hide me in my room for 9 months or something?”

“No, no!” Both of them start talking over each other and it only makes you laugh more.

After you reassure them that you didn’t actually think they were going to hide you away, the three of you came up with a quick game plan on how to explain things to Robin and Vicki.  It was funny to see the two of them nervous to enter their own home. You could feel the nerves rolling off of both of them as they stepped inside. 

You caught a glimpse of Robin, who you’d seen in pictures around the house, sitting at the island. Her eyes were on the TV, mindlessly scooping chips into your home made salsa before she noticed you all come in. 

“There you guys are!” Robin scoots off of her seat and comes bounding towards Steve and Eddie, wrapping her arms around the both of them. You couldn’t smell her, but you could tell she was an alpha by the way she carried herself. Tall, with piercing eyes and a sureness about her that told you she could go toe to toe with someone if they messed with her. She was beautiful enough that she could be a model if she wanted to; someone who belonged on a magazine cover.

A smaller, mousier girl rounded the corner. Her curious eyes met yours instantly, and you quickly clocked her as a fellow omega. “Hey guys, who’s you’re friend?”

Robin takes a step back and peers around Steve until her eyes meet yours as well. “Woah, I didn’t even see you there.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You introduce yourself, and look over to Eddie and Steve to take care of the rest.

“Um, Bobbie, Vicki, we, uh…” Steve starts out confident but falters as he starts to overthink everything.

“This is our surrogate!” Eddie accidentally shouts, startling you and Vicki. Robin’s jaw practically hits the floor, eyes darting back and fourth between the two men before landing on you.

“Wait, so you’re pregnant? Who’s is it? Did you guys do like a russian roulette thing or did they like mix your swimmers together and shoot them up her--”

“Robin!” Steve steps forward with his hands up, clearly distressed as Eddie practically keels over with how hard he’s laughing.

“Hi, I’m Vicki.” Her voice pulls you from the commotion in front of you. You take her soft hand in yours and give her a small smile.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you guys since I’ve been here.”

“Oh? Do-do you live here?” Her head tilts with confusion. You nod, your confirmation somehow catching Robin’s attention.

“Wait, she lives here?”

“Yes, she lives here,” Steve says, backing up to address the room. He gestures to you, “And she’s not pregnant. We just got back from the doctor to confirm it.”

“Awe,” Robin pouts, “I’m sorry. I just heard surrogate and assumed she was already pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully that’ll change here soon.”

“That’s so exciting though!” Vicki claps her hands together excitedly. “A little baby Steve or Eddie running around here.”

“Oh, god,” Robin laughs, “Which reminds me that you didn’t answer my question. How are you doing the dad thing?”

“Maybe we should go sit in the living room, then we can give you all the juicy details,” Eddie says, opening his arms to herd everyone into the other room.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Robin--” 

“No, sorry, that was a rhetorical what.”

Robin and Vicki sit across from the couch you’re sharing with Steve and Eddie, who just explained to them the basics of your arrangement. Vicki, though confused at times, seemed to be doing her best to understand the dynamic of your situation. Robin, however, listened the whole time with an open mouth smile as if she’s not heard a better story in her life.

“I’m just…I don’t know. Like obviously I’m happy for you guys. Do,” She looks at you with wiggly brows as she says “do”, “whatever works for you.” She pauses for a moment to look up at the ceiling before looking back down. “Can I ask you a question though?”

“Robin,” Steve growls, and you feel both boys subtly move closer to you. 

“Guys, it’s okay. Seriously.” You scoot util you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning away from them. “Ask away.”

“Thank you,” Robin says, shooting Steve and Eddie a look. “I’m just curious about what you’re getting out of this. Sure, they’re taking care of you now, and they’ll take care of you until the baby is born. Then they get the baby and live happily ever after…But what about you? Like, you’re just going to go through something super traumatic and beautiful…and then you’re going to leave?”

You’re taken aback a bit by the question. It was all lined out in the contract that you’d give birth and then your role would be complete. What else was there to do? You’d hope that they’d maybe let you recover a bit before finding your own place, but they weren’t obligated to. 

But the more you think about it, the more you actually hate the idea of not being around them.

“She’s going to stay here with us until she feels comfortable enough on her own.” Eddie speaks up after a tense silence took over the room.

“I get that, but, like, are you guys going to stay in contact? Is she going to stick around and play nanny to her own kid?”

“Robin.” Steve stands up abruptly, throwing everyone off guard. “I need to talk to you in private. Please.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for all of you--”

“Please.” You feel yourself shutter as the air in the room shifts. You feel Eddie flinch, and Robin’s jaw snaps shut. She stands up without another word and the two of them head out the back door, leaving you to feel awkward with Eddie and Vicki.

“So,” Vicki finally says after a moment, “How’s the shop going Eddie?”

The two of them talk like old friends, doing their best to add you into the conversation so you feel included. At some point, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders on the back of the couch, his knee resting on top of your leg like it had earlier at the doctor’s office. 

“Nothing alcoholic for you I’m guessing?” Robin leans into you so you can hear her over the loud music of the bar. 

“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so it’s okay, right?”

She shrugs at you, “I guess you better ask the dingus’s if it’s okay.”

Steve and Eddie stood a few feet away talking to each other about something you couldn’t hear. Hopping down from your seat, you walk over to them, their conversation coming to an end as soon as you get close enough.

“Everything okay?” You shout.

“Yeah, fine,” Eddie says in a clipped tone, turning his body completely away from Steve to face you. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Robin wants to know if it’s okay if I have a drink. I know I’m not pregnant but I figured I’d ask.” Steve looks at Eddie, then at you, frustration written all over his face.

“As long as it’s not going to affect your heat,” Steve shrugs before walking away. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say to him. 

“It’s nothing. Why don’t we get you a drink, huh?” Eddie takes your hand and walks with you back to the bar side. “Oh, and be careful around Vicki. She might not look it, but that girl will drink anyone under the table.”

“Noted,” you chuckle.

The four of you do a round of shots after Robin insisted, your face pinching at the after taste of the tequila. Eddie laughs and takes your hand, bringing the lime in it to your mouth to suck on. You take it and are relieved to have the palette cleanser on your tongue. 

“Wow, you took that like a champ!” Vicki shouts. She’s clearly a social drunk, opening up more now that she has a little something in her system. Robin, however, shifts from her seat suddenly, a concerned look on her face.

“I’m gonna go find Steve,” she says with a slight slur. When she takes a sideways step, Vicki follows after her, making sure she stays standing on her quest to find Steve.

“I don’t know why they’re looking for him,” Eddie shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “I was just out there to check on him.”

Eddie had been periodically going out to bring Steve drinks for the last hour and a half. Apparently he ran into a old friend from high school and they’d been shooting the shit the whole time. Eddie told this to Robin, too, but the more she drank the more concerned she became.

“She’s a good friend.” You say, looking up at him with a sideways smile.

“Yeah, she is. Funny as hell, can’t handle her alcohol at all.”

“I guess so,” you giggle. You play with the straw in your glass while Eddie finishes off his beer, setting it down on the bar before wiping his mouth with his hand.

“You know, I used to play shows here,” he says, looking down at you with lidded eyes.

“Oh, really?” You knew Eddie played guitar. He has a whole room dedicated to music and his guitars on the opposite end of the house. You haven’t gotten to see him play, but you sometimes here the low strumming coming from the room on his days off.

“Yep, me and my old band. We’d play for, like, 20 drunk guys on Tuesdays. It was fun.” There’s a nostalgic gleam in his eyes as he recalls fond memories from his younger years.

“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a lot of action here, too,” you say, nudging his arm with your elbow. He barks back a laugh, shaking his head.

“God, I wished I had. Believe it or not, I was a total loser back in the day.”

“What? Really? No one was throwing themselves at the guitar player?”

“No, unfortunately I wasn’t any of the 20 drunk guys type,” he said with a sarcastic lit.

“Damn, I would have been,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “That was totally my type back then. Still is I guess.” The alcohol in your system starts to take over, lowering your inhibitions and bringing out the chatty side of you. 

“My ex was a bassist for this suuuuper shitty band. Don’t know how they managed it, but they toured with a couple other bands, opening for them and whatever. Anyway, I went on the road with him because I didn’t trust him. Shouldn’t have even bothered quitting my job and leaving my hometown just to make sure he stayed faithful, because he ended up fucking soul bonding with our fucking waitress at a Denny’s in Michigan.”

“Soul bonding?” 

You look up at Eddie, his brows pinched in confusion. “Yeah, you’ve never heard of it?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, when you see someone for the first time and you instantly become bonded to them. Like permanent marking without the bite.”

“Woah,” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I didn’t know that was even possible.”

“I don’t think it happens super often, but apparently it had to happen to my ex right in front of my face.”

“How do you even know? Like that you’re bonded to someone?”

“All I know for alphas is that they can’t get it up for other omegas, only the one that they’re bonded to. For omegas you can get super sick if you try to have sex with another alpha. I think you can drop, too. You also, like, really feel attached to that person, even if you don’t know anything about them and already have a girlfriend.”

“Wow, that’s crazy,” Eddie says, visibly astonished. 

“I guess,” you mumble. Eddie finally catches on to your disgruntlement after the shock wears off. He puts his arm around your waist and pulls your side flush with his. 

“Well, that’s his loss. Stupid bond or fate or whatever it is. And I know it still feels shitty, but I feel like…it was a good thing. Because if you had stayed with that chump then we wouldn’t be here now, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” You didn’t really think much into the meaning of Eddie’s words. Especially not when he asked if you wanted to go with him to get some fresh air while he smoked.

The cool air hitting your face felt so refreshing compared to the heat from the packed bar. There weren’t many people out on this back patio, most of the noise coming from the front smoking area.

“Want one?” Eddie asks, offering you a cigarette from his pack.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t know what it is, but the way Eddie uses his teeth to pull a cigarette out of its box makes you feel a type of way. You’re sure it’s from the alcohol, but you also couldn’t deny that he was attractive anyway. He was rough, tatted, smelled amazing. But he was also gentle, caring and attentive. In another reality, maybe the two of you could have been meant for each other.

“Take a picture, sweetheart,” Eddie teases. You had been staring at him and he caught you. But, at the moment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Not as good as the real thing,” you say matter of factly.

“Hmmm, got me there.” The smoke bellows from his lips as he talks, being swept away with the wind. The chill cuts through for you, making you visibly shake.

“Come’er,” Eddie says, opening his arms for you to embrace him again. You rush into him, your face colliding with the material of his chore jacket. It smells faintly of the grease from his work, but mostly of his natural scent that you gladly let invade your sinuses. He wraps his arms around you, letting his lips land on the crown of your head. The heat of his body instantly warms you up and you feel…at home.

“Eddie.” You move your face from his chest, looking up at him as his face is mere inches from yours. He barely gives you a second to think before his lips are crashing into yours. The feeling of fireworks erupting in your mind has you gasping It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt in a kiss before. You stand in shock, not fully processing what’s happening until you feel him pulling away.

“Are you okay?” His eyes shift between yours, looking for an answer to his question before you can speak it.

“Eddie…you kissed me…”

“Yeah…and?” He says it so passively, as if he doesn’t have a whole husband standing on the other side of the building. 

“But--But, Steve-- I--I don’t--”

“Didn’t you say free game in the contract?” 

You’re suddenly very aware of how very hard Eddie is as he’s pressed up against you and it sends an ache straight to your core. You did say that you’d be willing and available any time that Steve or Eddie wanted you…

You look up at Eddie through your lashes and nod. The devilish grin on Eddie’s face gives you the chills. And when he kisses you again, it melts those chills away, stoking the flame building up inside you. 

Shuffling feet and slamming doors, Eddie pins you against the door of the men’s restroom door. Your lips move feverishly against each others, fighting for dominance in your drunken stupor that you would have given into easily otherwise.

Eddie fumbled with his belt until it finally came undone, wasting no time to get his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock and heavy balls. You mimick his actions, undoing your jeans and pushing them down with your panties in one quick motion, letting them pool at your ankles.

He pulls away from you, a line of spit that connects your lips to his red, kiss bitten ones. His eyes are glassy as he looks you up and down, giving you that predatory glare that you’d became accustomed to from your previous times together. 

Suddenly, he’s spinning you around until your facing the bathroom door, leaving stickers and old posters to fill your vision. One of Eddie’s rough hands lands on your hip, pulling on you until your bent at just the right angle while the other grabs his hard cock to rub between your legs. He collects your wetness on his cock, and you gasp when you feel the head catch on your clit.

“Mmm, fuck.” The alcohol on his breath hits your nose as Eddie leans forward, his hand is braced against the door next to your head and pressing you into the cold metal. You feel his hard, broad chest against your back, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

Not a moment later you feel him breech your entrance. The stretch takes your breath away, feeling so different when you’re not under the haze of your heat. He stutters as he works you open for him, doing his best to restrain himself from just pushing all the way into you. A high pitch whine escapes your lips when his head hits that sweet spot.

“Right there, baby girl?” Eddie huffs in your ear, repeating the same movement with a sharp thrust. 

“Yes!” You cry out at the sensation, nodding your head vigorously. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he says, nosing his way into the crook of your neck leaving sloppy kisses into your skin as he starts to thrust into you over and over. 

His cold hand sends shivers through you as it snakes it’s way under your shirt, pushing under your bra to grab and fondle your tits. He pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, the feeling sending shocks straight to your core. It all feels like too much already, but when his other hand travels down between your legs, you feel like your legs might buckle under you.

Your vision goes white as you come undone, pussy clenching around Eddie’s cock as he fucks you through it. He groans as you squeeze his cock, panting against your ear as his pace starts to pick up. His arm around your waist is putting in work to hold you up as you come back to reality, your legs feeling like jelly from how hard you came. 

“Fuck, I wanted to do this all night,” Eddie babbles breathlessly. “Wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter when you came downstairs. Who are you all dolled up for, huh?” 

You had gone the extra mile getting ready to go out tonight. It was totally because you wanted to look nice, and nothing at all to do with Steve and Eddie. You totally weren’t trying to get their attention with your low cut top and vanilla perfume. 

At least, that’s what you were telling yourself. 

“N-no one,” you squeak out between thrusts. Eddie huffs out a laugh, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away from you. His hands hold you up by the hips, keeping you in place as he plows into you.

“No one, huh? You’re just dressed up for anyone and everyone to look at you? Hoping you might catch someone’s attention out here?”

“Maybe,” you say. It was meant to be teasing. You weren’t really sure why he was so concerned about people looking at you to begin with. 

But Eddie didn’t like that answer. 

“Sounds like I need to remind you who you belong to,” Eddie says with a low growl. And when you thought his pace couldn’t get any more relentless, he started to fuck into you with purpose, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He angles himself to hit that spot inside of you again, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm at lightening speed. 

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“That’s right, say my name, sweetheart.”

You chant his name like a prayer until he answers. Your orgasm hit’s you like truck, leaving you speechless as you cum harder than you ever have outside of your heat. Eddie follows right after you, pushing himself flush as he cums deep inside of you, filling you with his hot seed.

“Goooooooood damn,” he groans, keeling over you with full body shutters. More grunts and moans pour from him as he stills, giving you the chance to start to come down as the overstimulation stops. 

Just as you feel your post orgasm clarity kick in, you notice a familiar swelling feeling starting to grow inside of you.

“Woah, woah, hold on!” You straighten yourself, pulling away from Eddie as quickly as you can before his knot fully locks inside of you. Turning around, you watch as the base of his cock swells into a ring of muscle around his shaft.

“Ahhhhh, shit,” Eddie says, grabbing his knot and shaft with his hands, taking his bottom lip between his teeth with a pained expression. 

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you say with genuine concern. You’ve heard about how sensitive a knotted alpha’s cock can be when an omega’s body can’t keep it covered. Apparently any little bit of friction is torture, like sandpaper to an exposed nerve.

“Fuck, why did you pull away?”

A sudden thunderous knock has the both of you jumping. The both of you adjust your clothing back to place, Eddie tucking his still hard cock into the waistband of his jeans, before opening the door. 

Fully prepared to do a walk of shame past a stranger out of this bar’s men’s bathroom, your blood go cold when you find yourself face to face with Steve. He looks straight at you, an anger in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“Oh, hey, babe,” Eddie stutters out, clearly more worried about his own problem rather than being caught by his husband fucking another person in a bathroom. Steve doesn’t even look up at Eddie, his beautiful Hazel eyes locked on you. 

“Both of you, go get in the car,” Steve finally says after what feels like an eternity. “We’re leaving.” 

“Okay,” Eddie nods. He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your shoulders to walk you forward, when Steve grabs his hands and pushed them off of you. Eddie’s caught of guard by Steve’s actions, pure shock all over his face.

“What’s you’re problem?” He questions his husband. Steve wordlessly grabs you, pulling you out of Eddie’s way until you’re fully by his side.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Steve grits through his teeth. Eddie looks at Steve, the tension between them thick enough that you could cut it with a butter knife. 

“Fine,” Eddie finally says, storming off and leaving you with Steve.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was softer now. You dared to look up at him, his brows pinched with worry as he seemed to be looking you over.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine Steve.” 

“Did he cum inside you?”

The question has you reeling back. You didn’t know what to say. Obviously he knew the two of you fucked, but the queston didn’t seem to come from a place of anger. Rather, he seemed to be genuinely concerned if Eddie had finished inside of you.

“Y-yes?” You shift in place, as if acknowledging it suddenly made you hyper aware of the sticky feeling between your legs.

Steve sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration.

“I’m sorry. He gets handsy when he’s drunk. I don’t know why he didn’t just come to me.” Steve moves closer to you, his arms positioned as if he was going to wrap them around you. But, he suddenly backs away with an almost anguished look.

“Steve, I’m so-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.”

You’re honestly not really sure what Steve is upset about at this point. Maybe there was something that him and Eddie discussed outside of your arrangement that you didn’t know about? It was probably too much to bring up tonight, but you would definitely need to sit down and talk with them about boundaries first thing tomorrow.

The drive home was anything but quiet. You were almost afraid to get in the car since Steve had been drinking, too, but he assured you he wouldn’t put you or Eddie in danger if he felt he couldn’t drive. Steve drove home white knuckling the steering wheel as Eddie lets out little whimpers and moans from his seat.

You thought his knot would have gone down by now, but his inebriated state and the pressure of the seatbelt across his lap was making him miserable. You felt awful for having to leave him in that state, watching him subtly buck against the strap to feel any sort of friction. But the idea of being locked to him when Steve found the two of you was like a scenario from your nightmares after how upset he was earlier.

When Steve pulled into the driveway, Eddie sighed in relief, unbuckling his seatbelt with lightening speed and hopping out of the car as soon as it stopped moving. Just as Eddie was about to open the front door, Steve stepped out of the car and called for him to wait. Eddie looked back with distress, waiting and watching as Steve rounded the car to let you out.

“I want the both of you upstairs as soon as we get inside, waiting for me on the bed, without touching each other until I get there. Do you both understand?”

Steve’s scent penetrates your nose, putting you in a submissive haze that has you nodding without question. You walk to the door, Eddie’s eyes on you as you push past him into the house and up the stairs. 

You sat quietly on the edge of Eddie and Steve’s bed. After a few minutes Eddie pushes through the bedroom door, a prominent wet spot visible on his tee shirt where his precum had been dribbling out from the constant stimulation. He didn’t say anything to you, instead he sat next to you on the bed, just far enough away that you wouldn’t be touching each other. A whimper escapes his lips when his jeans drag down his still hard cock, the outline of it visible as it presses against his shirt.

“Did I get you in trouble?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You keep your eyes on the carpet between your feet, not having the courage to look at Eddie in the face.

Eddie huffs out a choked laugh, his curls bouncing in your peripherals.

“I got myself in trouble,” Eddie’s voice has a sultry lit to it, “But…the punishments are always worth it.”

Before you could really process what his words might mean, Steve pushes open the bedroom door, causing you to jump where you sat. The look on his face was unreadable, which made you feel more uneasy than if he was wearing his anger in his features. 

You take the opportunity to look up at Eddie. His eyes were locked on Steve, a shit eating grin on his face as he looks his upset husband up and down. When you follow his line of sight, you see Steve’s cock is straining in his jeans.

“Undress. Now.” Steve commands, looking at you as if to see how you’d react. Eddie begins to pull his shirt over his head, putting his tattooed skin on display for you and Steve to admire.

When you realize that you’re not about to get a lecture, you waste no time in joining Eddie. You strip your clothes piece by piece, trying to keep up with how quickly Eddie is discarding his own. Once you’re down to your panties, Steve stops you before you can yank them down.

“Slowly,” he demands. His features hard as his eyes watch the way you slide your lacy panties down your thighs at a leisurely pace. You advert your gaze from his, focusing on removing your last article of clothing in a way that pleases Steve. 

As you pull the material down, you watch as a string of Eddie cum stretches, stuck on the crotch of your panties from where it had leaked out of you. It finally breaks as the panties reach your knees, the sticky spend clinging to the side of your leg.

Eddie curses under his breath, his vocalization snapping Steve out of whatever trance he was in. 

“Clean it up.”

Eddie looks up at Steve confused. Steve repeats himself, a thick finger pointing to your leg where the cum was sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You look back and forth between them, unsure of what you should be doing. 

When Eddie doesn’t move, Steve sighs, and grabs his hand, leading him over to you. He instructs Eddie to get on his knees, which he does without question, his big, brown eyes on Steve as he waits for further instruction.

“Ugh, do I have to walk you through it?” Steve asks with annoyance. But he doesn’t give Eddie the chance to answer before he’s grabbing the back of his head and guiding it between your legs.

“You made this mess Eddie. Clean. It. Up.”

Eddie’s tongue making contact with your skin startled you, making you instinctively jerk back. The bed behind you keeps you from moving very far, Eddie’s tongue chasing you as you move. You watch in awe as Eddie laps up his own cum from your skin, his blown out pupils looking up at you as moving higher and higher up your leg.

Just as Eddie’s about to reach the apex between your legs, Steve pulls him back by his hair. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he lets out a low grown from the force. He smiles up at Steve, whose expression is back to being stony and unreadable.

Steve says your name, making you stiffen at the sudden attention.

“I want you on your back, head down here,” he says, pointing to the foot of the bed. You wait for a moment for any further instruction, but Steve only punctuates his demand with a sharp, “Now.”

You do as instructed, your head at the foot of the bed and your feet almost to their pillows. Steve tuts, motioning you to move further down the bed until your head is hanging off the edge slightly. After he hums in approval, he directs his attention back to Eddie, whose cock jumps in excitement when his husband looks down at him.

“Don’t get too excited,” Steve says, tugging at Eddie’s hair again.

“Kinda hard not to when you do that, big boy,” Eddie breathes out, his toothy smile on display. Steve sucks in a sharp breath before letting go of his grip on Eddie’s hair. He points towards the head of the bed where your feet lay.

“I want you to get yourself nice and comfortable between her legs,” Steve nods towards you, “because I want you to use your tongue to get every last drop of your cum out of her pussy.” Eddie’s eyes light up, but Steve continues on. “Ah, ah, let me finish. This isn’t a reward. I don’t want you to touch her with anything other than your mouth. No. Hands. And you’re not going to touch yourself either. Do you understand?”

If Steve’s stipulations were meant to upset Eddie, he surely didn’t succeed as Eddie still nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. When Steve gave him the go ahead, Eddie sprang up from where he was on the floor and up onto the bed. The mattress dipped and shook as he crawled over your body, using his hands to part your legs so he could make himself comfortable there. You let out a giggle at his animated movements, his hands rubbing together before settling his face an inch away from your pussy.

“I do want to apologize in advance,” he says, looking as if he’s talking to your pussy instead of you. “I’m a big fan. Never been so close to one of you in person before, though. But I’ll do my best.” 

You gasp as Eddie presses his face into your heat, his tongue darting out to lap between your folds. He’s sloppy with his movements as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. When he gets to you clit, your body jumps from the sensation and you see his eyes light up at your reaction. He repeats his movement again and again, giving you pressing kitten licks that send jolts throughout your body with each one.

A hand lands on your cheek, wrapping around your chin until it has your lips puckering in its grip. Steve tilts your head back to look at him, but all you see is his thick cock hovering over your face, blocking Steve from your view.

“Open up, sweet girl,” Steve coos at you, his thumb tapping against your cheek. You open your mouth without protest. “Mmm, such a good girl,” he says, grabbing his cock and tapping the head on your tongue. His precum lands on your tongue and you moan at the taste. 

Eddie’s tongue suddenly breaches your hole, the muscle digging deep inside of you as he laps away at the cum he left inside of you at the bar. Steve takes advantage of your gasp, pushing himself inside of your wet mouth, just enough to not trigger any gag reflex you might have. 

Between Eddie’s tongue and Steve’s cock, you feel borderline dizzy at the push and pull sensation of being between them. Steve’s large, alpha cock stretches your mouth to its limits while Eddie’s inexperienced tongue works over you, testing to see what makes you tick until he’s got you bucking against his face.

When Eddie gets his tongue as deep as he can possibly reach it, his nose presses into your clit roughly, moving in a way that has you suddenly seeing stars. Your thighs clamp around him, locking his head in place as you soak him with your slick. Steve lets out a groan as you moan around his cock, his hand suddenly on your throat as he stills himself. 

You brace yourself the best you can to take his cum, but he pulls out of you completely instead. 

“Fuck, move!” He shouts, motioning for Eddie to leave his spot between your legs. Eddie pries himself from your thighs and scrambles to get out of Steve’s way.

“C-can I--” Eddie stutters in a pussy drunk state, grabbing his cock in his hands and pumping the almost purple tip slowly.

“Do whatever you want,” Steve says between gritted teeth, positioning himself on his knees before guiding his cock towards your entrance. Eddie rounds the bed, taking over where Steve left, positioning himself over your. You open your mouth for him and he chuckles, pushing his cock past your lips as far as you’ll let him go. He whines again, beginning to fuck your mouth while his knot presses into your nose with every other thrust. You can’t quite take the whole thing, so you wrap a hand around it for extra stimulation.

At the same time, the head of Steve’s cock pushes inside of you, slipping in without much resistance after all of Eddie’s efforts to work you open tonight. He slides himself inside of you until he’s fully inside before he begins to rock into you with sharp thrusts. 

When you gag hard after a particularly hard thrust from Steve, Eddie stops his movements and lets the momentum of your body do all the work. You feel Eddie lean forward over you. From the angle you’re in, all you can see is Eddie’s balls swinging in front of your face, but you can hear the smacking sounds of Steve and Eddie kissing over your body as they fuck you. It hits you hard how you’re being used as nothing more than a toy for their pleasure, the realization sending you full throttle towards another orgasm. 

“Shit,” you hear Steve hiss. And not even a moment later, you feel him push his cock as far inside of you as possible, his hot spend filling up your spasming walls as you continue to cum hard on his cock. 

“Oh my god--” Eddie huffs, trying to pull his cock from your mouth. But you keep a firm grip, letting his seed hit your tongue and roll down your throat, swallowing over and over with every spurt.

After a synchronous moment of ecstasy, clarity begins to seep into each of you. Steve pulls out of you with a gasp, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you down until your head is back onto the bed, effectively pulling Eddie mostly out of your mouth. Eddie stumbles back the rest of the way, crouching down until he’s back on his knees, his head landing next to yours on the bed.

Steve leans over your, cupping your face in his hands and bringing your attention to him.

“Are you okay?” His concern is apparent in his pinched brows and shifting eyes. You smile up at him, leaning into his large palms and kissing a freckle there. He lets out a sigh of relief, pulling away from you to sit back on his haunches. 

Eddie shifts next to you, his tattooed arms folding around your neck as he presses his cheek into yours. 

“Did so good for us, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear, his lips pressing into your temple. You turn to face him, and he kisses you again, his lips pressing into yours softly. You can’t help but smile with how sweet it is.

But the kiss is broken as your suddenly pulled forward. Steve pulls your body into him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He’s glaring down at Eddie, whose only response is a knowing look and a raised eyebrow.

“Do you not want Eddie to kiss me?” Your voice pulls Steve’s attention. He hates how you’re looking at him, wide glassy eyes full of unwarranted concern.

“It--it’s not that,” Steve says, “it’s just…”

“Steve wants to kiss you too, but he thinks you don’t want to.”

“Eddie--” Steve shouts, scoffing at his husband.

“Steve, you can kiss me.” Steve tenses, his grip on you tightening. “I think it would be silly to say you can’t kiss me after letting you guys put your dicks in my mouth.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing another kiss to your cheek. 

“Come on, Stevie. How can you say no to this face?”

Steve’s eyes dart between yours and Eddie’s, the gears turning in his head to the point you were waiting to see steam come from his ears. He sucks in a breath and you’re certain that he’s going to say no. 

But, he brings a hand to your face, holding it in place as his lips meet yours. They’re soft, quite the contrast to Eddie’s rough, winter chapped lips. The fireworks feeling goes off in your mind again. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol with Eddie, but you’re too sober now to convince yourself. 

Steve deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that has your stomach flipping. You couldn’t help but keep comparing it to Eddie’s. Where Eddie’s kiss was one of desire, Steve’s feels greedy. The way he hold your head in place, it feels like he wants to consume you.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to separate you and Steve. “I’m gonna get hard again watching the two of you make out like that. So either we get ready for bed or I’m dinging the bell for round two.”

A second round didn’t sound too bad in theory, but the way your body felt like a bag of sand as soon as Eddie mentioned getting ready for bed had you voluntarily slinking off of their bed and onto shaky legs. Steve and Eddie stayed close behind, the three of you squeezing into their walk in shower and taking turns grooming each other. 

The days following up to the start of your heat were…mostly normal. Steve was busier with work as he tried to get everything in order before taking another week off. He spent a lot of time in his office, only coming out to get his plate and take it back behind the closed door. Though, he did add you to his pecking order, mindlessly kissing your temple and then Eddie’s as he read over reports or whatever kept him preoccupied. 

But where Steve was absent, Eddie was the opposite. Spending most of his free time with you while his husband was busy, Eddie followed you like a lost puppy. You kept him busy, though, having him help you prep for the three of you to all be cycling together. He helped you prep meals that would be easy to reheat, clean the house, and safety proof their bedroom, along with various other tasks that you could think of.

The day before your heat came, your body let you know by making you insatiably hungry and extremely exhausted. Steve and Eddie took their inducers when they noticed the changes, getting you settled for the day before the two of them would inevitably pass out as the drugs took effect, the tell tale sign of an alpha going into rut being their extended sleep period the hours leading up to the cycle.

As your body slowly started to slip into your heat, you felt yourself wanting to slip into Steve and Eddie’s room more and more. But as long as you still had some sense, you told yourself that you’d be spending the next week with them in their most feral state and to just enjoy the little time to yourself that you had.

But as you lay in your bed trying to sleep, all you could think about was what the outcome of this week was going to be. It would take a miracle for you to not get pregnant by one of them by the end of it all. You’d be lying if it didn’t scare you a little bit. After all of the things you’ve read in the pregnancy books Steve’s gotten for you, there’s no way that you wouldn’t be at least a little on edge.

The end is what was starting to scare you the most. Specifically how you would feel after the baby is born. Robin’s words from the other day playing back over and over in your head.

Even with the naturally nurturing disposition of your second gender, you hadn’t really considered yourself someone who wanted to be a mother. That was partly why you thought you’d be a good match for this gig. But you’d read that even betas go through hormonal changes that omegas go through when they become pregnant and give birth that bonds you with your baby.

You’d thought about bringing these concerns up with Steve and Eddie, but you decided that you didn’t want to stress them out. There was a contract saying you wouldn’t have any parental rights anyway, so it’s not like you had much choice on the matter at this point. 

The sound of slamming and clanking woke you up from your sleep. Your body was hot, your tongue stuck to the roof of your very dry mouth. Your mind was in a haze, the smell of alpha pheromones in the air was so thick that it was becoming  impossible to think of anything beyond your primal instincts.

Rolling out of bed, you follow the sounds down the stairs and into the kitchen. The mixed pheromones were so strong that you were gushing slick before you could even see the two of them.

The kitchen was a mess. Licked clean plates scattered all about the counter tops. You had a thought coming to your mind about hoping you prepped enough food, but it was quickly forgotten when you were suddenly pushed back against the wall behind you. 

The room spun with how fast you were moved. The sudden close proximity with your alphas had your knees buckling under you. Strong arms hold you up as got tongues lap at your skin. There’s a bit of growling between them, but your needy whines keep refocusing them on you.

Opening your eyes after a moment, you look at the two men before you. Goosebumps trail over your skin as you take in their feral forms. Everything about them is enhanced; they’re taller, bigger, having to hunch down for their mouths to connect with your skin. 

With almost empty looks in their eyes besides their almost completely blown out pupils, they remain locked on you as if you’d disappear if they looked away for even a moment. They man handled your clothes off you right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you fully exposed to them in a matter of seconds.

Without warning your being lifted off the ground and whisked away, back up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Your body lands softly on the bed, with Steve joining you first. His hot skin burned into you as your chests collide, the weight of his body pinning you down. Eddie took the opportunity to fully undress while you and Steve distracted each other. 

With all the heat and movement, you felt your slick starting to leak from between your legs. As soon as the first drop hit the bedsheets between you, Eddie and Steve stilled in their tracks. You felt a pang of fear as the air became thick with mixed alpha scents.

Eddie lunged towards you, but Steve was on the defense, covering you with his body as Eddie got closer. The bed shook as Eddie tried to pry Steve away from you. It got worse when Steve let go of you, and the two started going at it, wrestling each other on the bed next to you. You panicked, cloudy head unsure of what to do in the moment. 

After a beat, your instincts kicked in. Climbing on all fours, you began calling out to them. Your mewling got their attention off of each other long enough for them to see you presenting yourself to them. 

They pushed at each other as the crawled closer to you, a hand from each landing on either side of you as if they were making sure you would stay in place. You didn’t have much time to brace yourself as their tongues began to open you up, the two of them lapping at the slick just as soon as it was leaving your hole. And when it wasn’t enough, their tongues breach your entrance at the same time, fighting each other for who would get to go in deeper.

“Fuck,” you hear Eddie huff, and the bed starts to shift around behind you. Steve’s large hands take over, grabbing at your ass and spreading you apart more for him. His thick tongue is able to fully extend inside of you, darting in and out as he attempts to lick you clean. It feels insane, especially as his scruffy chin presses into your clit. 

Suddenly, your first orgasm hits you like a brick wall, coating Steve’s face as he drank you up. It didn’t last long, however, because Steve’s face was quickly pulled away from you, most likely by Eddie by the sound of Steve’s reaction.

As quick as Steve’s face was pulled away though, the tip of Eddie’s cock was being pressed against you. Wasting no time, he slid in with ease, giving you no time to adjust before bottoming out. You gasped at how full you felt with the way the head of his cock was pressing into your cervix with how big he had gotten. All the ache you felt from your heat was washed away with the feeling of your alpha’s cock inside of you.

Eddie leaned forward, pressing all his weight into you. You thought he was going to get right to pounding into you, but instead he started moved with a hard hitting grinding motion. As if every thrust was purposeful, punctuated.

His arms were wrapped around you as he fucked you, keeping you under him in a primal way. Humping away, his movements eventually became more rapid and sloppy. It was truly animalistic. His grunting and snarling against your skin reminded you of a feral dog growling at someone trying to take his food. 

When you felt something else prodding at your entrance you understood his reaction. You turned your head to get a better look and out of your peripherals you could see Steve from behind Eddie. Eddie started to slow, but it felt forced given the way he was whining in your ear. 

When Eddie pulled all the way out of you, leaving just the tip at your entrance, you felt Steve’s tip position itself just underneath Eddie’s. A gush of slick spilled from you at the anticipation. You were happy with just one of your alpha’s cocks in you, but getting to feel them both again had you calling out for them.

The two of them started pushing into you, stretching you open like nothing you’ve ever felt before as their large cocks made home inside of your generous pussy. The feeling of being so full had your eyes rolling back, and you came instantly as the both of them bottomed out. 

Eddie’s body shuddered against you, and Steve’s low groan let you know that they two of them were enjoying this just as much as you. Eddie began moving again, not liking that he had been made to stop in the first place. Steve followed after, moving in tandem with Eddie so that you were constantly being filled by at least one of their cocks at all times.

With every passing thrust you felt your brain become more and more like goo. You could only think of two words over and over in your head. Two words that fully expressed how you were feeling.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

You repeated the sentiment over and over, slightly muffled by the bedsheets your face was being pressed against. And you truly were thankful. You’d never felt so loved and cared for in your entire life that you felt being so connected with your two alphas in this moment. 

Steve started to pick up his pace, and the stimulation had you cumming again. “Holy fuck, that’s tight,” Eddie grits between his teeth, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. 

Everything became way too much very quickly. The constant state of pleasure had you cumming back to back without much of a break in between. At some point, you must have passed out because you woke up to the sound of arguing at the foot of the bed. 

Opening your eyes, you see Steve has Eddie pinned down on the bed, their cocks brushing against each other as Steve straddles Eddie to keep him down. Eddie had his muzzle on, and it makes you wonder what happened while you were passed out. 

“Wh-whats going on?” You manage to get out, shifting to move towards them.

They stop their fighting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, breath picking up suddenly. 

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, kneeling next to the two of them. The closer you get, the emptier you feel without the two of them inside you. “Miss my alphas.”

“Neither of you came,” you say, noticing the lack of cum inside you.

“You passed out,” Steve says, giving Eddie a pointed look. When you look at Eddie, you see that he’s actively fighting against Steve’s hold on him. He looked almost crazed, eyes locked on you. Dominant alphas are usually able to control themselves better during their ruts, but regressive alphas can be a little harder to handle, especially around an omega in heat.

“It’s okay, Steve,” you reassure. “I always want to help my alphas.” 

You place a hand on Steve’s where he’s holding down Eddie’s arm. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says wearily. “I think we need to reconsider--”

“Steve.” You say his name firmly. Hazel eyes shift has he looks between yours. With a heavy sigh his grip begins to relax against Eddie’s.

And no sooner does Eddie use all of his strength to send Steve flying half way across the room. 

Moving with a lightening speed, Eddie is on top of you in a flash. It’s almost frightening, but you can’t contain your excited giggles as Eddie sloppily attempts to mount you again. You hold his face in your hands, and he stops in place, wide brown eyes looking at you as if waiting for your next command. 

“Let Steve up here, first, okay?” You ask him. He nods, his hungry eyes not moving from yours, even as you peck his lips.

Patting the bed, you motion for Steve to rejoin you. The bed dips, shaking as Steve makes his way to the two of you. 

“Let me get behind you,” he says, placing a hand on your back to push you forward. Eddie moves with you, maintaining eye contact even as Steve maneuvers his way behind you. Only when you position yourself to sit on Steve’s cock does Eddie have a reaction, a low growl coming from his throat. You shush him, stroking his cheek soothingly.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” you coo, his name coming out as a moan as you lower yourself onto Steve’s hard cock. The feeling has your eyes rolling back again, making you lose the eye contact with Eddie.

In an instant, he’s pushing you back until your laying against Steve’s chest.

“Eddie, take it easy,” Steve hisses, trying to shift his position for Eddie to have better access to your pussy as well. His hand snakes around you and grabs onto Eddie’s cock making him gasp. He begins to thrust into Steve’s palm, moaning and huffing at the feeling of friction. 

Steve probably would have been content letting Eddie get off like this, but you were being just as whiny watching them. So Steve pulled out just enough and guided Eddie to your pussy once again. It took a couple tries, but he was able to get him in, and Eddie immediately began fucking into you with wreckless abandon. 

The movement got Steve worked up pretty quickly, following with Eddie’s pace to fuck into you again. Eddie hovered above you, practically drooling in his muzzle as his body moved on its own in and out of you. It turned you on to no end to see him so fucked out over you in this state. 

After a few moments, Eddie’s hand flew up above your head. His body stilled, cock twitching inside of you as you felt him about to cum. Steve was right behind him, both of their cocks deep inside of you as they began to cum. Warmth filled you, and at the same time their knots began to swell, effectively plugging you to take their seed. 

It felt like an eternity before they both stopped cumming, Eddie landing on top of you still trembling in the aftershocks. Steve was breathing heavily beneath you, arms wrapped around you tight as he finally started to calm down, too.

The three of you lay like that for a minute, before Steve makes the decision to shift the three of you on your sides.

“Ow,” Eddie says, sounding more lucid than he has since you woke up.

“Sorry, I couldn’t breath with the both of you on top of me.”

The position was awkward, but more so for the two boys than you. You think their discomfort led to their knots going down at a quicker pace, because as soon as they could they were separated from you. Eddie was out like a light, snoozing as soon as his head his the pillows.

Steve still held you tight, breathing in your scent. His lips touched the base of your neck, leaving a small kiss there. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

“Does what hurt?” You ask, unsure of what he’s referring to.

“Your neck, here.” He touches where his lips were.

“No? Should it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment.

“Do…you not feel any different…?”

“Not any different than I do during my heats,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this line of questioning.

Silence again. Steve says your name.

“Eddie…Eddie marked you. Or, he tried to…”

Your blood ran cold. When did he do that? It had to have been when you passed out. You’d definitely remember something like that happening.

“Steve--I--”

“It’s okay,” he shushes you. “I…I don’t think it worked…” Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t think he could mark you now anyway…”

“What do you mean?” You turn to look at Steve, a look of forlorn all over his face.

“Lets not talk about it right now.” His words become breathy, and you can feel him rubbing his scent on your skin. His hips move against you, and you can feel his hardness against you. 

After a few touches and some maneuvering Steve is back inside you once again. You’re trying not to be so loud that you wake Eddie, but Steve’s cock feels so good inside you. He’s working at an angle that has you gripping the sheets with white knuckles. 

When he brings his big hands around you to rub at your bud you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he huffs, still moving inside you. His grip around your chest gets tighter, pulling your back against his chest even more. “Tell me who’s fucking you right now. Who is it, baby?”

“You, Steve,” you moan. His demanding tone has you clenching around him even harder. It felt so right to be with him like this, but part of you was missing Eddie, too. It was tempting to wake him up to get him going again. But, you wanted to have your special time with Steve while you could.

“Such a good omega for me, aren’t you?” His words are slurred drunk on the feeling of your pussy hugging his cock so tight. “You’re going to be so perfect with my baby inside you.”

His words continue to make you dizzy. That’s all you want, isn’t it? To get pregnant with Steve and Eddie’s babies and live happily ever after with them. You want to be a good omega wife for them, you’d make them so happy wouldn’t you.

Steve’s movements become sloppy until he’s plunging himself as deep inside of you as he can go. His knot swells again as he fills you up for a second time; the second of countless more times you hope. 

You remember that you’ll be spending the next 5-7 days being passed back and fourth between your two alphas and it makes you so happy you can’t help but tear up.

“Hey, whats wrong?” Steve says, snapping out of his trance as soon as he hears your sniffles.

“Nothing’s wrong, Stevie.” You chuckle, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m just…really happy to be here is all.”

Steve melts at your words, burying himself in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, his hot breath fanning your skin as he presses kisses against it. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “He is, too,” he says, nodding towards Eddie’s still sleeping form. “He talks about you all the time. But I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me.”

“You guys talk about me that much?”

“Hmmm, probably more than two married men should.”

Your heart skips a beat. The heat of everything was lowering yours and Steve’s inhibitions. Would he ever tell you this if the two of you weren’t intoxicated on your own hormones?

There’s a comforting silence between the two of you. Eventually you drifted off to sleep again in Steve’s arms, his body heat keeping you warm while you slept.

You’re not sure what time it was when you felt your body being moved. You were being carried bridal style, and by scent alone you were able to tell it was Eddie. The soft click of a door closing had you opening your eyes, eyes adjusting to the low light from the sunsetting outside coming from the windows in the hall.

When you looked up at Eddie, he had taken his muzzle off, but still had a feral look in his eyes. Eyes that were darting around as he took you down the hall and into his music room.

You’d never been in it before. Not that you’d been explicitly told not to, but because Eddie told you that he liked to tend to it himself, so you chose not to enter out of respect. So when you found yourself inside, you couldn’t help but let yourself explore the room.

It was definitely very Eddie; walls painted red, band posters covering the wall, as well as a few frames with records in them. There was quite a collection of guitars and speakers that took up the rest of the wall space. 

Besides a desk with a computer, there was a small couch that also furnished the room. Eddie made a bee line for it once he closed the door behind him. He placed you down delicately and lowered himself to his knees. His eyes were locked between your legs, tongue darting out to lick at his lips as if he was a starved animal and you were his next meal.

“Eddie,” you say in a breathy tone. His eyes dart up, looking at you expectantly. “What do you want, Eddie?” 

“You. I want you.” His hands land on your knees, rubbing up and down your thighs sensually. The roughness of his fingers gives you goosebumps down your legs.

“Please,” he begs, eyes flickering back and forth between yours and between your legs. Your breath hitches and you nod, slowly parting your legs for him.

As soon as you’ve made yourself open for him, Eddie dives right in, feverishly devouring your sore, puffy pussy. You’re so sensitive already, but Eddie takes your gasps and moans as a good sign and keeps going.

Eddie’s large, tattooed arms wrap around your legs and pull you closer to the edge of the couch as you begin to shake. His mouth is attached to your pussy, drinking you up as you cum hard. Eddie makes an almost pained noise, his own body shaking against the couch after a few moments.

You look down, and the combination of how he looks with the sudden strong alpha smell in the room tells you that he just came. It only turned you on more when you realized it had to have been untouched, given his arms had been snug around your thighs this whole time.

“Awe, Eddie,” you coo, “Did you cum from eating me out?”

Eddie looks up at you pitifully, nodding with shame.

“I-I’m sorry,” he pouts, as if you’re going to scold him.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You cup his face in your hands. “You just really like eating pussy, and that’s okay.”

“Your pussy,” he corrects. “Yours. It’s the only one I’ve ever had.”

That fact heats up your body head to toe. You’ve been Eddie’s first everything when it came to him being with an omega. It made you feel so special to be able to give him something he’s never had before.

You shove Eddie down onto the plush carpet of the room, his eyes going wide as you climb on top of him. His leaky, still hard cock jumps in your hand as you pump it a few times. Eddie’s big eyes watch as you line him up with you, only for his head to fly back as you sink down onto his length.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, hands running over his face as you being to move, bouncing and grinding on his cock.

“Wanna be good for you, Alpha.” The words come out broken as you bounce up and down, hands digging into his tattooed chest when you start to pick up the pace. 

Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, and you think he’s going to stop you. Instead, he uses all his alpha strength to hold you up, adjusting his footing so he can drill upwards into you. It just about takes your breath away, your brain turning to mush as he fucks into you wildly.

He starts to say something under his breath that your brain can’t comprehend. It takes a few moments for you to get yourself together enough to register whatever prayer he’s repeating over and over.

“Get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant--”

His words send you over the edge, making you cum hard enough on his cock that your vision turns white, your body going limp in his grasp. He takes advantage of your pliant status, letting your upper half rest on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

A few more wild thrusts later and Eddie is almost howling as he starts to cum inside you. His knot swells faster than ever to lock you in place on him. His hips move weakly, still chasing the high until he finally stills, letting your weight rest fully on top of him.

The timer goes off in the kitchen downstairs, pulling you from your solo concert of Queen’s greatest hits that you had playing from one of Eddie’s speakers. You set the scrub brush you were using to clean the carpets down before running down the stairs to check on dinner.

The house had been cycle free for a full 24 hours, so Steve and Eddie had gone back to work this morning. With an empty house, you had taken the opportunity to do a deep clean of every square inch of the house. You tried not to think about how you’d spent the last 6 days being fucked on every imaginable surface in this house as you swept, scrubbed, and rinsed everything in sight. 

It also gave you a lot of time to think. To over analyze small thing Eddie or Steve said about you during your cycles that felt like there might be feelings budding between the three of you. 

Part of you wishes that it could be true, that there might be something growing of you within their hearts. 

But it also scares the shit out of you.

There’s no way you were about to be a homewrecker. The last thing you wanted was to think that there was a mutual bond with you and the boys, only to find out that it’s one sided. Or that only one of them feels something for you, leaving the other to feel betrayed and hate you. And it would kill you if either one of them hated you.

You shook your head in an attempt to rid you of your thoughts. The only reason this was happening was because of a contract. If you hadn’t answered that newspaper ad, you wouldn’t even be thinking these delusional thoughts. You’d probably be heading back home with your tail between your legs, begging your parents to let you move back in with them.

There was no way that was going to happen. You just needed to get pregnant and you’d be set for a little while longer.

The sound of the front door opening grabbed your attention. You set the casserole on the stove top and smoothed out our apron, waiting for Eddie to make his entrance.

“Hey there, sweet thang,” he greeted, hanging his keys on their hook and pulling his hair out of it’s ponytail. He still had a dark smudge on his cheek that he didn’t fully clean off before he left work. And when he took off his jacket his arms were put on full display for your eyes to take in.

Damn, were you feeling some residual from your heat?

“Hi, Eds,” you finally muster to say, turning your attention to pulling the plates out of the cabinet.

“Smells good in here,” Eddie says, grabbing the plates before you could, leaning down to kiss your lips. It lasted for a solid few seconds before he pulled away, carrying the plates to the table. 

You stood in shock. That obviously wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that felt so…domestic. The first that wasn’t attached to sex. You knew Eddie had been bold with you, even while Steve was around at times, but he’d never kissed you like that, where you ended up with butterflies in your stomach.

The front door opened again, but you were so engrossed in thought you didn’t really register it. 

“Hi babe,” you hear from beside you. Eddie greets Steve at the doorway to the kitchen, barely giving him the chance to set his keys on the hook before kissing him deeply. Deep enough it almost made you dizzy. 

Eddie and Steve were so in love it was almost disgusting in a cute way. If anyone deserved to have their own family it was them. Even when they two of them are deep in the trenches of their heat they would still make time for each other (which gave you a nice break from dealing with two alphas in rut).

“Jeez, Eddie, you act like I didn’t just see you this morning,” Steve chuckles, taking his coat off.

“I know,” he says with faux bashfulness. “I just missed my two favorite people a lot today.”

Steve looks at Eddie, then to you. For a moment you thought he was going to give you the normal distant routine and you mentally prepared yourself for it. 

But after a blink, he sauntered over to the stove, stopping right in front of you. One hand landed on your hip, the other on your cheek. Your heart began to beat like a drum as he leaned in. And when his lips met yours, it felt like fireworks. Like you’d won some major award.

And then you were being crushed. Eddie’s arms took the two of you into a tight hug, almost lifting you both off of the ground. His laugh echoed the kitchens as Steve ordered him let you both go.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he says, pecking the both of you on the side of the head.

“Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.”

thanks for reading!

[januaryembrs]

i love your sunshine!reader x specer fics so much and ngl it's one of the best spencer fics i've ever read. i was wondering how the team would react to them dating? did anyone ever suspect that there was something going on between them or were they completely clueless??

PDA | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

description: Sunshine reader is worried about telling Unit Chief Prentiss about their budding relationship, despite Spencer telling her she's being dramatic.

length: 1.8k

warnings: fluff, TINY BIT OF HOTCHNISS BECAUSE I AM STILL MAD ABOUT THEIR SCENE AT JJ'S WEDDING I have never been blue ballsed so hard.

“Sweetheart, I think you need to calm down,” Spencer’s voice was calm and soothing, as was his hand that skirted down her arm to take hers in his own. Her palm was warm, the tiniest bit clammy as he meshed their fingers together, and stroked over the back of her knuckles with his thumb, “It’s only Emily,” 

“I know, I know, it’s just,” She conceded, and she smushed her face into his chest as a last ditch effort to revel in his affection before they had to go back to remaining professional, the elevator quickly approaching the sixth floor, “I feel like we’re breaking the rules. Are you positive it said nothing in the papers about workplace relationships?” 

“I would stake my life on it, believe me. Me and page fifty nine, sub section five, clause three are tight as can be,” Spencer reassured, after he had spent a good seven minutes reading through their entire contract, front and back, in an attempt to make her feel better because she knew she couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it, even more so couldn’t keep her hands and lips off Spencer for such an extended amount of time now she’d had him.

He watched the illuminated digits flick from four to five, and he yielded his restraint just the tiniest bit, knowing they might not get a chance to love on eachother so unapologetically until the work day was over. Spencer brought his hand that wasn’t wound tightly in her own around her shoulders, squeezing her to him with a pressed kiss to her forehead, the gesture full of eight hours worth of affections. 

Five turned to six just a little too fast for his liking and he was forced to let go of her as the doors slid open, trying to ignore the saddened expression on her face as they parted, the way her lips turned into a pout like a kicked puppy. 

“Good morning, my angels!” Penelope chirped, a sweet coffee with a buttload of creamer swirling around her octopus mug as she headed for her office, walking right past the two agents who looked like they’d forgotten how to behave normally. 

“Morning, Penelope,” She sang back, smiling at the woman who hummed as she walked, a skip in her step, yet the second the tech analyst entered her lair, the younger slapped a hand on Spencer’s arm, turning to him with wide eyes, “Oh my god, she knew!” 

He chuckled, shaking his head and resting a hand on her lower back, leading her to the bullpen as she fretted, “Relax, she did not know. And even if she did, we’re not doing anything wrong,” He cooed, thankful that the floor was empty besides Emily where she poked around her office, moving some folders between her desk and cabinet, “Derek dated pretty much every woman on the second floor within the first term of me being here, Penelope dated Kevin from Internal Affairs for years,” 

“But that’s, like, between floors, between departments. There’s no way they can get distracted if there’s a whole bunch of concrete and carpet between them,” She explained, and the two of them headed for their joint desk so they could set their bags down, “When I look at you, I get side tracked thinking about your beautiful hair and your stupidly handsome face and kissing you and-” She puffed her cheeks out, flustered already. 

“That sounds really difficult for you, I don’t know how you ever get anything done.” Spencer said with an indulging smile, because his favourite thing might just be humouring her. Besides kissing her and everything that came with it ofcourse.

“It’s a struggle, I’ll tell you now,” She said, almost unaware he wasn’t being serious as she looked at him finally, the glint in his eyes he got when he was teasing her, “It is. I nearly tipped coffee over my lap yesterday because you fixed your hair, it’s infuriating.”

He smiled, fighting every urge in him that wanted to pull her back into his chest and kiss her face a dozen times, because he knew she wasn’t joking when she said she was worried about breaking the rules. He knew Emily would be fine with them dating, they’d all turned a blind eye to the clear tension and lingering glances that had gone between her and Hotch for years, but he hated seeing her so frazzled, so he complied with her strict no PDA rule. 

He would just have to give it to her twice over later, when they were alone, and the thought of it excited him already. 

“Alright, alright, let’s do this. Am I speaking or are you speaking?” She asked, rubbing her sweating hands over her legs, and he shrugged. 

“I’ll do the talking, will you just do something for me,” He said, his voice calm and collected as he took the stairs, her footsteps nervously trailing behind him. 

“Sure, anything,” She said, looking up at him with wide eyes where he stood a whole step above her. 

“Take a deep breath,” He reminded her, grinning when he heard her pause and do as he’d said, because this was just Emily. 

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, meeting him at the top of the landing, where he waited by the office door, watching her with gentle eyes, “I just really don’t want to mess anything up, least of all with you,” 

He quickly tucked a slither of hair behind her ear in guilty pleasure, “You’re not messing anything up, I promise.” He murmured, his cadence low and calming because she already seemed worked up and they hadn’t even opened the door, “You ready?” 

She nodded after another deep breath, and he knocked on the door with those boney knuckles of his. 

Barely waiting for Emily to invite them in, he strode into the office, her trailing behind him like she was waiting for a scolding, and Spencer simply cleared his throat. 

“Everything okay?” Emily asked, her dark eyes scanning between the two of them, a look of concern flitting over her face, “Why do you guys have a weird look on your face? Did you chip Penelope’s mug again? Was it the good one? Oh man, she’ll kill you, that was her favourite-”

The rookie shook her head, and before she could breath and regulate like Spencer had been trying to tell her it happened; the word vomit she’d been shoving down for fifteen days, “We’re dating! We’re seeing each other together, I mean were seeing together, I mean wait, hang on-” 

Spencer put a hand on her shoulder to hush her, and she stopped then and there, sensing he could take over for her, because she’d quickly realised she was not one to handle pressure. 

“What she means to say is we’re dating, and according to page fifty nine, sub section five, clause three of our contract, workplace relations are acceptable as long as they aren’t hindrance to either the team or the work, so,” Spencer tucked his hand into his pocket, the other still gentle as it stroked her back soothingly, “Is that okay?” 

Emily shrugged, her lips twitching to hide the broad smile that begged to be released. 

“That seems reasonable to me,” She said politely, looking to where the rookie seemed to have found her words. 

“Th-that’s it, we’re not in trouble?” She asked on bated breath, her brows furrowed and confused. 

“Look, are you guys happy?” She nodded vehemently immediately, and Emily threw her hands up, “Then, there you go. As long as there’s no funny business in the office, it’s none of my concern,”

“Funny business?” She asked, and Spencer ran a hand over her braid she’d twisted into running down the back of her head, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he and Emily exchanged a look.

“No bang bang on company time,” Emily said plainly, ignoring the way the girl stiffened, her face hot and embarrassed as she shook her head. 

“Never, no, never. Never ever,” She spluttered, and Spencer took it as his signal to get her some space, “None of that ever, Emily, you don’t have to worry-”

“Who broke the rookie?” Tara asked, entering Emily’s office with a stack of folders in her arms, her eyes quickly zeroing in on the way Reid’s arm wrapped around her waist, and she turned to Emily with a knowing smirk, “You owe me ten bucks, Prentiss,” 

“Hold on, you guys bet on us?” Spencer asked, his expression dropping because he’d thought that the two of them had been subtle the past few weeks, even if his sweet girlfriend looked like she was keeping bees in her mouth every time there was a pause, like the secret had been begging to come out any second it got. 

Emily seemed guilty, though perhaps scathed would be a better term as she fished a bill out of her purse and handed it to Tara. 

“JJ owes forty, so I’m not too torn up about it,” She replied, catching JJ’s bluebell hues as she swanned past the office window, her eyes narrowing on the way the youngest agent was all but pressed into Spencer’s ribcage, the two of them looking like they wanted the ground to swallow them whole. 

Her face morphed into chagrin, “Two more weeks, and I would have been up by sixty bucks, you guys,” She bit at the happy couple, turning on her heel to where Luke was sipping coffee at his desk, clueless to the meeting they were having in Emily’s office, “Alvez, cough up. They told Emily already,” 

There was some sound of indignation from the desks below as Luke rummaged through his wallet, and Tara looked like that cat that got the cream as the wads of dollar bills made their way to her. 

“This is gross misconduct of workplace trust,” Spencer said, his lips pursed into something annoyed, and he could feel the way her face burnt with embarrassment without even having to look at her, “Alright, we are going out to get coffee, since we’re the only ones who know how to handle things like adults,” 

He led her out with a tight, protective grip, shielding her mortified expression from the rest of the office as they got back into the elevator, and he damned himself when he let her hug into his chest again, though this time it was to hide her humiliation in his shirt. 

“It’s okay, at least it’s out there now. No more secrets,” He comforted, and she nodded silently, her cheeks still on fire where the shame weaselled its way out of her face, “And, hey, it’s not like they can go on forever. They’ll have to give up some time,”

The group watched the doors close behind them, Luke immediately turning to the three women with an impish look in his eye, “Twenty says they’ll engage within a year,” Tara scoffed, waving her money in his face as Emily rooted around for more money, “You’re on, I give it eight months,”

[springtyme]

heyy love, could you do an aaron hotchner x fem bau reader where they dated in secretly for a while but then he broke up with her. the reason he broke up with her is because he is her boss and that always was something that made him feel doubtful about their relationship. it’s up to you if you want to end it with an happy ending.

thank youu

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ♡

Thank you so much for the request, dear anon! Such a lovely one and I was so happy to write for Hotch! mwah <3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: You suspect that you've been in love with Aaron Hotchner since you first laid eyes on him three years ago. Now you're on your way to Idaho to go on your first case together since he broke your heart two weeks ago.

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: Angst and fluff. Boss/employee relationship. Hurt/comfort. Heartbreak. Kissing. Sharing a bed. (first time I write for Hotch, so please bear with me) Haven't proof read yet. I don't know if I really like how it ended up tbh, but maybe it's just because I was really tired while writing it..?

You keep your gaze on the pages of the book, despite the words keep blurring together and after having read the same paragraph four times over, without even having registered what you have read. You’ve given up on actually getting any reading done, but you don’t want anyone talking to you right now and you still have almost four hours left before you land in Idaho. So you keep eyes glued to the book, hoping that the act of pretending to read will deter any unwanted conversation.     

You can feel his eyes on you, not all the time, but you feel how his gaze occasionally lingers on you. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you sense his presence nonetheless.  

Taking in a deep breath you look up from the book to steal a glance in his direction, catching his eye for a brief moment before he looks away. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, a hint of longing that mirrors your own. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by the stoic mask he wears so well as he continues his conversation with Derek. 

The last two weeks have been painful, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions since Aaron had ended your relationship, before it even had a chance to really begin. It’s been three years since you joined the BAU and from the very beginning you had felt drawn to Aaron Hotchner in a way that defied logic and reason, like there was a connection between you that transcended the professional boundaries of boss and subordinate. 

A silly crush is what it had started as, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized that what you felt was far more than just that. It was a deep, undeniable attraction, a connection that went beyond the surface level. And as time passed, that initial spark grew into something more profound, something that stirred your soul and filled your heart with warmth. 

Sometimes you had let yourself hope that he felt the same way, that the moments of shared glances and unspoken words between you held a deeper meaning, but you had never dared act on it, or let yourself get your hopes up too high. The reality of Aaron’s position as your boss and the boundaries it imposed had always stood as a barrier. The unspoken rules of professionalism, the fear of risking his or your career and the harmony of the team had kept your feelings hidden, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. 

It was three months ago that things had changed between you. It had been a moment of vulnerability, a shared confession during a late-night conversation with the raw emotions of the aftermath of an exceptionally harrowing case that had laid bare the depths of your emotions, and the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had reached a point of no return. 

He had kissed you that night and it was sweet and tender, yet charged with unspoken desire and desperation. It was a moment of surrender, a brief glimpse into a world where the barriers between you could be broken down and the feelings you had both been suppressing could be allowed to flourish. 

The next couple months had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered confessions, each one deepening the bond between you in ways that words could never fully capture. There were secret meetings in secluded corners of the BAU office, stolen kisses in the quiet of the night, and shared glances that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a shadow began to loom over your newfound connection. Aaron had started to act distant and reserved, his once warm and affectionate demeanor now replaced by a noticeable aloofness. And two weeks ago on a night where the both of you had stayed late to finish some reports he had told you that it all had been a mistake, and that the two of you should maintain a strictly professional relationship moving forward. 

His words had cut through the air with a sharp finality and landed like a heavy blow, shattering the fragile hope that had still lingered within you. Aaron’s eyes had been averted, unable to meet your gaze as he spoke the words that shattered your heart.

You steal another glance at Aaron, watching as he maintains his composure in conversation with Derek, his mask of professionalism firmly in place. 

You turn back to your book, the words still a jumbled mess on the page. You can’t pretend to read anymore, not when your heart is heavy with memories and unspoken words. With a sigh, you close the book, making Emily, who is seated across the aisle, glance up from the case file she is reading with a questioning look. 

You offer her a faint smile, attempting to convey a sense of normalcy despite the turmoil swirling within you. 

“You okay?” she asks as she sets aside the case file. You appreciate her gesture, knowing that Emily’s intuition often went beyond words.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you. With a small nod, you offer Emily a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind,” you reply softly, the words carrying a weight that belie their simplicity.

Emily nods in understanding, her gaze holding a sense of sympathy. “He’s an idiot, by the way,” she says with a wry smile, and you feel how your heart stops for a second, panicking at the thought of Emily uncovering the truth of what has unfolded between you and Aaron. 

“What do you mean?” you stammer, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Emily’s response.

Emily just smiles at you as she picks up her file again. “We’re profilers, it’s not hard to read between the lines,” Emily says with a knowing glint in her eyes, her smile reassuring and understanding. “And you’re not as hard to read as you think, it’s clear that you have been dating someone, you have been looking like a smitten kitten for months, it’s been really cute to see, by the way, but something has changed recently. You’ve been distant, and often lost in thought sulking,” Emily continues, her tone gentle yet perceptive. 

It’s not like it really surprises you, given how perceptive Emily is, and how deeply you’ve been feeling the shifts in your relationship with Aaron, but you had still hoped that you could have hidden your feelings from colleagues. 

“So, yeah, whoever he is that has you feeling like this is an idiot, you’re clearly a catch,” Emily says with a reassuring smile, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding.

You feel relief wash over you, though Emily has sensed that you’ve been heartbroken, she hasn’t figured out that it is our boss that has been the course of it. 

“Thanks, Em,” you say, offering the dark haired woman a tired but grateful smile.

Emily returns your smile. “If you ever need to talk or just... not talk, I’m here,” she offers, her voice warm and reassuring.

“I appreciate that,” you say, and you do really mean it, but you know that you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. “But I think I’ll try to take a nap first, hopefully clear my head a bit before we land.” 

“Mm, sounds like a plan,”Emily responds with a soft chuckle. 

Grabbing the blanket from the empty seat next to you, you lean back in your seat, engulfing your body in the soft, fluffy material. 

Before closing your eyes you cast one last glance at Aaron, his profile etched against the soft glow of the cabin lights. The memories of stolen moments with stolen kisses floods your mind, mingling with the ache of his recent rejection. You feel a pang in your heart, a mix of longing and sorrow, as you turn away, curling up in your seat, closing your eyes to the world outside.

You pull the blanket closer around you, the soft warmth of the blanket envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and security, providing a shield against the turmoil of your heart. The gentle hum of the airplane engines lulls you into a state of relaxation, the rhythmic sound serving as a soothing backdrop to your thoughts and emotions. 

As you feel yourself drifting further into the realm of sleep, your senses start to weaken, the sounds of the airplane cabin fading into a distant murmur and you barely register the tears gently sliding down your cheeks before you drift off. 

· · · · · 

You’re softly pulled out of sleep by the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. As you slowly flutter your eyes open, the soft glow of the cabin lights illuminates the figure beside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re about to land,” Derek’s voice is warm and filled with a hint of amusement as he gently rouses you from your slumber.

You blink a few times, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your mind as you adjust to the reality of the present moment. With a small smile, you offer Derek a nod of gratitude. Slowly, you sit up in your seat, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you get ready for touchdown. 

As the plane begins its descent, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - longing, sorrow, and a hint of resignation. The turbulence of your heart echoes the turbulence in the jet cabin as you start dissenting onto a lower altitude.     

As the cabin lights dim in preparation for landing, you look up to find Aaron’s eyes looking in your direction, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he looks away, a shadow covering his features in the soft glow. This would all be so much easier if he would stop looking at you all the time.    

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as the plane continues its descent. The mix of longing and sorrow in your heart feels almost suffocating, but you push it aside. You have to focus, have to keep your head clear for the sake of the case, you are a professional and you are not going to let your emotions cloud your mind. As the wheels touch the runway with a slight jolt, signaling your arrival in Idaho, you

And as the team disembarks from the plane and makes their way to the awaiting SUVs, you feel a sense of resolve settling within you, happy to no longer be confined to the limited room of the jet cabin and as you step out into the crisp evening air, you release a sigh of relief. 

You watch Aaron walk ahead of you, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he walks to one of the cars and you beeline for the other. You keep your gaze fixed outside the window for most of the car ride, watching the landscape pass by in a blur as the car speeds towards its destination, a little sleepy town about an hour away. 

As you and the team arrive at the local police station, you can feel the tension between you and Aaron simmering just beneath the surface. The case at hand requires your full attention, and you push aside the turbulent thoughts and emotions that threaten to consume you as you focus on the task at hand.

Throughout the evening and early night, you work alongside the team, profiling the unsub and piecing together clues to hopefully catch the unsub before they strike again. The familiarity of the work, the rhythm of profiling and investigating grounding you in the present moment, making you go into a state of laser focused professionalism. You find a sense of purpose in the work you do, a reminder that you are more than the turmoil of your emotions.

But as the night wears on, the team regroups at the hotel to get a few hours of sleep before continuing the investigation in the morning. You find yourself standing outside the small hotel, looking up at the dark, star lit sky and as you turn to head inside and join the rest of the team, you feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as you see Aaron standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his usual stoic expression faltered, his brown eyes softening as they meet yours.   

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing in the quiet night, and suddenly, you know that the decision you have made to the hard choice you’ve struggled with for the past two weeks is the right one. 

 Without saying a word, you walk towards him, a mix of uncertainty and determination coursing through you. As you come to a stop in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him. “Not here,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you gently take his hand, leading him towards a secluded corner of the hotel grounds. 

As you come to a stop, you turn to face him, the dim light of the night casting shadows across his face. With a heavy sigh, you search his eyes for any sign of the man you once knew, the man who had kissed you with such tenderness and held you with such care, for the man you think might’ve even loved you. You had loved him, had long before he kissed you, and you still love.

 “Aaron, I…” you begin, trailing off as you feel all the words in your head leave you as you look into his eyes, remembering that night he had kissed you for the first time. It had been a late night just like this one, it had been the first time you had ever called him by his first name. 

“Let’s sit,” he says, his voice gentle yet strained, as he guides you to a nearby bench. You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for leading you on, for... for everything.” His words are filled with regret, and you can see the pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrors your own. 

He reaches out his hand, hesitating before resting it on yours. His touch is soft and hesitant but filled with unspoken longing and you feel how your heart skips a beat, how you have missed the feeling of him touching you, even if it’s just the slightest of touches. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper. 

‘But it did hurt, it hurt so, so much’, is what you want to say. But as you look into Aaron’s eyes, filled with regret and vulnerability, you find yourself unable to form the words, the intensity in the warm, chocolate brown depths of his gaze rendering you speechless. You see the conflict within him, the turmoil of emotions swirling beneath the surface, and you feel the need to avert your gaze.  

You look down at his hand on yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine in the balm night air. For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the familiar sensation, the connection that still linger between you despite the circumstances.

Aaron’s hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent plea for understanding. “You deserve so much better than that,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

You take a deep breath, the words forming in your mind before you speak them out loud. “Maybe I don’t want you to decide for me what I do and don’t deserve,” you say, looking up at him again, your voice steady despite the feelings swirling within you. Aaron’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mix of emotions crossing his features.

Now it’s his turn to be lost for words, which for some reason seems to give you a bit more courage. You fill your lungs with another deep breath before opening your mouth.  

“I’m quitting,” you declare, your voice firm and resolute. You’ve been struggling with making the decision, but as you look at Aaron now, face lit up by the soft moon light you know that it is the only decision for you, you are never gonna be able to let him go if you keep working for the BAU. “I’m turning in my resignation letter when we get back from this case.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, his grip on your hand tightening even more as he processes your words. The weight of your statement hangs heavy in the air between you, the unspoken implications of what this means for both of you settling in. You can see how a myriad of emotions flicker across his face – surprise, concern, and perhaps a glimmer of something else that you can’t quite place.

“You can’t do that,” Aaron’s voice is firm but filled with a mix of concern and resignation, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt

You can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at his words, it’s not like you had expected him to be happy about your decision, but a little, and probably naive, part of you had hoped that he would acknowledge that it would be the solution to how the two of you could be together, hoped that he still wanted that. But you’re not leaving the BAU for the slim chance that you can be with Aaron. You’re quitting because it’s become clear to you that it is the only solution. If the only time you can push aside the pain of being around him is when you’re actively investigating  a violent crime case, you have to let him go, and you can only do that by leaving the BAU. 

“Yes, I can… I have to, I think,” you say firmly, yet you feel your heart breaking a little by the thought of leaving. “I need to do this for myself. For my own well-being,” you continue, your gaze unwavering as you look into his eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.” 

Aaron remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. Finally, he sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he admits, his voice heavy with regret.

“I know,” you reply softly, a tinge of sorrow coloring your words. “But we both knew the risks when we started this.”

“I should never have put you in this position,” Aaron says, his gaze dropping to the ground as he speaks. “I should never have kissed you that night. Ilet my own feelings cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. I’m your boss, and I took advantage, and I-I hurt you, and…” 

“No, look at me, please.” You reach out and gently cub his cheek in your hand, making him meet your gaze. “Aaron, it wasn’t just you. I wanted it too, I wanted to be with you,” you confess, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I wanted to take the risk because I thought it was worth it. And maybe it was, for a while. But we can’t keep going like this, Aaron. It’s not fair to either of us.” 

Aaron’s eyes search yours, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths. “What are you saying?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation. 

“I’m saying that I need to let you go,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to let go of this hope that maybe someday we could find a way to be together. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s only causing us both pain.” Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you speak, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. But despite the pain, you feel a sense of clarity wash over you, a sense of liberation in finally speaking the truth. 

Aaron’s eyes soften, his hand coming up to gently grasp yours that’s still cupping his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. You offer him a sad smile, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away. 

“Me too, Aaron,” you say softly, your voice filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. As you stand up from the bench, you turn to walk away, the weight of your decision settling in your heart. But before you can take a step, you feel a hand grasp yours, stopping you in your tracks. You turn back to see Aaron standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of something you can’t quite place. 

“I...I can’t let you leave without saying this,” Aaron begins, his voice wavering slightly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and in the process, I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let you go without telling you that I love you. ” 

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the depth of his confession washing over you like a wave. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for the two of you. “But what does that mean, Aaron?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What are you saying?” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to live with the regret of letting you slip away. I want to fight for a future where you are a part of my life. I know it won’t be easy, I know there are risks and complications, but I can’t let you go without at least trying cause I love you.” 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into Aaron’s eyes, the sincerity and love shining within them filling your heart with warmth and longing. Taking a step closer to Aaron, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with determination. 

“I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” 

Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. Without another word, he closes the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss filled with passion and longing. The world falls away as you melt into each other, lost in the moment of shared love and desire as the man you love kisses you under the moonlight.

The kiss deepens, becoming a promise of the future you both want to fight for, a pledge to overcome the obstacles that stand in your way, a balm for the weeks of heartbreak. And as you break apart, breathless and filled with emotion, you feel how your entire body shivers, already missing the feeling of Aaron’s warm lips against yours. 

“You’re freezing,” Aaron frowns, quickly shredding himself of his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Let’s get you inside.”

You nod, your heart swelling with hope and love as he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the hotel. Hotel might be a little generous; it’s more of a bed and breakfast, with so few rooms that the team had to pair up and share, but it was the only accommodation in town and it is not like you and the team aren’t used to having to share rooms from time to time. 

It turns out the rest of the team has already paired up and hit the hay, leaving only one room since you’re the last two to arrive. “Looks like you and I’ll have to share a room,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, an hour ago you would be horrified by it, but now you’re absolutely thrilled about it.  

“Yeah, looks like it,” he says with a soft smile on his face as you get your keys before taking your hand in his again and leading you to your shared room.  

As you step inside, the warmth of the room envelops you, melding with the warmth of Aaron’s touch as he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more in a sweet, tender embrace. In the dim light of the hotel room, with the moon casting a soft glow through the curtains, the emotions swirling within you are no longer suffocating, but freeing, as you surrender to the love that has bound the two of you together.

As you finally break apart and look around it turns out that the room is a twin room, with two beds divided by a bedside table. It makes sense that your coworkers didn’t leave you to share a room with a shared bed. 

You share a knowing look with him before the both of you start to quickly get ready for bed, it’s late and you’re both exhausted and there is only a few hours till you’ll need to get up again. 

You share one last kiss before moving to your respective beds, but as you lay there, the distance between you feels unbearable. The man you have been pining over for three years has just a little while ago told you that he loves you after weeks of heartbreak and he lies so close yet you can’t even touch him? That’s ridiculous! 

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice filled with longing as you look at Aaron.

“I know,” he replies, his voice just as filled with yearning as he pulls his covers to the side letting you slip into the bed with him. 

You settle into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you feel as if you’re finally coming home. The walls that had been built between you are crumbling down, allowing you to embrace the love that has always been between you.

As you snuggle closer to Aaron, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The turmoil of the past weeks fades away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Aaron whispers, his breath warm against your ear, and you know that he means it. And you know that you never want to let him go either. 

With a smile on your face, and your heart full of love and hope, you drift off to sleep in the arms of the man you love, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together.

[deaconusdelirium]

ᰔᩚ Older bf!Simon indulging his kid at heart

-

Simon never really minded the fact that his childhood was stripped from him, it happened, it’s over, what can he do about it? Nothing. Best move on to more important things. He thinks about it, but it no longer effects him. He’s human, so at some point he’s going to watch a kid play to their hearts content like it was a foreign thing to him

Simon who raises a brow at every little thing you do when he finally starts to love you. Watching you stare at the toy section a little too long before picking out a coloring book and even longer at the crayon section. The basket in the crook of his elbow as he crossed his arms.

“What’s the difference, luvie? They all color the same” he huffed quietly, earning a soft glare in return. “Oh hush, they’re not the same. See? These ones are pastels, these ones have glitter, this one has forty colors-” you go on as he rolls his eyes and stares off down the aisle. His attention immediately being brought back as you all of a sudden stop. Then he seen what you were eyeing. The colored pencils. He looked at them and then at you before sighing and walking over. Grabbing them and show them to you. “What’s the deal with this one?” He asks, trying to find the difference yet again between the crayons and then pencils. You step forward and then smile almost sadly. “I’ve never really had colored pencils, always seen them but my parents told me they’d go in the trash one way or another” you replied. He didn’t even think twice before putting them in the basket

Simon who watches you later on that night color in the first page that stands out to you. Seeing you color outside the lines but never really seeming to mind. “Inside the lines, darlin” he mumbled as he laid in bed. One arm propping him up as you laughed softly, “oh hush, leave me alone. I like it” you smiled, “you like it messy?” He asked, “well… when you put it that way it sounds sloppy. But everyone always got mad that I colored outside the lines. Found being too perfect was always boring and never really fun. But I like this” you leaned back, looking at the paper as he nodded. Picking up a pencil and then gave a small scribble to the paper.

Simon who finds comfort in walking beside you down a sidewalk. At first he was confused, one second you both were walking and the next he was yanked back, “what’s wrong?” He looked around for any sign of trouble, then looked down at you, realizing you were counting your steps in the large rectangles in the concrete. “I stepped four steps in the last block, if I take another step, this one will be five” you muttered. Deciding not to question it, he picked you up, setting you in the next block and started walking along side you again. Now every time you walk together, he counts how many steps you take in each one, stopping and waiting for you if you need to jump a little or if you mess up your numbers, “you’re at three, luv”

Simon who pretty much never questions anything you do anymore, you want something? He’ll get it for you. Even if it’s a little bottle of bubbles, he’ll grab an extra bottle just so that if you ever run out, you’ll have another. He won’t admit it, but likes seeing which bubble will last the longest before popping

Simon who goes shopping with you and helps you pick out a stuffed animal, which turns into stuffed animals. “Oh- look at this one Si, this one’s a seal” you picked up a chunky looking stuffed animal. Giving a squish before holding it out to Simon, who gives a squish and then takes it into his large calloused hands. Scrunching it a few times and lays his head on it, then nods. Looking at the others, “look at this one, babe, it’s a shrimp” he chuckles, picking it up and showing you. A smile blossoming on your face as you grab it. You both going home with stuffed animals of your own, who later get turned into cuddle buddies. Sedrick the Shrimp and Samuel the Seal

Simon who will bring you your favorite lunch with a nice drink on the side to your work. Walking in pass the reception desk and into your office, seeing that you’re on a call, he holds your food so he can personally give it to you as he walks around the place. Mindlessly playing with a few little trinkets you got lying around. He puts the bag of food between his chest and arm, the drink in his hand while his other squeezes the chicken stress ball. Giving a small chuckle as its eyes pop out with every squeeze. Then he finds another little toy. A crane of sort that has a string attached to the tip that’s holding a ring at the end. A small hook on the beam as he tries to get the ring onto the hook. Giving a quiet “yes” as he finally gets it. Then hands your food over with a kiss when you’re done

Simon who stays up with you one night, not having to worry about waking up early for work. So he has you get up, telling you he’s hungry and that he wants to get something to eat. Then when you tell him you have to get ready. He protests, pulling your hand and tells you that he’s not going out to impress anyone and that he’d rather you be comfortable than walking around fully dressed with your clothes you wanted to wear tomorrow, just to get fast food. Tells you that he feels better when you feel good. Both of you don’t have to worry about the burdens of adult life that early morning

Simon who goes to the Lego section with you- well, more like he drags you to the Lego aisle. Telling you that he likes this one he seen a few days ago. Pretends to look for it when he made it up as an excuse so you two could actually look for something to build together. “Look at this one love, it’s a picture frame” he holds up a box, showing you. “I like that one, but I also like this camera one” you also hold up the box, he looks between the two. Eyes darting to the side before something catches his eye. “Baby, look. These are bracelets, you put little legos on them”. He immediately grabs the box, dropping them all into the cart, not even minding the price it’ll come out to. “We should look at the friendship bracelets” he buys you the bracelets anyways, going home and building the legos together, putting a Polaroid of you two beneath the camera one. Putting a picture in the picture frame one, and you both wearing the lego bracelets

Simon who picks out baby clothes, not boring bland pink or blue ones. No, those are too cliche, no, he wants something that will make those beautiful eyes he knows your little baby have, pop out. Even if he has to special order a few clothes and blankets, he’ll do it. Little onesies that have pictures of Sedrick and Samuel that were obviously custom made by the best and most liked shop.

Simon who signs your little one up for whatever their heart desires. They want to try soccer? He’s going to buy them a small goal and a ball so they can practice in the backyard of your home. They see an event coming into town and they want to go? He’s more than willing to take them. They want money for a book fair? He knows the teachers are assholes so he waits until they get home so he can go back with them. Helping them pick out whatever their little heart wants. Erasers, book marks, little toys, it’s all theirs. They want extra cuddles for the heck of it? He’s bringing you down with the two of them.

Simon who ends up healing his childhood through you and his kid. Even if he was a little embarrassed about it all in the beginning, he realized that he’d rather make memories than skip them being shy and hurting you and your kids’ feelings.

(He totally has his own stash of toys and his own coloring books he’s accumulated over the years he’s known you. He even has his own blankets with hero’s and stuffed animals of his own) ᰔᩚ

-

not really proof read, but you get the idea. Just had this in my head for a bit

[ariestrxsh]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, some fluff, some angst, mommy kink, edging, handjob, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: here are parts one, two, and three to me & u. 💖 thanks for being patient with me while i took so long to get this out, and there will be a part five to this story in the near future.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: while spending time with matt, you start to find out more about his past, which leads to your first disagreement with one another.

me & u part four

"What if I came and cleaned it up for you with my mouth?" You said in a sultry tone through the phone. You smirked at Matt through the window after you watched him finish using his new sex toy, but he'd already grabbed an old t-shirt and was wiping up the mess he made.

"I'll tell you what. You can clean up the next one," he said in a breathy voice on the other end of the line. "I'd be honored," you replied, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension you were feeling.

"I'd love it if you came over, though. My dad's gone," Matt bit his lip. "What are we gonna do?" You asked him. "Anything you want," he responded. "Anything?" You wondered in a flirtatious tone. "Within reason," Matt chuckled at how dirty-minded you were.

"I'll be over soon," you replied, hanging up the phone and hurrying over to the neighbor boy's house. You let yourself in through Matt's front door, taking in all of the changes that had taken place since you'd last been over.

There were actually kitchen appliances on the counters and portraits on the wall of Matt in his younger years. You smiled, running your fingers along the frames and the glass before making your way up the staircase.

You turned the door knob to Matt's room, and as you swung open the door, he was pulling his zipper closed and still trying to catch his breath. He looked up at you and smiled. "So, what do you think of your new fleshlight?" You teased Matt.

"I think you know what I think," Matt playfully rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you leaned up against his door frame and looked him up and down. "Like is an understatement," he said, taking his toy to his bathroom to rinse it out. "Your house is coming together nicely," you called to him from his bedroom as your eyes glossed over the new additions to his space.

"Thanks. My dad and I had a lot of time to unpack today," Matt called back to you. You sifted through a few vinyls Matt had stored on a shelf beneath his record player. "I didn't know you were a music fan," you told him. "I mean, who doesn't love music?" Matt asked, coming back into the room and studying the way you ran your dainty fingers across his music collection.

"Yeah, but you listen to really good music," you replied, taking a Led Zeppelin album off of the shelf and slipping the record into the player. Traveling Riverside Blues came through clearly on the speaker. "What can I say? I have my dad's taste," he shrugged. You picked up Matt's journal off his desk and started flitting through the pages.

"May I?" You asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, I just came on the phone with you. I don't see why you can't read my journal," Matt chuckled and reached around to rub the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

There was nothing written for the day the two of you had met, but there was an entry written for the day after. "I met my new neighbor yesterday. She's kind of a slut," your jaw dropped as you read the words on the page and peered up to look at Matt.

"Look, I know that wasn't the nicest way to put it," Matt said, walking towards you, prepared to de-escalate your anger. "Don't worry. It turns me on to be called that," your shocked expression turned to a smirk, and you continued reading the next sentence.

"She's really hot, and she seems to know what she wants. I like that about her. She's nothing like May. Who's May?" You wondered, glancing up from the leather book again. "My ex-girlfriend," Matt timidly told you.

"I didn't know you had dated anyone before," you relayed in a surprised tone. "We dated for about three years, but she's the only girlfriend I've ever had," Matt admitted to you. "Three years? Why'd you guys break up?" You wondered aloud.

There was a moment of silence before Matt answered you. "We ended things because I moved away," Matt said with a somber tone in his voice. Your stomach dropped. "So you guys broke up recently," you replied, fiddling with the leather cover. "Yeah, fairly recently," Matt said.

"So, you're not over her yet? I mean, it would be crazy if you were. It was a three-year long relationship that ended recently," You insinuated, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes.

"I mean, I don't even know what it means to get over someone. I've never had to do it before," Matt said defensively. "Why didn't you tell me about her?" You narrowed your gaze at him.

"It didn't come up, and I was waiting until the right time to tell you," he answered you. "Do you still love her?" You wondered with a hurt look on your face, and Matt stood silently, staring at you for a moment.

You shut off the record player. "It's a simple question, Matthew. Are you still in love with her?" You interrogated him with a bit of anger in your tone now, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We ended things a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to say no?" Matt asked, raising the volume of voice. "Do you guys still talk?" You wondered, taking a step closer to him.

"She texted me last night and asked me how I liked my new house. I was too high to answer her, but I texted her back this morning," Matt hesitantly admitted, shrugging his shoulder and sticking his hands in his pockets.

You didn't want Matt to see you cry, so you spun around without saying another word, bounded down the stairs, and ran out the front door. You headed for your backyard to be alone and collect your thoughts, climbing up the ladder to your treehouse as hot tears started falling from your eyes.

You knew that Matt and May weren't together anymore, but it was the fact that he still had leftover feelings for a girl he'd probably still be dating if he lived in the same state as her. Not only was he still in love with another girl, but a girl that, in his words, was very different from you.

On top of it all, you had always struggled with jealousy in relationships. Your mind raced through the worst-case scenarios. What would happen if Matt went back to visit May, or what if she traveled here to visit him? You wondered if it would change the way he felt about you.

You were wiping your tears with the back of your hand and sniffling when Matt poked his head up from under the treehouse as he followed you up the ladder. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he timidly said, looking at you with his big, blue eyes. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

You wanted to shout at him and tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to say anything to hurt him to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to hide behind your tough facade, secretly afraid to be vulnerable with him, but you couldn't look at him and imagine being mean to him or raising your voice at him.

"I don't want you to be in love with May," you blurted out as you started to sob again. Matt climbed into the shelter with you, his journal in hand, placing it in his lap as he sat beside you, wiping away your tears.

"It's just still fresh. That's all. It was three years, and the reason we broke up was beyond our control, but it doesn't make sense for us to be together, and now that I've met you.." Matt trailed off, rubbing your back.

"Since you met me, what?" You asked softly, lifting your head. "Well, you didn't even finish the journal entry, silly." Matt handed you his leather notebook, and despite your hesitancy to read on and hurt your own feelings worse, you opened it back up to the page you left off on.

"She's nothing like May. The more time I spend around her, the more I realize things I didn't really like about May and my relationship with her. Like how passive she was, how she always kept me guessing about how she felt about me, and the way she never disagreed with anything I said or challenged any of my beliefs," you read aloud.

"Wait, you actually like that I'm disagreeable and direct?" You asked, peering up at him, surprised because those were usually the qualities people criticized you for. "Yeah, those are my favorite things about you. It's refreshing to meet someone like you," Matt told you, looking into your eyes.

"I'm sorry I stormed off," you apologized. "I'm not upset," Matt assured you. "I just wasn't sure whether I was supposed to follow you or not."

You two sat silently for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes, and the magnetic force between you and Matt pulled you each closer to one another until your lips were locked. The chemistry between you both when you'd kiss was undeniable, and you could each confirm that you felt it through your body language in the way your hands would wander, never being able to pull each other close enough.

"Do you wanna get high and go lay on your floor and Iisten to your records?" You asked him, looking into his blue eyes and caressing his face once you pulled back from the kiss. "Sure, but I'm only taking one hit," Matt looked at you, wide-eyed and smiling.

"That's really all you need," you smiled back at him, reaching for your stash and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of a plastic bag. You lit it up, exhaling smoke and watching it dissipate into the air.

"Do you wanna shotgun kiss again?" You asked Matt. "Shotgun kiss?" He reiterated in a confused tone. "Yeah, it's where I take a hit, and then we kiss, and I blow it into your mouth," you smirked at him. He nodded at you, leaning in as you took a drag, the cherry end of the joint glowing and crackling as you gently pulled from it.

Your lips softly brushed up against Matt's, blowing out the weed smoke as he breathed in and gave him a couple of pecks before pulling away. He exhaled, expelling the wispy, grey smoke from his lungs. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Matt laughed in between coughs.

You took a few more hits while you silently stared at the cute boy beside you. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy and the whites of his eyes turned a bit red. "Let's go check out your record collection," you suggested to Matt, nudging him in the arm and putting out the joint.

The two of you descended the ladder as the sun sank lower below the horizon, leaving behind a bright orange sky in its wake. You followed Matt's silhouette out your gate and back over the path that led to his house.

You found yourself lying on Matt's giant rug in the middle of his room while he laid his head next to yours but had his feet pointed in the opposite direction. You both stared up at the ceiling as Riders on the Storm by The Doors came through over the speaker of the record player, sounding textured and crisp.

"Can I stay the night here?" You asked Matt, peering over at him and his glazed over expression. "I don't see why not," Matt shrugged, looking at you wide-eyed. He did want you to stay the night, but he was afraid that you had certain sexual expectations about how the night would go.

"I'm not ready to have sex with you yet," Matt blurted out, searching your expression for a reaction and wondering if he was being too presumptuous by saying that. "That's okay. I understand. Could we maybe do other stuff?" You nibbled on your lip, looking at him hungrily. "I think I'd be okay with that," Matt nervously replied, nodding at you timidly.

The two of you enjoyed your highs a bit longer as The Doors' L.A. Woman album played through its track list until you were both too tired to keep your eyes open. Matt switched off the light, and you, the record player.

The two of you climbed into Matt's bed, stripping down into your underwear, nestling under the covers, and cuddling. Matt couldn't help but to get hard with your half-naked body curled up so closely to his with your nose nuzzled into his neck.

You guys heard Matt's dad pull up in his loud, rust-colored pickup truck, casting shadows across the bedroom as the headlights danced through the window. It's not that Matt wasn't allowed to have girls sleep over, but he certainly didn't think his father would approve of it, so the two of you silently decided to keep your staying the night a secret.

A couple hours later, you woke up to some movement in the bed. You figured Matt must have been tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. You listened a little more closely, and you heard soft noises and labored breathing coming from him.

It wasn't long after Matt's dad came in through the door that he trudged up the stairs and made his way into his bathroom, turning on the shower and getting ready for bed. You and Matt laid in the dark, the only bit of light pouring into the room from a nearby street lamp, and you fell asleep shortly after in each other's arms.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you caught a glimpse of desire on his face while he grinded against his pillow, desperate for relief. You watched quietly for a few minutes as he rutted into his blankets and listened as your name faintly fell from his lips. You smirked at how needy he was being.

"Need some help?" Your voice broke through his breathy whimpers. "What?" He asked, immediately stopping and acting like he'd just woken up. "Help me with what? I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, you naughty boy. Are you lying to me right now?" You moved closer to him, speaking in a low whisper while you tenderly grabbed him by his jaw. "Wanna try that again, hmm? You gonna tell me you weren't just humping your pillow?" You asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry, mommy. It's so hard. It hurts," he whined in a bratty tone. You started slowly kissing Matt's neck, and you felt his body tighten against you. "I'm gonna make it feel all better," you moaned against his ear.

"My dad's asleep in the next room," Matt said quietly before letting out a stifled moan. "Makes it more hot that way, doesn't it? When it's a secret? When you have to keep your volume low? When it's risky and you could be caught if you're too loud?" You cooed, gently brushing your fingers over the fabric of his underwear, exciting him even further.

"Mmm. I dont know," he softly purred as you caressed his member. "I'll stop if you want me to. You know, so your dad doesn't hear us," you teased, whispering into his ear and delicately touching your lips to his ear lobe before kissing it. "No. Please. Keep going," he moaned quietly.

You slipped your hand into the waistband of his boxers and started running your fingers along his length while your lips moved back down to his neck. You could feel each of his veins as you lightly grazed him, testing how much teasing he could take.

He kept anticipating you wrapping your fingers around his thickness and sighing every time you didn't. "Why are you teasing so much?" He softly whimpered. You gave him a gentle squeeze, quietly chuckling at his neediness.

Finally, with his cock in your grip, you started to move your hand up and down, stroking his length while soft, delicate whimpers poured from his lips. "How do you like that, baby?" You asked in a voice just barely louder than a whisper.

"I love it, mommy. Please don't stop," he begged in a hushed volume. "Good boy," you cooed back as you started to pick up the pace a bit. "You can't finish until I tell you to," you added at the end.

He let out a long sigh. "But mommy. I'm already so close," he quietly cried. "Then you'd better get ahold of yourself," you responded in a sultry moan. He nodded at you obediently.

You couldn't tell how big he was because it was dark in the room, and you were jerking him off under his blanket, but it felt bigger than average. You noted that your fingers struggled to wrap around his girth, and your strokes felt long as you pumped his length back and forth. You couldn't wait until the day you'd get to see it.

You felt a wet warmth between your legs as you listened to the boy whimper beneath you while you continued sucking on his neck. "Mommy, please," he whispered. "Please, what?" You softly cooed against his hot skin.

"Please let me cum," he said in a strangled moan. "Not yet, baby." You smirked as you brushed your thumb over the tip, spreading around his pre-cum and eliciting more clear liquid from his sensitive slit.

"Mommy," he desperately whined, struggling to keep his volume down. "Sh, sh, sh," you whispered back into his ear while you stroked him mercilessly, admiring his facial expression that was saturated with pleasure in the dim, cool light offered by the street lamp.

His eyebrows were brought together, causing a little wrinkle between them, and his eyes were tightly closed. He caught his lip between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his pleasured sounds, which he did poorly.

You slowed down, taunting him some more. "No more teasing," Matt said in a breathy voice. "Oh. Please, mommy. Mmm. Need to - oh - need to cum so bad," Matt managed to get out in a series of broken moans and stifled whimpers.

You sped the pace back up for him, covering every inch of his cock, sending ripples of satisfaction through his body. "Please," he said once more. "Wait," you told him in a quiet, stern voice. He nodded at you with a submissive expression on his face.

You slowed down again, drawing out the process, really making him beg for it. He huffed in response. "If you wanna get an attitude with me, I'll stop and leave you unfinished," you replied, slowing the pace of your strokes.

"Mommy, please. I'm sorry. I won't get an attitude," he weakly answered, gripping your wrist to keep you from removing your hand from his dick. "Then be a good boy for mommy, okay?" You whispered, taking your free hand and tilting Matt's chin so that he was looking at you. He nodded, releasing his grasp on you.

You pumped back and forth again, fisting his cock while he started writhing under your control. "Good boy. You're doing such a good job," you cooed. Your name passed through his lips a few more times along with a few oohs and aahs.

"Mommy, please," Matt sobbed. You ignored his pleas, continuing your strokes, paying special attention to the head every time you brushed against it.

You felt him twitch against your palm, his dick begging for sweet release. Matt was so close to the edge, graciously trying to hold out just for you, but he wasn't used to waiting to cum or asking for permission to finish, but he was discovering how much he liked it.

He was so grateful when these next words left your mouth because he didn't know how much more he could take.

"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for mommy?" You whispered into his ear before you went back to kissing his neck. "Yes, mommy," he pathetically whined. He'd been waiting.

You saw the muscles in his face tighten in the dim light as his cock pulsated in your hand, blowing his load into your palm. His orgasm lasted several seconds due to how much you'd edged him, and he emitted a few guttural groans before a smile overcame his expression.

"Good boy," you whispered once more, kissing his forehead. He looked up at you breathlessly with his big, blue eyes and a satisfied grin on his face.

You got up and wandered into Matt's bathroom to clean the evidence off your hands, and once you got back into Matt's bed, the two of you wrapped yourselves up in each other.

You woke up early on Wednesday to the sound of the birds chirping and the morning sun peeking in through Matt's window as it came up over the hills.

You drifted back off to sleep, your legs intertwined with his and your head buried into his chest while you listened to the sound of his slowing heartbeat as his vitals returned to normal after his climax. Soon, you and Matt were both soundly asleep again.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You let out a big yawn, and you heard the cute boy beside you begin to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and your image became clearer as he adjusted to the change in lighting.

"Good morning, pretty boy," you said in a soft murmur. "Good morning, baby. You're up early," he mumbled back in his sexy morning voice. "I know. I have to work today," you told him, climbing out of bed and putting back on the clothes you'd wandered out of last night.

Matt reached for you with a pouty look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get to see you until after your shift. You leaned in and kissed him. "How do you usually get to work?" Matt wondered out loud.

"I usually just walk. It's only a few blocks," you shrugged. "If you get back in this bed and cuddle with me for ten more minutes, I'll take you to work in the truck," Matt smiled up at you. "Deal," you replied, climbing back into bed and wrapping your arms around Matt for a few minutes longer.

"If you want to go run over to your place and get dressed for work, I'll go start up the truck," Matt offered, grinning at you. "That would be really sweet of you," you softly replied. The two of you left Matt's room, tiptoeing down the stairs and trying to stay as quiet as possible to keep from waking Matt's dad and blowing your little secret.

All your efforts were for naught when you and Matt made your way into the kitchen, realizing Matt's dad was already awake. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading his Bible, and drinking a cup of coffee.

"Oh, good morning. I didn't realize you stayed over last night," his dad said, peering up at you both from the page, his gaze dancing between you and Matt. "Morning, Mr. Sturniolo," you timidly said, avoiding addressing the sleepover.

"Uh, hi Dad," Matt responded, reaching behind his head and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I'm gonna take the truck to go drop my friend off at work really quick," Matt said, picking the keys up off the counter.

"Why don't I come with you guys? So I can learn a little more about your friend here?" Matt's dad asked, getting up from his seat at the table and extending his arm for Matt to hand over the keys.

Matt gulped, knowing that on top of figuring out you had stayed the night, now he was also going to know what you did for work. He reluctantly forked over the keys. "I'll meet you guys at the truck in about a half hour," you said, giving Matt a quick, awkward side hug.

You couldn't get out of the situation quickly enough.

The whole time you were showering, changing into clean clothes, and brushing your hair and your teeth, you were dreading how awkward the drive over was going to be. You resented that this was only your second interaction with Matt's dad, who you really wanted to like you and approve of you.

You were afraid it would go how any other relationship you'd had went. Their parents would either outwardly not like you, judging you based on all the most scandalous things about your personality and not bothering to get to know the other aspects of you better.

Or worse, the parents would pretend to like you to your face and then would badmouth you to your partner in private, telling them how much better they could be doing and how bad of an influence you are.

You braced yourself for it all as you sauntered out the door and headed for the orange truck.

"You ready?" Matt asked as he opened the door for you. You nodded and nestled in between the two men as Matt climbed into the truck behind you.

"So, what do you do for work?" Matt's dad asked you, pulling out of the driveway. "I work in retail. It's this way," you said, trying to avoid giving too much detail about your job and pointing in the direction of the road he needed to take.

"What do your parents do for work?" His dad wondered. "My mom is a flight attendant, and my dad was a pilot, but now he works in air traffic," you responded.

"Ah, so they work in similar fields," Matt's dad nodded. "Yeah, they met at work. Fun fact, I was actually conceived on a plane," you told them both. "Shit. Sorry. That was an overshare," you said, putting your palm over your mouth once you realized you'd just sworn in front of Matt's very Christian dad.

He didn't laugh or find your quirkiness charming. Matt looked at you wide-eyed, knowing your humor wasn't going to land well with his father.

You continued giving him directions to your retail job, which wasn't totally a lie, and he cleared his throat and gave Matt a look when the three of you pulled into the parking lot of a sex shop. Matt stepped out of the truck to let you out.

"Well, this has been fun," you said sarcastically, feeling the thick tension in the air as your feet hit the pavement. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Sturniolo. Matt, I'll call you on my lunch break," you told him, leaning in and giving him a tender peck on the lips.

You could feel how warm and red your face was as you turned around and headed for the front door of your job. Your coworker, Carly was at the register, giving you an inquisitive look and watching the scene play out.

"Did your cute neighbor boy take you to work?" She asked, giving Matt a little subtle wave, and he waved back, giving Carly a shy smile.

"Yeah, and his very Christian father after he caught me sleeping over. Oh, and he didn't know I worked in the adult entertainment industry until about a minute ago," you added, looking at Carly with a deer in headlights look.

"Oh. That sounds like a very awkward morning," she said, trying to contain her laugher. "It's fine. You can laugh. It is comical, really. I just hope he's not in the truck, telling Matt that I'm a harlot and trying to convince him to stop hanging out with me," you expressed to Carly, tears forming in your eyes.

Her face softened, and she took on an expression of pity. "I'm so sorry. Come here. You know, no matter what his dad says about you, I'm sure Matt's still gonna like you," she said, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back while she comforted you. You wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye before it had a chance to fall. "Thank you for saying that."

Meanwhile, in the rusty-colored Dodge Dakota, your worst fears were unfolding. "Matt, what on earth are you thinking? Running around with a girl like that?" He asked angrily as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Dad-" Matt started to say, but the older man cut him off. "She works at a place called Temptations. You don't see anything wrong with that? You think God wants you canoodling with a girl like that," he replied, giving Matt a somber look.

"A girl like that? What does that even mean? There's so much more to her than that," Matt defended you, raising his voice a bit. "Son, just be careful. Girls like that are trouble. I don't know if this is some kind of overcorrection because you're upset about May-" Matt's dad started.

"How dare you bring up May?" Matt glared at his father. "I'm just saying, son. You and May made sense together," his dad replied, shrugging. "Actually, dad. We didn't. May and I stayed together for so long because neither one of us wanted to admit we were incompatible," Matt scoffed. "What?" Matt's dad asked, completely taken aback by his kid's comment.

Matt and May's relationship was picture perfect on the outside. They didn't argue, they didn't complain about one another to their friends and families, and everyone envied what they had. Everyone thought they'd be together forever, including the two of them.

"I know this new girl is completely different from May. She's not a Christian. She's loud and domineering. She's aggressive, and she's overbearing. And she's honest. Maybe even too honest. She always says what's on her mind even if other people aren't going to like it. And I don't love her despite those qualities. I love her because of those qualities," Matt huffed, silencing his dad.

The two men sat quietly beside each other in the truck, mulling over what the other had said. Matt's dad was a lot of things, but unsupportive wasn't one of them.

A few more moments passed before his father finally spoke up. "Fine. Invite her over for dinner. I want to get to know the girl you love."

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[amethystwrytes]

Of Course, Professor

Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.

Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.

Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.

A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 

“Can you stop please?” 

You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 

“...Sorry…” 

You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 

To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 

If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 

You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.

“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 

“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 

There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 

“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 

Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 

You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 

“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 

“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 

“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 

“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 

“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 

“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 

You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 

“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 

“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 

“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.

“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”

You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 

The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 

Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 

Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 

“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 

Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 

“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 

Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 

“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 

“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 

“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 

He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 

“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 

“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 

You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 

“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 

“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 

“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 

“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 

“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 

You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.

“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 

“You just said…”

“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 

You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”

Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 

You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 

“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 

“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?��� 

“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 

“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 

“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 

“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 

“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.

“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 

“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 

“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 

📖 ❤️

You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 

“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 

“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 

“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”

“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 

“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 

“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 

“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 

“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 

He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 

You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…

You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…

You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 

“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 

“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 

“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 

This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 

📖 ❤️

“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 

“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 

Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 

“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 

“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 

“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 

“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 

“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 

“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 

“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 

“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 

“Never something you what?” he presses. 

You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 

“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 

“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 

“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 

“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 

“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 

“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 

“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 

“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 

“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 

“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 

“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 

“Is this your building?” he points. 

“Yes, it is.” 

He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 

He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 

“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 

“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 

You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 

To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 

“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 

“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 

“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 

“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 

“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 

“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 

“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 

“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 

You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 

📖 ❤️

Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.

“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 

“Already?” he looks at you. 

“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 

“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 

Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 

“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 

“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 

Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 

He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 

You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 

“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 

“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 

“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 

“Good, shall we?” 

📖 ❤️

“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 

“No.” 

Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 

“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 

“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 

“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 

“I’ll get those right out.” 

Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 

“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 

“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 

“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 

“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 

You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 

“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 

“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 

“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 

“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 

You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 

You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 

“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 

The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 

📖 ❤️

The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 

His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 

“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 

“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 

He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 

“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 

Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 

“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 

He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 

“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 

He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 

“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 

“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 

“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 

Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 

He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 

“I…why?”

You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 

“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 

You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 

You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 

“God…” 

You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 

“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 

“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 

He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 

📖 ❤️

The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 

“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 

He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 

You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 

“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 

“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 

“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 

“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 

He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 

“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 

You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 

“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  

Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 

“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 

“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 

“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 

“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 

“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 

“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 

You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 

His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 

“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 

“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 

“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 

He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 

He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 

📖 ❤️

You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 

He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 

Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 

“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.

At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,

See you at my place tonight?

The End

Endnote:

I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.

Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.

[rsventhesecondd]

Broken promises,

╰ • → Featuring . Itoshi Rin, and Itoshi Sae ! ╯

sypnosis . whereas— you're blood related with two famous soccer players world wide. In other words, siblings.

warnings . angst, use of vulgar words, slight spoilers

note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.

You sat down on your chair, opening an old cardboard box filled with medals and old trophies.

Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, just soccer trophies, and.. an old photo book.

You flipped through the pages of it, remembering those fond moments of you and your siblings, unbeknownst to yourself that you were smiling as a burst of memories flood in. Although the memories that came with the rest of the pictures are rather a hazy blur, you stumbled upon the last photo of the book as you flipped through the pages.

It was a photo of you three together.

An actual photo that atleast looked presentable.

Well, aside from that really big smile you have and the two of your brothers in a frown— you'd say this is the most presentable one yet. Your smile grows, replaying the clear memory of that moment, one that you promised to yourself you'd never forget.

You were on the 3rd grade, same as Rin, while Sae was on the 5th. It was the junior championships, second phase of the sports festival. You were ecstatic, after all what proud sister wouldn't? You watched as Sae swiftly passing Rin, followed by Sae precisely kicking the ball towards the Goal— finishing the game. 

" Smile for the picture ! " the camera man said. 

Sae is in the middle of his team holding a trophy, with a face that says 'It's only natural to win' , and a bored look. Next to him  was you smiling, proud. And to the other side, he notices Rin, with a noticable frown. He goes in thought for a moment, then handing Rin his trophy while looking away, slightly embarrassed since he wasn't used to showing affection so openly to his brother, or anyone really. And finally, the photo was taken. Rin on the other hand, was still mesmerized by the trophy, it being the first one he's ever held. You notice their small interaction and couldn't help but give a grin. You know that Sae wasn't the type to show such affection, given the tall walls he put up at such young age. Sometimes, you even wonder if he considers you and rin siblings or just, some distant relative that is blood related. But that one small moment was just enough reassurance that what you have put countless thoughts on was fortunately wrong. 

You look at the photo, still fresh. Bowing to never forget this moment.

What went wrong?

"If I win, our dreams over"  Sae states, his feet hovering over the ball. "I.. I don't want to" Rin mutters out, "I don't want to play a game like this."  

"You Ready Rin?" he says, in that same blank tone. "This is a one shot match." 

"Why?.." 

"Rin, in the four years I was away from here..."

" What have you been doing? "

─────────

along with the fond memory of a moment that you vow will never disappear, another comes along, one you'll never forget, the day Sae left.

There you were, watching them as you dropped the small stuff toy Sae has given you for your 12th birthday. You wanted to say something, get in the middle of this, stop this. But somehow, something was stopping you, you wanted go, but at the moment, your instinct told you that this wasn't the right moment. This was their moment.

—

Sae was walking towards the airport, until you come rushing to him– trying to stop him. Not atleast without an actual conversation.

"Sae, please.. don't leave. Don't leave us." You plead, tears running down eyes.

Sae stops, not even turning around. " Maybe you see me as someone special to you." he says, in that same blank tone. "But to me," his breath hitches ever so slightly. It's almost unnoticeable, but you know. "You're just an eyesore of an annoying little sister."

" You don't mean that." you say, letting out a sniffle. "We're siblings. You don't.. mean that." you say, trying to holding back more tears.

"Don't full yourself just by being born as my sister. If you can't play football, you're not worth anything at all." , he says "You're not necessary in my life anymore"

"Get lost, [name]" his final words before leaving.

end of part one

note . yes, some of these happened cannonly . Omf I accidentally deleted this post, so I had to rewrite a bunch of stuff. But hey, atleast I got it done! anyways, I got the translations from netflix, + here's where I got inspo from

this is the request

hi! you guys can call me raven. I don't think rin and sae are the type of siblings to openly fight when they're at the dinner table. I imagine it to beawkward between the two of them ever since Sae left— plus, rin admires his older brother, not that hes gonna say it out loud. thats one of the reasons rin is aiming to be top striker,no? to be alongside his brother.

anyways, YEAH you can be that anon!

[sillywizardman]

HI!!! After finishing Disco Elysium I wanted to read Sacred and Terrible Air, but there were two issues:

1. It’s not officially released in English

2. I don’t like staring at pdfs!

So I did what any sane person would do. That is take three days of my life printing and binding it.

TRANSLATION (“thank you Group Ibex” we all say in unison!):

PROCESS PICS:

I apologize in advance for anyone who has experience in this sort of thing this is so botched.

I have NEVER done anything like this before, I don’t even read books on my own volition, but if the Disco fixation wants me to learn how to sew and bookbind I’ll do that.

Four of the signatures above. There were nine total, eight of them with 8 sheets/32 pages and the last was five sheets I think. Threw the pdf into adobe acrobat and went straight to printing with those settings and the “booklet” option enabled.

Pricked holes through each signature! Used thumbtacks and a piece of foam I scavenged from my room, worked out great. It’s probably also worth mentioning I do not have a bone folder, book press, or any of the other fancy schmancy bookbinding tools. Flattened the pages with a pencil and pressed with D&D books…

SEWING TIME. I have never sewn in my life. My success in this regard can be majorly attributed to Sea Lemon on youtube, particularly this tutorial:

The process from printing to finishing sewing the signatures took ~8 hours. Now we hit our first roadblock, I had no glue for the spine! After going to sleep and waiting what felt like ages (literally 10 hours or so) before I was free to visit a craft store, I tried to find PVA glue because that’s what you’re supposed to use I think?? Yeah. They were out of PVA glue and my impatient ass got mod podge.

‘Tis glued! As you can see I added cardstock to the ends. Joyous day.

Also, you see that sketchbook in the pic? Yeah? You see that lovely cardboard?

It is now the cover. Rest in piss bristol sketchpad backing.

———

EDIT: I see a bunch of people want to attempt this so here’s a video on how to make the hardcover: https://youtu.be/Av_rU-yOPd4?si=7T5zgVJGAfPFBxn-

I didn’t use any measurements or advice from it but it’s a good reference for when it comes to assembling the cover from ~3:50 onwards. The boards are same size as your text block pages and spine, I think I made the cover width a bit longer just in case it doesn’t cover the text block though. Do not do this with the spine, I regret it.

And note, this is NOT a tutorial, it is the process of someone who got a bit too silly and decided to bind a book, obviously do your own research lol. Don’t be afraid to try it though, it’s surprisingly simple!

———

… So, now that’s done! I swore to myself I wouldn’t start reading SATA/PJÕL until I finished this project completely, meaning I’ll be doing that now yippee :]

[celestialprincesse]

Following up from this idea here!

⋆˙⟡♡

The last twelve months had been surprisingly productive for Simon. He'd been reticent at first, pushed back against the barrage of support provided for him by both the military and those who'd remained close to him outside of mere workplace obligation. That said, it hadn't taken him long to realise how big of a change a civilian lifestyle would be after twelve years of active service. Therapy had been an uphill battle, but Tina, the nice lady he saw twice weekly, who specialised in supporting veterans and those suffering with complex PTSD, was as patient as a saint, and had eventually helped him to open up.

He still, however, struggled to find a new sense of purpose. Life had become quiet, sluggish and static. When Tina had suggested he get a pet, he'd tentatively agreed.

"Hi there! How can I help you today?" Is the sweet voice that shakes him from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality only to realise he now stands at the front of the queue, before the desk of his local adoption centre.

"I'm looking to adopt..." He trails off, somewhat awkward and still a little unsure of whether there's some sort of protocol with these things. "A dog. I'm looking to adopt a dog."

After having quietly filled in the required forms, nervous under the warm gaze of the front desk attendant, he allows himself to be shown to the kennels in which the canine residents of the centre play, sleep and eat. With a nervous, almost shy gaze, Simon takes in the rowdy pack of dogs before him, before crouching to meet the crowd of wet noses coming to check him out.

"Have you got any preferences?" You pipe up from behind him, absently scratching behind the ears of a three legged Bernese Mountain dog, Lucky, who stands loyally at your heels.

"Just - um," Simon murmurs, looking between you, the dog at your feet, and a funny looking beagle, intent on sniffing at the contents of his pockets. "Just some company really. Therapist told me I needed a reason to get out, so..."

Taking his silence as an invitation to speak up, a pensive hum fills the room as you flick though the chart listing the animals currently up for adoption, and what their ideal situation would be. "You said you're quite physically active?" You probe, shooting him a glance.

"Yeah. I run and stuff. Like to try and stay fit."

Another hum of confirmation breaks the quiet as you rule out some of the less mobile options, and, having seen the way he grimaced at a slightly dishevelled Chihuahua, you take the incentive to rule out the smaller lap dogs too. You can't help but to note the way he looks between you and your own little canine friend, a look you've seen countless times on the faces of clients, the look that says that they're interested.

"I'd introduce the two of you, but she's already spoken for I'm afraid." You hum, a wry smile pulling at your lips when you note the expression on his face, surprised at your astute observation. "She's not exactly the most mobile, either."

"Oh, yeah. Right." He stammers back awkwardly, shooting you a bashful smile.

"I do, however, have someone that might take your fancy?"

Taking the laminated sheet from your offered hand, Simon is met with a grainy image of an earnest looking dog, big, marble eyes seemingly staring at him from off of the page.

"He only came in a couple days back. Golden shepherd mix from what we can tell. About four and really good natured. He's at the vet right now, but we could book you in to meet him when he's back?"

"I'd - yeah - That'd be great. Thanks." He nods, a pale blush colouring his cheeks.

Better still, when he leaves the adoption centre with a beginners pet care brochure, flipping through the pages on the walk back home, he's met with a hastily scrawled phone number, and a little smiley face below it.

⋆˙⟡♡

[haxkattpress]

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses

"Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order."

This has to be one of the most creative and meticulously researched fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. If you haven't read it yet, don't walk— run! Citrusses is an absolute genius, and kindly gave me permission to bind her masterpiece.

The cover of this bind is made out four different shades of Allure bookcloth cut by my Cameo 4, and the centerpiece is printed and hand foiled. The banners were machine foiled in gold and black with hand foiled rose gold shading. The endbands were hand sewn with Gutermann silk thread.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

The amount of inspiration this fic gave me was overwhelming, and Citrusses' writing fully immersed me in the world of competitive rowing. While designing this bind, I was struck by the sheer wealth of Oxford rowing memorabilia available to me. I settled on this 1929 illustration from an official publication on the Oxford and Cambridge Centenary Boat Race for the cover.

"How hard could it possibly be?" I thought, foolishly. The answer was HARD, but I'll get into that later.

Due to the wealth of design options, I believe that this may be the best typeset I have created to date. Thanks to the help of my friend @tsurashi-bindery, I was able to learn the basics of InDesign (kicking and screaming all the way). There will be spoilers in the text of these photos, so try not to read them if you haven't finished the fic!

For the title page, I modified To See the Crews in Training by Charles Pears (1930). I believe that this was part of a series of advertisements for the race in the London Underground.

For the chapter headers, I redrew the crest from an Oxford Oars, Flags, and Arms postcard, presumably pre 1914. I also had some fun creating a mock email using La_Temperanza's How to Mimic Email Windows on Ao3. Cormac's email makes me laugh every time I read it, and Citrusses provided an appropriately pompous subject.

I also had lots of fun editing the oars from the official OUBC logo to serve as dividers and decorations for the page numbers.

Additionally, I got to edit a full newspaper page for the fic! I was very excited find an opportunity to slip Leyendecker's The Finish (1908) in.

The fic ended beautifully, so I wanted to include one last element at the end to capture the atmosphere. I settled on L'aviron (1932) by Milivoj Uzelac. It makes me feel as though Harry and Draco will continue rowing together long after I've closed the book.

I of course had lots of fun sewing the headbands, and got to do it with not one but TWO copies!

Things got tricky when I had to recreate the cover. I had a poor understanding of how vector images worked, and ended up having to redraw it three times. Once I finally cracked and taught myself how to use Illustrator, the program crashed...and I had to redraw it a fourth time!

I set the vector to cut on my Cameo 4, and I assembled the pieces together like a puzzle on my Silhouette mat. I used Allure's indigo, skylight, white, and black bookcloth in the process. I will be making a tutorial video on this method, so I will keep it brief here.

I also cut a piece of bookcloth to 8.5"x 11" and fed it through my inktank printer to print the center design. I then cut it out using the print and cut feature on my Cameo 4. Both of these methods were a first for me, and they were very scary!!

To be perfectly frank, the foiling was a nightmare and I don't want to get into it. I machine foiled the gold, and then foiled black lettering on top of it. I foiled the rose gold shading by hand, and then foiled a thin black outline along the edge of the banners to make them stand out more.

I hand foiled the spines (because I'm scared of measuring), painted the exposed board (to hide any gaps in the inlays), and used transfer tape to lift my design from the Silhouette mat and onto the cover.

One more fun detail— my copy and the author's copy are sisters! The dark blue and the light blue are inverted on the author's copy, making it distinguishable from mine. This is the first time I have made an author's copy for a fic, and I was admittedly incredibly nervous. I always worry about what authors will think of my work, but Citrusses gave me an incredible amount of encouragement and support throughout the process! Thank you for trusting me with your precious fic!

This story is a work of fanfiction and can be read on Ao3 for free. My bind and typeset are for personal use only and not for sale or profit. Keep fandom free!

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush ���

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[empress-simps]

For poly!marauders request (I saw you asked for some) could you do one where the reader faints out of nowhere and the boys get all panicked and worried and fret over her? 🌙

Hii! Thank you for the great request🫶🏻 It’ll be the first time I do a Poly!Marauder fic so pls do bear with me, I tweaked it a bit, hope you enjoy!

Worried Sick

Pairings: Poly!Marauders x Reader

CW: Mentions of toxic habits, Sirius being an arse, reader fainting, and language.

To say that you were tired would be an understatement. You were exhausted- mentally, and physically as you were buried in a mountain of books, flipping through almost a hundred pages an hour as you tried to juggle three essays and review for NEWTS all at once.

You were so immersed in your studying, the sound of pages flipping and scratching of the quill against parchment made you slip into a hyper-focused mode that you don’t notice the passage of time making you effectively miss lunch and dinner.

“There’s my smart darling!”

Sirius grins, sneaking up to you and kissing your cheek. You jolted, looking up as you saw him, and your other boyfriends sit next to you in the library.

“Hey guys.” You try your best to muster up a cheery smile for them. Remus, who was seated beside you frowns as he notices your pale and tired face. “We haven’t seen you today, love.” You smiled sheepishly, “I was finishing up the essays we’re assigned this week.” Sirius shakes his head in a disapproving manner. “Darling, you know we could just copy off of Remus’s essay when he does it, right?” A protest from Remus was heard, making you chuckle.

“I don’t think our moony would appreciate that.” You cracked a small smile, “But he lets us copy off of his essays ever since we can remember!” James defended Sirius who nodded agreeingly.

“What we would appreciate though, is you not missing out on dinner.” Remus told you, pulling out an apple and two dishes that the house elves prepared, (bribed by James) placing it in front of you.

“Erm... I don’t really have an appetite right now, love.” You grimaced, seeing the stern expression of the werewolf. “You need to eat, darling.” James pleads, puppy eyes activating. You looked at the other two, they seemed to mirror James. “Please love, you’re making us worried sick.” Remus gently pushed the food in your direction.

“Alright then…” How could you possibly deny your adorable boyfriends?

This continued for a few days or so, each day got the boys increasingly worried than yesterday. Sleeping for four hours (five if you’re lucky) and studying all day became your new routine, you hardly even spend time with the boys anymore, only during breakfast at the great hall since you mostly skip lunch and dinner to study. If it weren’t for your friends and your boyfriends, you would’ve already starved.

You groaned, plopping down in between Remus and James, taking a bite of the toast in front of you, and ignoring the light headedness you were feeling since you woke up. Marlene looked up from her plate and winced as she took in the sight of you.

“Merlin, y/n. You look worse than a dementor.”

“Thanks Marls, appreciate it.” You grumbled, taking a swig of the pumpkin juice, grimacing as you felt that a huge gulp of the beverage and a small bite of toast was too much for your stomach to handle.

“I’m serious, when was the last time you had a good night’s rest?” She frowns, shaking her head as she gave a pointed look at your boyfriends. “There’s already three of you and you can’t even manage to take care of your girl?”

“Not my fault she chooses to stick her nose into books rather than spending time with us.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his dramatic and petty side surfacing. “Pads.” Remus warns, the light headedness that you’ve felt suddenly worsens as you feel the urge to throw up. Lily seemed to notice, shooting a worried glance on your way as you waved it off.

“What Moony? It’s true! It’s like she forgot she even is in a committed relationship with us.” Sirius spat, getting riled up as James tried to diffuse the situation.  “Sirius, I already said I’m sorry…” She rasped out, trying to reach for his hand but he jerked it away. “Don’t be a knobhead, Pads.” Remus glares at him, irritated by how he’s acting.

Sirius rolled his eyes, it was obvious that he was hurt; You rarely spend time with them anymore, accidentally pushing them away and shutting them out just because of those stupid academics. “Whatever.” He grunts, and stands up, walking away from the table.

You felt yourself get weak; as the great hall spins around you, cold sweat started to form on your temple as spots slowly made it’s wany into your vision. Despite your body practically screaming for you to just sit and stay still, you push yourself from the benches and follow him. “Sirius, love- “He turns to you, frowning. “What now?”

 You opened your mouth, about to say a word when suddenly your legs gave out, the spots grew larger as you tried to look at Sirius before your world suddenly faded to black. You heard screams from the students, the loudest ones you recognized were from your friends, especially Marlene and Lily.

“Shit!” Sirius was thankful for his awfully fast reflexes that he managed to catch you before you hit your head on the cold floor. James and Remus rushed to the both of you. “Bloody hell, Pads!” James kneels in front of you, gently tapping your cheek as a sense of urgency surrounds them. “Darling, please open your eyes, can you hear me?” James asked you, every second that ticks makes the feeling of dread in his stomach grow larger.

“P-prongs, Moony… I promise I didn’t know she was going to faint…” Sirius whimpered as he cradles you, eyes looking frazzled and darting back and forth between his lovers. James felt his breath become faster, as you didn’t respond to any of his attempts. Other students started to gather around to take a peek on what’s happening in the middle of the great hall while Marlene and the other Gryffindor students kept them from nearing. Remus knelt next to James, trying not to freak out like what the other two are already doing. He slowly placed his trembling hand on your forehead. “No fever, but we need to take her to Madame Pomfrey.” He announces, biting his lip as Sirius lifts you up bridal style, the three of them rushing you to the hospital wing.

The bright and harsh light of the hospital wing made you wince, you slowly blink, trying to adjust to the brightness of your surroundings. “Darling! You’re awake!” James tackles you into a hug, almost squeezing out the air from your lungs.

“Prongs! Be careful!” Remus’s tone was harsh, as if scolding James. The boy slowly pulled away, pouting, which Remus had ignored. “How are you, love?” Remus’s gaze softened as he looked in your direction, taking your hand in his as he rubbed circles in the back of your hand.

 “For the most part, I’m fine.” You croaked out, James immediately gave you water. After taking a few sips, you let your eyes wander around, someone was missing- Where’s Sirius?

James seemed to catch on this, “He’s outside, beating himself up for being an arsehole.” You frowned, “Can you please tell him to come in? I want to see him…” You mumbled, James nodded and fetched Sirius outside of the hospital wing.

After a short while, Sirius emerged, darting his eyes anywhere but onto you. “Love…” You gently called out to him; Sirius bit his lip as he finally took in the sight of you. “Darling, I’m sorry. I was such an arse to you.” He sincerely apologized while you shake your head, “I’m sorry too, I was stressing out too much. I barely even managed to take care of myself and spend time with you guys.”

“Just don’t do it again, darling. We almost lost our minds when you fainted.” James told you as he tucks stray hair behind your ear.

“I won’t do that again; I’ll just copy off of Moony’s work.” She chuckled, glancing at the said boy, she saw the twinkle in his eyes as he smiled and rolled his eyes playfully.

The sun’s rays filtered out in the curtains of the hospital wing, encasing the four in a warm glow as they conversed amongst themselves, putting the events behind them; silently promising to love and care for each other, through thick and thin.

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 1: Mandibles!

Eight years ago, a few weeks shy of the day itself, I wrote something called The Arsonist Theory. It was my last theory post before making this blog, and looking back, it was disorganized, and I could have presented it better.

So, with new evidence, I'm doing just that.

The core of the theory is this: You don't blame the arson itself for a fire. You blame the arsonist that set the fire in the first place. There is a secret third piece of the puzzle here- not the act of arson, not the fire itself, but something more.

Therefore, consider this: Bill was not the sole perpetrator of the Euclidean Massacre. Rather, he was a weapon used to commit it.

Like the original, this will be a four-part theory, just to make it more digestible. I'll refer back to the original on occasion, but most of it will be new information.

Oh, and-

MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL UNDER THE CUT. THIS INCLUDES THE TEXT ITSELF AND SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS.

With that out of the way, let's go.

In another post, I mentioned that the specific wording of "Saw his own dimension burn" having a very passive connotation to it, plus parts of the glitched page, shown here- make it incredibly likely, if not certain, that the massacre was an accident on Bill's part.

Bill's main intention was to show everyone what he had seen all along-- show them that he wasn't crazy. But that's not what happened.

Also, just as an aside- part three of the original theory has some examples of exact wording being a thing to pay attention to in matters surrounding Bill. It mostly concerns his deals with others, but in a Doylist sense, it tells us: exact wording is important with this character, so pay attention.

But let's put a pin in that for a second.

On the page teaching us how to trick everyone into loving us, there's a portion about conversation topics:

The cipher in the candy heart says "LIES," by the way, and it's the only cipher on the page- immediately setting this portion apart from all the others. Bill says here that one conversation topic on a date-- while meeting someone-- is the very specific term, "mandibles."

Say, where have I seen that recently?

Huh... that's interesting! What a specific word to come up twice, in these specific contexts! Remember what I said about exact wording? Sure you do, you have a very good memory, I admire that about you!

But that's not everything I noticed.

All that glitching? You can actually see text peeking out at certain points. And what does that text say?

"Nice to meet ya!"

Over and over and over again.

There's nothing else in my mind that can make this make sense to me. There was someone else there. He met up with someone.

But that's not all- I still have three more posts of evidence to write.

Check back here for links to them- they should all come out within the next day or two, and I'm gunning for all of it to be out before the countdown on thisisnotawebsitedotcom hits zero.

Part 2: We get it, the billboard is a metaphor

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire