#does it count for the writing tag if i'm probably not going to write the rest of it idk man idk

[patolemus]

Wip Monday

Tagged by @gege-wondering-around @dontcallpanic and probably @novasillies at some point (yes I know I'm the literal worst please forgive me). Because I can never do anything like I'm supposed to, I'm not posting on Wednesday. This is a little thing I've been toying with per @superfluffycam-blog's request, nothing concrete yet but the idea is slowly coming together. With my track record, I'll either write the whole thing in one sitting sometime soon or it'll take ages (speaking of ages the Time Travel fic Is Coming I fucking promise!! It's been a very busy month but I'm done with my classes in like two weeks and then I just have to get through finals. I'll be back to post deranged shit about sterek after that)

The house is quiet. It’s always quiet these days, his dad away at the station for what feels like one long infinite shift, and Stiles running around town with a bunch of supernaturally inclined creatures at odd hours. On the nights he’s not running from certain death, Stiles keeps to his bedroom, headphones on and blaring music loud enough his eardrums hurt because at least that way he can pretend that’s the reason he doesn’t hear any noise around the house.

It wasn’t always like this. Stiles remembers a time when the house was full of noise, all the time. The low tunes playing on the radio in the kitchen, the occasional clang of pans against wooden spoons, the buzz of the television broadcasting the latest baseball game. Small giggles and loud shrieks of laughter, soft humming in the living room as his parents slow danced in the evening.

No one hums or slow dances anymore.

Stiles’ footsteps sound way too loud in the otherwise silent house. He drops his backpack by the stairs to pick up on his way to his room later, and beelines for the kitchen. There is a lone plate sitting on the drying rack, the only sign that his dad has come home sometime during the day while he was away at school. Stiles is not naive enough to believe that to be a coincidence. He and his dad haven’t crossed paths since… ah, Stiles doesn’t even know anymore. Between the werewolves and the hunters and the kanimas and the fucking crazy that has become his life, the days seem to be going by way too fast to keep count of them. These days, Stiles only has space in his head for the dates of the full moons.

He gets started on dinner before working on his homework. Stiles makes food for two, even though he knows his dad probably won’t come home to eat it in favor of getting something from the diner—a salad, most likely, because he has all of his dad’s usual haunts bribed and monitored, as well as all of his deputies, to make sure they don’t sell his dad anything that might make his health go sideways. Stiles knows most of them merely indulge him because of their own affection towards him, but Stiles isn’t above using that to make his dad stays as healthy as possible.

On the off chance the Sheriff does come home tonight, though—a slim, slim chance, Stiles wants there to be food for him to eat. He doesn't want to give his dad another reason to be disappointed, another reason to be mistrustful. Stiles still feels cold all over when he remembers the resignation on his dad's eyes, how he'd said he didn't know who Stiles was anymore.

It’s... it's been a tough year.

And I'm afraid that's all I've got for you. I've always loved the stories that explore Stiles and the Sheriff's complex relationship, how Claudia's death altered their dynamic to the point where it was hard to figure out who was the parent and who was the child, how Stiles became this autonomous, independent character we see in canon at the age of 10 years old. This is, in theory, meant to be a character study centered on that topic. Will I succeed? Who knows!! Not me. Gently tagging @dontcallpanic @salty-fryingpan @endwersed @novasillies @hedwig221b and @gege-wondering-around

[fiddleabout]

“Finally,” Ava sighs out.  It’s barely anything, but it has walls and a roof and, crucially, a firepit and a stack of bearskin blankets.  The door closes on the howling northern wind and Ava watches as the druskelle, ice crystallized in her dark hair and along her darker eyelashes, immediately sets to sorting the stacked firewood by dampness and finding a tinderbox and flint for the fire.

“You just never stop, do you,” Ava says as she sets to peeling off her ratty kefta.  Running away from Os Alta and the Darkling had seemed like a good idea at the time, keeping the sunlight that had found its way out of her away from him an imperative to protect Diego and the rest of Ravka, but in avoiding anyone Ravkan she’d ventured too close to the permafrost and stumbled into a druskelle camp.  And then the storm hit, leaving her to die in a cage in a sinking ship full of druskelle riding high on the fact that they captured Ravka’s only hope for destroying the shadow sea that kept them economically crippled.  Her kefta is a heavy weight that nearly drowned her in the ocean when the ship sank, and is just as liable to kill her now with how waterlogged and cold it is.

The druskelle doesn’t say anything, just like she hadn’t said anything since sulkily agreeing to let Ava’s sunlight and the barest edges of warmth it offered keep them from freezing while they swam their way to shore with her navigation.  

The kindling catches, and the drier pieces of wood burn quick.  Ava finishes stripping away her clothes, the faintest edges of heat from the infant fire licking at the clammy skin of her back, and she’s halfway to wrapping one of the musty bearskins around herself when a strangled noise sounds from behind her.

“What are you--”

“What, they don’t teach you basic winter survival in grisha murder school?” Ava says in perfect Fjerdan as she turns, waiting an extra half second to tug the bearskin up enough to cover her sternum and collarbones just to see the reaction she gets: a dark flush, highlighting freckles that had been almost invisible to date; an abrupt realignment of her gaze towards the patched roof of the shack; hands locked behind her back, as if she’s not actively shaking with the cold of her waterlogged and frozen clothes.  “You should, too, unless you want to suffer the embarrassment of freezing to death in an empty shack after surviving a shipwreck.”

“It’s not proper.”  Her eyes stay locked on the ceiling, her shoulders stiff under her sodden clothes.  Ava sighs and steps closer to the fire, close enough that the bearskin around her brushes along the sleeve of her uniform and the saintsforsaken wolfhead on the shoulder identifying her as an elite Fjerdan grisha-hunter.  The druskelle bristles; it’s undermined by the way she shudders and nearly trips jerking away from Ava.

“And dying is?”  Ava settles down with a sigh next to the fire, wiggling one hand out of the bearskin and holding it towards the fire.  The druskelle redirects her focus from the ceiling to the meager pile of firewood, feeding a larger log onto the growing fire.  It smokes aggressively, the heavy wet of the coastal winter leaving the wood damp and sizzling.  “And after I so generously saved your life.  Seems dishonorable to let yourself die now.”

“You--” she cuts off, lips pressing together tightly.  Or, at least, they try to; her teeth are almost chattering with the cold.  “You can barely swim.  You hardly did anything but a little bit of cursed light.”

“And you would’ve frozen without it,” Ava says smugly.

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

I think I've decided my gender is willful Shakespeare men

[ostensiblyfunctional]

Okay so I recently reread all the Magus of the Library books I own and something about the Kadoe niggled at the corner of my brain that now permanently and inexplicably owned by Star Wars. Such as the fact that the Kadoe widely use masks, but not all of them, and of the ones that do, the only ones that can see their face are their family or spouse. And also, it is highly inappropriate for others to refer to a Kadoe by their given name. And also, but less relevantly, the Kadoe used to have a prolific empire, and were ostensibly very good at fighting considering that their contribution to the Seminal Scripts is a trio of grimoires that are apparently the most terrifying in all of history, before the empire fell to the Rakta.

Now, I dunno about you, but that sounds like a Star Wars group of people who are sworn to never reveal their face to anyone other than family, who restrict use of their personal name, and who used to have an empire before it fell. And are also really good at fighting.

Also, uh. Well. Haupi and Jedi and systematic massacre of an entire people. Y'know. Some parallels could be drawn there. And also maybe between Sith Lords, the Emissary of Wormwood, and great evils making things worse for everyone everywhere.

All I'm saying is that it wouldn't feel out of place if some Kadoe—maybe a Tass or Sooni or whatever subclassification is listed in the books—who comes from a highly traditional, secretive sect who obscure their names and bodies in addition to their faces, coming across some long-lived yet still childlike remnant of the Haupi, and being tasked with returning this child to whatever of their people is left.

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. ��Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[eloquentlytired]

old!logan howlett x fem reader

18+ mdni

the taxi driver

pairing: old!logan howlett x fem reader word count: 3k tags: taxi driver logan - build up - eventual smut - large age gap ( reader in/over mid 20s and logan in his 50s ) - singular mention of thr0wing up and dr*gging - savior logan - some surface wounds - logan loves calling u sweet girl and sweetheart author's note: i wrote this hurriedly bc in case u havent noticed my blog has been full of old logan for a reason.. i too have become addicted w him- reblogs and likes are very welcome! ^_^

ৎৎৎ

“where to, sweetheart?” logan asks and you speak your address to him so softly that he almost misses it.

the drive is smooth and there's no real disturbance except some distant honking.

when the light is red and the cars remain static, he gazes at you through the review mirror. there’s a notebook in your lap which you seem to write in frantically. it is almost amusing how fast you're doing it too; the words probably look like childish scribbling.

“that pencil must be suffering.” his gruff voice makes you jump a little and you look up at him, feeling your skin grow warm when you realize what he means.

“it does. I gathered a whole collection of tortured pencils after getting into university.”

your reply amuses him even further and he offers a low hum as he starts the car again as soon as the light turns green. when logan finally takes you home, you hand him the money and wish him a good day.

“be good to your pencils.” is all the older driver offers before nodding at you.

the next time you see him, you're running late and there are tears in your eyes. tears that soon start falling when logan asks what happened.

you're glad it's him — you didn't want to be crying in front of a total stranger. he was a stranger but kind of familiar?

you wipe your cheeks and tell him you're in a hurry to go to university.

he drives fast but carefully — and he's sharp with it too.

“you’re absolute gold,mister.” you whisper stunned because this man has driven you five minutes early to your exam; if it was another driver he'd surely not give a fuck to be fast.

as always you hand him the money and you thoughtlessly press a kiss on his cheek while speaking so many thank yous to him.

“go. ace that exam.” logan offers a sympathetic look before you're running off to the gates.

he has no clue about the faint mark of lipstick that's tattooed on his cheek until his next customer points it out. there's some embarrassment there but also a smile that ghosts over his mouth as he wipes it away.

“third time's a charm.” you say smiling when you enter logan’s taxi. again.

he's just in time after you called; the weather will evidently grow bad and you're in no mood to be walking or waiting for some different transportation to take you home.

logan shares a faint smile with you; it's rare but it's there.

“where we going this time, sweet girl?” he asks and peers at you from the review mirror. his eyes always hold some sort of intensity that makes you shift in your seat. he notices but says nothing.

“just my home.” you reply dumbly and logan simply stares at you, unable to suppress that smile of his.

you realize how dumb your answer is because why would he remember your address? it's been a while and he has tons of customers everyday.

“gosh,I'm an idiot. my address—”

he surprises you by driving off absurdly, the motion startling you and making you grip the door. logan chuckles and shakes his head. “i know.”

oh. he does remember. you pray to reach your house before the upcoming thunderstorm but life has cursed you and the road is packed with unmoving cars. you will be stuck in there for a while for sure.

when the first thunder strikes, you yelp and cover your ears with your hands. you and logan stare at each other through the review mirror and you mumble a soft apology to him. all he wants to do is run his fingers through your hair and tell you it'll be okay.

another thunder roars and you helplessly pull your knees to your chest while resting your chin on top of them. logan deciphers the situation and before he's in the unpleasant moment of having your poor self break down, he reaches for the radio.

his favorite station is always on, he's at an age where he suffers from anything bass boosted or heavy. the jazz music that drowns the car is loud but not unpleasant. you stare at him surprised and when you realize he's done it for you, so you won't be scared, you smile so widely.

you can't talk since the music is loud but logan asks if this is okay with a nod and you nod back, still smiling. thank you, you mouth and he turns his head just a little to wink — nothing weird or bad. he just wants you to laugh again and you do.

“thank you once again,mister.” you mumble when he parks right outside of your home. logan gives his usual hum and turns to look at you again, his eyes regarding you with affection.

“see ya, sweet girl.” he says and you lean forward with purpose this time to press another kiss on his cheek. logan says nothing as he watches you go and by the time he gets another customer notifying him of the lipstick mark, he doesn't clean it up.

“what the fuck happened?” logan growls and he looks at the backseat where you're sitting, crying your eyes out. this was probably the second time he asks you something like that.

you don't reply and it worries him to his core.

“sweetheart.” you feel a calloused palm press on your knee and it momentarily distracts you from crying. you look at logan’s hand, the one he's outstretched to touch you.

your tears filled eyes stare at him for a long time before you tell him everything. “they put something in my drink. the ice in my drink..it just..and then everything began spinning so I left—" you mumbled in panic between intense sobs.

logan felt his blood boiling. “who? tell me who.”

after a few moments of convincing you reveal it to him — what the man looks like, what he's wearing and where he's sitting. logan enters the bar he's just picked you up from and you wait in the backseat of his taxi. silently and anxiously.

logan returns moments later and your heart raises to your throat. you can barely speak as you take in his bloodied sight — the blood on his shirt and knuckles, the cut he's sporting under his eye and a bruise that occupies the side of his jaw. but whatever blood is on his shirt doesn't belong to him.

“you should've seen the other guy.” logan says and he's smiling, and then you're smiling too.

you're throwing up in the middle of nowhere as logan holds your hair back with a single hand while his other hand strokes your middle. once you're done, he gives you a few tissues and reassuring words.

“it’s good you threw that shit out yar system, sweetheart. ya did good.” and the praise makes your heart throb. logan shakes his head as you stammer out a few apologies about dragging him around like this — he is glad to have helped. he is glad it was him you called and not another.

you two find a convenience store on your way back and decide to take a break. he watches with amusement as the first thing you do is buy toothpaste and a toothbrush while he takes care of some other needs — like water and something for you to snack on after everything.

he is waiting, sitting on his car hood when you return from the bathroom. you smile at him and he feels relieved to see you doing better than those few hours ago when he found you. to his surprise you sit by his side, your arms touching.

“thank you for everything. I feel like you're my guardian angel at this point.” he simply shakes his head while shoving his hands in his pockets.

“i’m no guardian. just a driver.” logan replies and his eyes find yours as you chew on the crackers he's bought you.

he stares at your wide eyes, your pouty cheeks and those lips that have occupied his cheek twice. logan shamelessly thinks he wants them a third time on him.

when the night breeze gets too much for your exposed shoulders, he's taking off his jacket without a second thought and putting it around you. you lean on him wordlessly and logan doesn't push you off. one of his arms settle around you before his calloused palm pulls you close by your shoulder.

“mister?” you call out and look up at him, your cheek squishing against his shoulder.

“spill it, sweetheart.” he says in a gruff voice.

“you never told me your name.” and logan realizes you're right — he should've introduced himself sometime ago, right? “it’s logan.” he says after sometime of simply staring at you.

“logan.” you repeat and if it was possible he'd melt right there and then because of how gentle you are with speaking his name.

he doesn't expect you to block his entrance when he's heading for the driver's seat. your eyes stare up at him, sparkling and pleading, and logan is a weak man. he curses himself.

“logan.” you moan softly as he kisses your throat while hovering over you in the backseat of his taxi. logan wants nothing more than to take you but he also wants to be slow — to be kind with you. what have you done to him?

he asks your permission for every piece of clothing he wishes to remove and you kiss his face every time for it.

when you're both bare — minus logan’s trousers which simply pool around his ankles — he worships you like no one else has done before.

logan presses passionate and possessive kisses at the center of your throat, then the space between your breasts before going further down. “o-oh.” when his beard scratches against your navel, your whimpers grow louder and he can sense how sensitive you are. he can smell the heat on you too.

“so sweet.” your thighs are on his shoulders as his face disappears between them. your entire body trembles while logan devours the weeping storm in between your legs, his tongue licking at your folds like a starved man before he's wrapping his lips around your clit.

it's a lot and you simply grip his hair while crying out. logan grunts and sucks on that sensitive bud hungrily before sliding his tongue low to your entrance. he gives it a rough lick before pulling away to create some space for his hand.

the slide of his first finger is smooth because you're dripping for him, all over, and he praises himself for holding back.

when he adds the third finger and goes knuckles deep inside you, he feels your gummy walls clenching around him so tight. logan curls his fingers and you shudder, your thighs trembling on top of his shoulders.

“please—” you whimper and he's grinning at you while thrusting his fingers in and out of your hole. the sweat that slowly forms at your nape does not bother you. the only thing bothering you is that logan isn’t fucking you yet — with something more than his fingers.

“please what, sweet girl?” he asks and you draw a sharp breath when he flicks your clit with his tongue while driving his fingers deeper into your pussy.

you flutter around him and whine. “fuck me. please fuck me.”

logan is fixated on your eyes as you straddle him and sink down his cock. you react at the same time, groaning, as the thickness penetrates you and stretches you out endlessly.

you sway your hips once experimentally then twice and you already feel so full.

“logan.” you moan and your hands grip his shoulders for support.

“come ‘ere, sweet girl.” he grumbles and slides both of his hands around your thighs, squeezing them hard.

you're confused at first until he's leaning his face forward and kissing you. there's a fondness in your heart when that beard brushes against your cheeks and you smile before returning the kiss; it's passionate but slow. patient. exactly how you'd been with each other until now.

you do most of the work raising your hips until only the head of his cock is nestled within you and then you fall back down, taking him in deeper than ever. you bounce on his lap and when logan slaps your ass with his hands, your walls tighten around his cock.

he does it again. and again. until he knows your skin has grown tender beneath his hands and aching. he can tell by the way you whimper into his shoulder as you ride him, your buttocks slamming against his hips.

"you on the pill, sweetheart?" logan has to ask for obvious reasons. you nod and his cock throbs inside you as something in him snaps. his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your ass and he slightly raises his hips from the seat as he takes control of the situation. he slams his hips against your own, his heavy balls colliding with your skin. you moan into his shoulder as your body jolts with each thrust you receive below you. "logan!" you sob when the head of his cock assaults your sweet spot repeatedly and his grasp on your asscheeks tightens; you're sure you'll bruise by that type of hold.

logan can't remember the last time he's acted like this; his current age didn't exactly allow him to have fun like he once did. but right now he was going into a frenzy with you, burying his face between your bouncy breasts and licking the space there. his thrusts were rough and hurried, your clit brushing against his pubic hair, the sensation causing your pussy to clench even tighter around his thick girth. "won't last, sweetheart." he warns you and you place your hands on the seat behind him as you start bouncing on his cock again, moving opposite logan's thrusts.

he comes with a growl, his chest vibrating as he does, and you follow right after as your weeping pussy comes around him with a rare tremble. you feel everything; the way he empties himself inside you and slides impossibly deeper as if his solid purpose is to fill your womp with his seed. the way he grows soft inside your cunt and slowly slips his cock out. the way his cum dribbles out of your gaping entrance, probably staining him and the seat. he doesn't care.

"everything alright, sweet girl?" logan asks, one of his hands caressing your buttocks while the other settles over your cheek. you look at him, all spent and pretty, your eyes unable to stay open for long. logan faintly smiles and presses a loving kiss on your forehead while swiping his thumb across your cheek.

"sleepy." you explain in a single word and he hums. you stay still as logan drapes his jacket over you for the second time that night. the heat his body radiates and the gentle rumble of his chest lulls you to sleep. and as that soft caressing on your hair continues, logan contemplates what to buy you for breakfast.

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 20

THIS IS PART OF THE FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS) DON'T SERIES! T

PROMPT: “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

KINK: Morning Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V. Lots of kissing and touching.)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TAG LIST: See Comments

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to be honest I was really struggling with my original idea for Kinktober Day 20. It was a different Kink with a different character but it wasn't coming together like I wanted. I had started and scrapped it five or six times. But I also had this that I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't think it fit with the story I originally was writing it for (a Jake series that I've since abandoned cause I wasn't loving how it was coming together) but I feel like it could fit the Kinktober theme so here it is! Hope you like it! xx

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You slowly stir awake, feeling the warmth of Jake’s body pressed against yours, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his deep, even breaths, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him, enjoying the unexpected comfort of waking up in his arms. This isn’t how things usually go.

Your relationship with Jake has been easy, with no strings attached. At least, it was supposed to be. But now, with the way he’s holding you so protectively, it feels different. You remember last night—how you’d planned for another casual hook-up, but instead, after, you’d ended up tangled together under the covers, watching a romcom of all things. And then, instead of leaving like he always does, Jake stayed.

Your heart pounds softly in your chest, the weight of the situation settling in. Is this still just a fling? Or is something else happening between you two? The lines are starting to blur.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him just yet, and glance over your shoulder. His usually cocky, confident expression is softened in sleep, his features relaxed, and suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

You know you should probably move, maybe get up, but something about this moment feels too good to let go. You bite your lip, torn between the easygoing fun of what you had before and the undeniable change that seems to be happening.

Just as you're lost in thought, Jake stirs, his arm tightening slightly around your waist before his voice rumbles low in your ear. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

His voice, deep and gravelly from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to smile. You manage to reply softly, “Morning.”

Jake shifts behind you, pulling you closer for a second before he stretches and rolls onto his back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moves. The bed feels colder without him wrapped around you, and you can't help but miss the warmth. He runs a hand through his messy hair and glances over at you, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. “Sleep well?”

You nod, still feeling a bit off-balance by the situation, and try to keep things casual. “Yeah, I did…you?”

“Better than usual,” he says, surprising you with the sincerity in his tone.

You sit up slowly, pulling the covers around you, suddenly feeling a bit exposed—not physically, but emotionally. This isn’t what you signed up for. Friends with benefits doesn’t include waking up in each other’s arms, watching movies together, and it certainly doesn’t include the softness in Jake’s eyes when he looks at you right now.

You’re about to say something, maybe ask him about breakfast or make some quip to lighten the mood, but before you can get the words out, you feel Jake’s lips press against your bare shoulder. It’s not just a kiss—it’s gentle, lingering, almost like he’s savoring the moment. And it catches you completely off guard. Jake’s mouth has been everywhere on you before, but this? This feels different. It’s tender. Intimate. Too intimate.

Your breath hitches slightly as you glance back at him, and you’re met with a gaze that’s softer than his usual playful smirk. His green eyes seem to be studying you, watching your reaction carefully. For a second, your heart pounds a little harder, and all you can think is what are we doing?

“Jake…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what you want to say. You feel like you should address this shift, but before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing against your collarbone this time, trailing upward to your neck.

The air between you thickens, and any words you might’ve had dissolve in the heat of the moment. Jake’s hand slides along your waist, pulling you back down onto the bed, your body instinctively responding to him. You should stop and talk about this, about what this all means, but when he moves closer, you can’t seem to find it in you to pull away.

Jake’s lips linger for a moment, his breath brushing against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, not from cold, but from something much deeper. Something you hadn’t expected to feel this morning, or maybe ever in this situation. Sure, Jake has touched you plenty of times before, in ways that have sent your pulse racing and your skin burning. But this—this feels different.

Your heart begins to beat faster as his hand, which had been resting on your waist, tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flex just beneath the surface as he shifts beside you. He presses another kiss, this time closer to the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the contact. It sends your thoughts into a spiral, the question lingering in your mind—What is happening?

Before you can fully process it, Jake’s hand begins to move, sliding from your waist up along your ribs, his touch light and teasing. His fingers graze the band of your bra, tracing the edge in a way that makes your breath hitch. You shift slightly under the covers, your body responding to him even as your mind races to catch up. Every touch feels deliberate like he’s taking his time, savoring every second. It’s not the hurried, frenzied touches you’re used to—it’s slow, almost reverent, and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

His hand moves back down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over your head, tossing it aside. You don’t even think to stop him—you don’t want to. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Jake’s hands as he cups your sides, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your bra. His lips find your neck again, this time pressing a series of kisses, each one sending sparks through your body.

You open your mouth to say something—to ask him what this is, what it means—but before you can, his hand slides around your back, expertly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He pulls it off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you suddenly feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Jake doesn’t give you time to think about it. His hands are on you again, skimming over your bare skin as his mouth moves lower, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone. His touch is slow and patient as if he’s in no rush to get anywhere, and it drives you wild. You can’t help the way your back arches slightly, your body reacting to him before your mind can catch up.

As his lips trail down your chest, you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down with the same deliberate slowness. The way he’s taking his time—like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a flush of warmth through your body.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to you. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and consuming, filled with a hunger that makes your head spin. There’s an urgency now, but it’s not the same frantic rush as before. It’s something deeper—something that makes your heart race as much as your body responds.

Jake’s hands roam your body with a familiar ease, but this time, there’s a softness to his touch, a kind of reverence that makes your skin tingle. His mouth moves back to your neck, trailing down to your chest, and you can feel the heat between the two of you intensifying. Every kiss, every touch, feels deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re completely lost in him. His mouth is everywhere—on your skin, your lips, your neck—and all you can do is let yourself fall deeper into the moment, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, as he moves against you. You’re no longer just two friends sharing a casual hookup. This is something more. And it terrifies you as much as it thrills you.

Jake pushes your legs a little further apart as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He spreads the precum that formed at his tip around the head with his thumb before pumping himself a couple of times.

He then presses the tip through your folds as he gently pushes into you. His eyes find yours as his hips slowly move until they are pressed flatly against yours. Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips before he started slowly moving in and out of you.

Your breath started to hitch as he moved in and out of you, each thrust feeling like it was a little deeper than the last. Slowly his pace started to quicken.

“J-Jake,” you moaned as you started to move your hips up to meet his.

You feel his lips curve into a smirk against your neck before he whispers, “God, I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

Baby. That was new. He’d never used pet names before.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it because his hand slid down your stomach until one of his fingers started rubbing circles on your clit. You felt your back arch up off the sheets as the knot in your stomach tightened even further.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm right there.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. I’m…I’m almost there,” Jake breathily said as he picked up his face even further. Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you tried to hold it off, but it was getting nearly impossibly.

“Okay, come with me baby.” He breathed after a few more thrusts. Your toes curled and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you. It was the most intense one he had ever given you. It left you feeling slightly dizzy as you laid there trying to get the air back into your lungs.

Once the intensity subsides, your breaths gradually even out, but the room still feels heavy with the lingering heat of what just happened. Jake shifts beside you, his body slightly resting on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. His skin is warm, slick with a light sheen of sweat, and his chest rises and falls against your back. Slowly, his arm drapes lazily over your waist again, pulling you even closer until there’s barely an inch of space between you.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, a gesture that feels impossibly tender compared to what had just transpired. It sends a strange flutter through your chest, and you can’t help but close your eyes, sinking into the feeling. His lips linger there for a moment, as though he’s savoring the closeness, his breathing still a little uneven as it fans across your skin.

You lay there in silence, the warmth of his body cocooning you, and for a fleeting second, it almost feels like more than just a fling. Jake holds you like you’re something precious, his grip on you gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he loosens it. His fingertips lazily trace small circles on your hip, an absent-minded gesture that sends ripples of electricity through your skin.

But even as your heart skips in response, your mind is racing. The intimacy of it all—of him kissing your shoulder earlier, of the way he’s holding you now—feels too close. Too much. Like it’s crossing a line you weren’t prepared to cross. You stare up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above you, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in your head.

What are we doing? It’s the question that’s been eating at you for weeks now, but after moments like this, it feels impossible to ignore. You’ve been telling yourself for months that it’s just physical—that this friends-with-benefits thing is working. But lying here, wrapped in Jake’s arms, the weight of his body still pressed against yours, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something more. And if it is—what does that mean for the two of you?

Beside you, Jake’s breathing has slowed, becoming more even, and you can feel his muscles relax against you. He looks so at ease, so content, like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s disarming, seeing him like this, without the cocky smirk or swagger. Just Jake, quietly holding you in the early morning light.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe he’s thinking the same things, maybe he’s not thinking at all—but the silence between you feels charged, like there’s a conversation you should be having but neither of you is ready to start. You know you’ll have to face the reality of what’s happening between you eventually, of what it’s becoming. But not right now. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay here, tangled up with him in this moment. His arm still draped over you like he’s anchoring you to him, his breath warm against your neck, and the lingering heat from the sheets creating a bubble you don’t want to burst just yet. It’s safe here, in the quiet aftermath, even if it’s complicated. Especially because it’s complicated.

Eventually, Jake shifts beside you, the movement pulling you out of your thoughts. His arm loosens around your waist, and you can feel him adjust himself behind you. There’s a slight pause before he moves, as if he’s hesitant to break the moment, but then he finally leans back. You hear him run a hand through his tousled hair, the sound of it brushing against the pillow beside you.

With a small sigh, you push yourself up slightly on your elbows, feeling the cool air hit your skin as the blanket falls away. You turn your head just in time to see Jake glancing at himself in the small mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair again, making sure it still looks good. It’s such a Jake thing to do—caring about how his hair looks even after everything that just happened—and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

He catches your eye in the reflection, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lazy grin. “Pull yourself together,” he teases lightly, the heat from earlier still lingering in his tone. “You look a little... well, you know.” His eyes flicker over you in a way that makes you feel warm all over again.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. Instead, you push the covers off and slide out of bed, your legs still a little shaky as you stand. You make your way over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and doing your best to hide any signs of what had just happened in the bedroom. The cool water is refreshing, helping you regain some sense of normalcy after the heated intensity of the morning.

When you finally feel composed enough, you step out of the bathroom and make your way through your apartment, finding Jake by the door. He’s already pulling on his shirt, his movements casual and unhurried, as if the last hour hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. He glances at you as you approach, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you walk out together, the easy silence between you feeling both comfortable and charged, the weight of what just happened lingering in the air between you. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the parking lot, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal—like this could be any other day.

You head toward your car, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin, but before you can reach the handle, you feel Jake’s arm snake around your waist. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The gesture is light and easy, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. And maybe he has—but it still feels different now.

Your heart stutters in your chest as the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin. You wait for something more—for him to say something, to acknowledge the shift between you—but instead, Jake gives you a small smile, his signature smirk just barely there, and turns to walk toward his truck.

You blink, watching as he pulls open the door and climbs inside, the engine roaring to life. His truck pulls out of the lot, disappearing around the corner like it’s just another day. Like nothing extraordinary just happened. Like he hasn’t turned your world upside down in the span of a single morning.

And you’re left standing there by your car, fingers still hovering near the door handle, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. What just happened? He kissed you goodbye—and went on about his day like it was nothing. Like it was routine.

But it didn’t feel routine, not to you.

Your stomach twists, a confusing swirl of emotions rising inside you. You’re no stranger to Jake’s touch, to the way he holds you close in private, the way he knows exactly how to make you feel good. That was the arrangement—the simple, no-strings-attached setup that the two of you had fallen into. It had worked perfectly at first. Fun, light, uncomplicated. But this morning, something shifted. And it scares you.

You press your lips together, your fingers tightening around your car keys as you replay the morning’s events in your head. The softness in Jake’s kiss. The way he held you like it was more than just a fleeting moment. The way he kissed your shoulder earlier, something so intimate it almost felt like a confession in itself. But none of it made sense. You weren’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Right?

You lean against your car for a moment, trying to sort through the haze of emotions clouding your mind. There’s an ache deep in your chest—something that wasn’t there before. It’s that feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks now, the feeling that this wasn’t just about hooking up anymore. Not for you. And maybe not for him either.

But then why did he just leave? Why did he act like this was nothing more than your usual routine?

You bite your lip, trying to shake off the growing uncertainty. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe this is just what happens when you start spending too much time together outside of the original arrangement. Lines blur, things get messy, and suddenly it’s not just about sex anymore.

But the worst part is, you don’t even know what you want. You don’t know if you’re ready to confront whatever this is becoming. If you’re ready to have that conversation with Jake, to open up the possibility of things going wrong. Because things were good—before they got complicated. Before last night. Before this morning.

You sigh, the cool breeze brushing your hair as you glance toward the empty spot where Jake’s truck had been parked moments ago. Your mind is a jumble of emotions—confusion, longing, fear, and something else you’re not quite ready to name.

What if Jake feels it too? What if he’s just as confused as you are?

But then again... what if he doesn’t?

You unlock your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. You don’t know where this is going, or what happens next, but one thing is clear: things have changed between you and Jake. And you can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much you might want to.

As you sit there, staring out at the quiet street ahead, you wonder if Jake is thinking about you now, if he’s replaying the morning in his mind like you are. Or if, for him, this is still just part of the arrangement—a fun, easy fling that hasn’t crossed any lines.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel, the echo of Jake’s kiss still lingering on your skin.

You thought you had it all figured out. But now, standing on the edge of something new and uncertain, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve fallen in deeper than you ever intended to.

And the scariest part? You’re not sure if Jake’s ready to follow you there.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[anachronismstellar]

I was talking to my girlfriend and she said that she just goes through a tag and sometimes it's hard to find good fics if the fandom is too big or if there's too many fanfics.

So, idk how anyone else does it, but here's my "how to find good fics and lose yourself in madness" guide:

Open our trusted and beloved ao3 on the fandom/ship tag what you wanna read about. Or other site you prefer, but this works best for ao3, I'm old, idk how to deal with wattpad nonsense, sorry

Go through the filters <- LISTEN HERE KIDS, THIS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE!!! FILTER THE CONTENT U DONT WANNA SEE PLS FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

Find a fic that you like. I tend to stick to long ones, so I filter the word count as well but you do you

Read the fic; kudo the fic; comment on the fic; bookmark the fic; even better, and/or DOWNLOAD THE ONES YOU WANNA READ AGAIN (you never know what the future might bring and again IF THE AUTHOR DELETED THEIR STUFF ITS NONE OF OUR BUSINESS)

Then open the author's profile, click on works AND FILTER IT AGAIN THIS IS IMPORTANT!!! YOUR FAV AUTHORS CAN WRITE WHATEVER THE SHIT THEY WANT AND YOU'RE NOT ENTITLED TO COMPLAIN, JUST MOVE ON

Read all the fics that they wrote for the fandom you're hyperfixating rn, and again, kudo/comment/bookmark/download

Go to the Author's bookmarks. Because we USUALLY write what we like to read, so the author's bookmarks will probably have fics that, if you liked their fics, you gonna like them too.

FILTER. FILTER THE ONES YOU DON'T WANNA READ. USE THE EXCLUDE TAGS FILTER FOR THE LOVE OF-

Read all the fics the author had bookmarked

Find a new author that you liked.

Go back to step 4.

Congratulations, you're late for work/school/family gathering/any other appointments you might have.

Have fun!

[sant-riley]

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

[kykyonthemoon]

Where The Osmanthus Whispers

In another universe where you and Zayne grew up together without ever being apart, you have the chance to celebrate his birthday with him.

Happy birthday to our dear Zayne!

── .✦ Zayne x F.Reader (MC)

── .✦ Tags: AU, fluff, sweet, trope: childhood friends to lovers, really soft fluff, i was literally melting while writing this piece, birthday fic

── .✦ Word count: 2k2

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This fic was inspired by Zayne's birthday card "Eternal Attachment", especially the part where he and MC imagined what would happen if they grew up together.

For all the Zayne's girlies out there, I wish you have a blast on his birthday and all the days to come.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Where The Osmanthus Whispers

"Thank you for taking care of our boy, as well as celebrating his birthday with him on our behalf."

You responded to the two individuals on the laptop screen, saying: 

"It's nothing to worry about at all."

"Every year, we are fortunate to have you there. Otherwise, we can't bring ourselves to relax. Even though Zayne is a grown-up, taking care of his health and spending time dating are still things that concern the two of us the most."

When you were unsure of how you should respond, Zayne's mother piped up: 

"Oh my! Why did you mention that? Look how she's blushing! Surely they're really happy together, right, dear?" 

Auntie immediately turned around and asked, startling you. You attempted to clarify: 

"Ah, the truth is we aren't..."

"I know you'll take excellent care of Zayne. But hey, if he does anything to upset you, make sure to call and let me know! I will always stand by your side!”

"Auntie, we are not—"

"That is all!" We have to go now. We entrust Zayne's birthday celebration to you again this year!"

"—dating…"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You grumbled and glanced at the screen where the call had just ended. Zayne's parents traveled away from home for business, but every year they sent him presents from the places they visited. This year, as previous ones, the present package was delivered to your address. Surely Zayne's parents knew he was too busy at the hospital all day and night to return home, so they sent it to you instead.

Every year, it was just you and Zayne celebrating his birthday together. When you were children and his family was still around, you went to his house to celebrate. Now that he had grown up, Zayne no longer wanted to throw large parties. Sometimes he even forgot his own birthday. If it were not for the wishes and presents from his parents, or the cake you brought to his place, he would probably let the anniversary slip away into oblivion.

Come to think of it, Zayne's present was sent to you, his birthday party was organized by you, his parents somehow always assumed you two were dating... If only it were like that!

You reclined back on the sofa and turned on your phone. The first name that appeared on its contact list was invariably Zayne. You tapped the call button.

After a ring, Dr. Zayne's face emerged. He was not in the office, and the scene behind him made it clear he was in the hospital cafeteria.

“I'm here.”

You smiled as a greeting. “Is Doctor Zayne on his lunch break?”

“Several colleagues invited me to lunch. What about you? Not skipping lunch, are you?”

“Nope.” You replied. “Your parents have just called. Your present has also arrived at my door."

The corner of Zayne's mouth, which was always straight, curled up a bit before swiftly returning to its natural shape. But you managed to capture that moment. 

“I will fetch it after work.”

“Hello, Doctor Zayne! Can I ask you something about this morning's meeting?” A female voice sounded very close. That was not Yvonne's. Zayne nodded back to the person whose face you could not see, then he said to you:

“Is there anything else you want to share with me?”

"No." You answered a bit bluntly. Something ugly and unpleasant began to awaken in your mind. 

“I'll see you later then.” 

Zayne spoke. Then the screen switched off. You laid down on the sofa and glanced up at the ceiling, mind buzzing with the conversation at Akso Hospital a few days before.

Long story short, you were telling Nurse Yvonne about your plans for a celebration on Zayne's birthday. Greyson overheard it and volunteered to help. During the discussion, he mentioned:

“Recently there have been a lot of female interns coming to the hospital. They all appear to be big fans of Doctor Zayne. Aren’t you jealous?"

"Erm…" You were confused for a second. 

Greyson shook his head, as if he had no choice but to deal with the situation. "You're too subjective. Although Dr. Zayne is incredibly devoted and trustworthy, a little jealousy like this may spice things up and bring the two of you even closer to each other."

“I… Wait, what are you talking about?…”

After then, you were forced to spend half an hour listening to Greyson as the "guru" of your relationship with Zayne. Apparently, he, like everyone else, believed you and Doctor Zayne were romantically involved. You attempted to find a way to clarify it, but Greyson did not give you a chance. So you wondered how a person who claimed to know so much about love like himself could still be single.

In your room, you rolled back and forth on the sofa. At last, you decided to stop being concerned about it and focus on arranging Zayne's birthday party, which was just around the corner.

Everything went according to plan. Even Zayne, who was undoubtedly aware of the surprise party planned for him, followed your requests in a more obedient way. Thanks to the help of Doctors Riley, Greyson and Yvonne, the birthday party at the villa in the woodland happened especially warm and pleasant. Zayne was also genuinely delighted.

But it was not the only present you had prepared for him. As a child, Zayne's parents once told him, "The blessing given to you by the first stranger you meet on your birthday will supposedly come true". That was why you made the effort to ensure that the first person he saw on his birthday morning every year was you. This year was no different.

Zayne arrived at the destination on time. The modest food truck you rented in the forest was stocked with sweets and pastries. Zayne sampled all of the treats, but his absolute favorite was the frosted sugar cookies that you made by yourself. Following that, he proposed that you two go for a stroll around.

The osmanthus woodland was dyed yellow. The mellow fall sunlight, along with the crisp air, was quite pleasant. The dry leaves rustled under your feet as you ventured alongside Zayne. After a time, you decided to break the stillness:

“Last night, I dreamed of something very strange.”

Zayne slowed down and looked at you, wondering: "Is there any dream of yours that isn't strange?"

You threw him a glance, then laughed:

“It really was! Well, I dreamed of us in another world. There, Zayne moved far away from me when he was a child. We didn't keep in touch anymore. When we grew up, you became Doctor Zayne, and I was your patient.”

Zayne remained silent so you could finish your narrative, but he gazed at you as if he were anxious that your dream would come true and the two of you would be separated for a prolonged amount of time.

"In my dream, I always regretted not being with Zayne on your birthdays... But, if we really lost contact with each other many years ago, do you think we would see each other again?”

"Of course." Zayne responded without thinking too much. "Because of your negligence and lack of knowledge about health care, you would most likely need to visit the hospital on a regular basis. Then we would meet again."

You frowned. "Look who's talking! Last year, you tried to work on your birthday. It wasn't until late at night that you returned home to celebrate with me. If you didn't get a break this year, you'd definitely spend the entire day at the hospital, right?"

Zayne's footsteps came to an absolute halt. You had both just arrived at the lakeshore. Sunlight and osmanthus flowers appeared to pour gold into the lake. Shimmering. He turned to you and replied:

"Since someone took the trouble to organize a big birthday celebration for me, I must participate wholeheartedly. Otherwise, she would be extremely sad."

You smiled.

“I know that Doctor Zayne constantly prioritizes the health of others. But to me, your health is equally important. Come to think of it... The me in that dream didn't get to celebrate birthday with Zayne every year... She had many regrets. If we hadn't grown up together, things would be very different now, right?"

“That's right,” Zayne replied, “The me in your dreams would not have someone to celebrate his birthday with every year. The box containing his presents from someone important would be empty. No one would ask him to help with homework but ended up falling asleep instead. He would not know who to comfort with ice cream. His sleeves would not get wet because someone's hand was holding too tightly when they went to the beach for fireworks together. His shadow beneath the moon would be very lonely on the long road..."

Zayne hesitated. He reached out to pick up the yellow blossom that had just fallen onto your hair. 

“But even so, he would try hard to see his childhood friend again. They would be together again, making up for all the regrets during the time they were apart. They would always have each other in the later years. Just as we are now.”

For a moment there, you were unsure of what to say. Emotions surged in your heart, driving you to cry. You suppressed it, turned to face the lake and said:

“I really admire the me in that dream. Because she was free to express her feelings to Zayne… Because she wasn't…”

"Wasn't?" Zayne inquired out of curiosity.

"Nothing. I'm just wondering, if we weren't friends who grew up together, would things be clearer? For instance,... your parents, colleagues, classmates, patients, and others would not misunderstand the relationship between us..."

"Misunderstand?"

Confusion appeared on Zayne's face. You observed a golden flower descending onto his hair. Standing on tiptoe, you assisted him in taking it down. All of a sudden, Zayne grabbed your wrist. His eyes locked with you.

“Are you saying others are misunderstanding us?”

"Yes." You responded quietly. “They think we're… well… dating.”

“Are we not?”

"Huh?!"

The wind whistled. Flowers and leaves rustled together. Above your head, below your feet. But the sound of your heart beating was louder and clearer than anything. Zayne's hand traveled gently around your wrist, eventually grasping the osmanthus flower you were holding. He separated your fingers so that they would interlace with his.

"In the past, when I was about to leave home to attend a far-away school, there was a girl who gathered all of her courage to tell me this, 'Zayne, don't date anyone! I'll grow up soon! Wait for me!’ I kept my word to her. But it appears she has already forgotten what she told me."

The skin on your face was heated. You made an effort to turn away to hide your shyness, but Zayne frantically ran his hand through your hair, keeping your face toward him. You muttered:

"I was still a kid at that time... You skipped many grades and transferred to Linkon… I was so afraid we wouldn't be able to see each other anymore…”

You had said those words, that you wanted Zayne to wait until you grew up. You did not dare to consider the possibility that he would grow up before you did and eventually date someone else. You would no longer be able to be with him. Those childish words of yours were still kept in his heart until this moment.

“That's why I tried to study hard and looked forward to visiting you every weekend. I waited until you graduated, until you started your career. I counted every day off to be by your side. I don't expect you to recall what you said to me in our childhood. But, given how you are always at my side, taking care of me, and sharing your life with me, I assumed everything was obvious by now. That we belong together.”

“Well…” You tried to reorganize the words in your tangled emotions. Zayne and you had always been together like this. You had long been more than just friends. But you were always terrified of crossing that boundary just to discover he would not have the same feelings for you. The bridge of your nose burned slightly as you pressed your face against Zayne's massive palm, which had always protected you.

"I regret not expressing my feelings properly to you sooner." Zayne spoke gently. He took a step forward and hugged you. “Honestly, I am not good with words. I believed that simply being close to you was enough to convey my feelings. But it concerned you even more, which was not my intention."

You smiled softly, arms wrapping around Zayne's back.

"I wasn't certain I was that special in Zayne's heart. So I kept hesitating, doubting you, doubting myself... Now I understand. I know that I am able to freely express my feelings to you, just like the girl in my dream. Thank you, Zayne.”

Zayne's breath merged with yours, carrying the aroma of osmanthus and pastries. He whispered:

“Then I should learn to express my emotions even more. Starting now.”

Zayne's golden gaze focused on the corner of your lips. His fingers caressed your face in such a delicate manner. You smiled, eyelids half-closed. He leaned down to offer you the most tender kiss of all. Osmanthus blossoms fluttered in the breeze, delivering to you and Zayne the blessings of autumn.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 

She would have told you. 

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 

“A-Anakin?” 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!

Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny

[rey-jake-therapist]

Sauron, Galadriel and touch

Each time we see Sauron hug someone, touch their arms or their hair, put his arms around their shoulders etc. it's never gratuitous. He always has an agenda. He does that to manipulate them in a way or another, or to steal them something. He isn't a touchy type of guy, really.. I think he probably dislikes it, most of the time.

In Elendil's case, he probably didn't just pickpocket him but used some magic trick as well, because there's no way Elendil wouldn't have noticed. Not to mention that the dagger literally disappeared from Halbrand's hands up until he gave it back to Galadriel. Anyway, he still hugged Elendil to distract him from what was happening. There was not a bit of sincerity in that move.

Later, he put his hand on the smith's shoulder in an attempt to convince him to take him at his service. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture : "trust me bro, I'm the best !"

In this case, it was slightly different :

Sauron did that to steal Tamar's guild crest, so the intention was similar to when he hugged Elendil. But this time, he didn't do it discreetly. We know now that even as Halbrand (so not in full possession of the powers he had as Annatar), he was able to make his blood look red; so he could have easily projected the image of the guild's crest on Tamar's tunique, to make him think it was still there.

But see, Tamar offended him. He recalled him that Galadriel would probably never want him (though not because he was a "low man", but because he was the very evil she sought to destroy), and Sauron didn't like that. So what he did was provoking Tamar by stealing his crest in plain sight, so Tamar would follow him and give him the excuse he waited for, to do that :

We can also count that as touching, I guess ? But tell me again that Sauron wasn't interested in Galadriel romantically... It makes total sense for him to lose his shit because some man implied he wasn't good enough for her, right...

(I'll later write another meta about the few times that Sauron loses control. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's hot terrifying).

In season 2, I think we saw him touch Mirdania twice, and maybe once for Celebrimbor ? Though I can't find a gif of Sauron touching him except when he grabbed him at the end, so I'm not sure about that.

I've already discussed several times, including today, how Mirdania was a stand-in for Galadriel, so I won't go back to that here. Sauron doesn't feel any affection for Mirdania: wether he touches her hair and hand to manipulate her, or because she reminds him of Galadriel, or most likely, for both, it is, again, not gratuitous and not genuine.

And as for being touched... Oh boy, he doesn't like that at all. His reaction is most of the time him pulling a disgusted "how dare you touching me, you miserable worm ?" face.

This scene in particular was hilarious in this regard. He was very upset by Celebrimbor's refusal to forge rings for men, and Celebrimbor unwillingly added to the offence by giving him a condescending pat on the arm. Sauron probably had a hard time refraining the urge to murder Celebrimbor on the spot, here.

The Galadriel Case

Her case is special, as usual. Until episode 8, Sauron never touches her without her consent : after they arrive in Numenor, he invites it, but doesn't force it on her. it's supposed to be a "friendly" handshake symbolizing peace and a mean to give her Finrod's dagger back, but, well, hmm...

It's just straight out flirting. The way he looks straight into her eyes while pulling her to him, his weird conception of personal space... I can't NOT tag @apoloadonisandnarcissus 's thread about the Freudian symbolism in Haladriel interactions... It's worth reading. There was nothing friendly/platonic in his behavior, but, again... no unnecessary touching here.

Galadriel remains equally guarded towards him, even after she spends time with him and considers him as a "friend". As Sauron in episode 3, she only invites it, on the boat that takes them to the Southlands.

Even when she gives him back his pouch, in the forge, she does it in a way that her fingers barely touch his.

When she finds him wounded, she touches him where he's wounded, to check how serious it is. She could take his hand to comfort him, but.... Nope.

And yet, she's not usually that guarded with her friends, those with whom she shares a (truly) platonic relationship with, as we can see with Elrond and Arondir.

It's definitely not because she doesn't trust Halbrand/Sauron. She does, or she wouldn't be that heartbroken over him in season 2. No, I think she keeps him at arm's length because what she feels for him is not platonic at all, and she wants to keep her feelings in check. Keeping her distance with him (physically) is the way for her to do that, or so she thinks.

Now, back to Sauron. While during all season 1 he was never touchy with Galadriel, in episode 8, he suddenly is.

Not only that but he's also very flirtatious, like... more than usual.

Galadriel seems surprised with this unsolicited touching, and iffy, because she doesn't trust him anymore. She has just asked one of her fellow Elves to look in the catacombs of Eregion for everything they had about the Southlands and their royal lineage; after she heard Celebrimbor talk about "power over flesh" and seen Sauron enthusiastically offer his aid to the smith, she starts suspecting that Halbrand may be not who he claims to be.

Coincidence ? I think not. Even if she remained discreet, Sauron probably felt that something was off. He's very observant, and he knows her mind. If she changed of attitude with him, if she seemed even a little bit wary of him, there's no doubt he noticed it.

He certainly planned to tell her the truth about him very soon, at that point, but he also wants the rings to be forged so he could show her what they'd do with them. So this, imho, is Sauron buying time. He knows she's attracted to him, he may even know she's in love with him... I think he's trying to breach her defenses, here.

Did he succeed, even for the few weeks that separated this scene from the Sauron revelation ? That, we don't know. I'd say probably not, because just before the Elf brought her the records she asked for, she doesn't look like someone who trusts him again.

But then she's still in denial about him even after he admits he isn't the king of the Southlands, going as far as claiming he convinced Miriel to go help the Southlands, while it was her idea entirely... So who knows what happened during these three weeks. It's also possible she didn't suspect him to be Sauron, of all people. And anyways, she loves him. She definitely hoped till he revealed himself that he had a good explanation for everything.

Yesterday I published this post very late, and it's only this morning that I realized I omitted to mention a couple of other very important touches... Stupid me.

How could I forget the chin grab ?

We're in full "unsolicited touching" territory here. Personal boundaries be damned ! The chin grab has several connotations here : it's coded as romantic, but it's also an act of dominance and control, though there's no brutality at all in his gesture. Sauron wants Galadriel to look at him, aka to face the truth : he's still the man she loves, but he's also the monster she hates. They both coexist, in him, hence why the claims that "Halbrand never existed" or "Galadriel loved Halbrand but doesn't love Sauron" are both nonsenses and a complete misunderstanding of the season 1 finals. Galadriel knows who he is in this scene, and yet she's tempted.

The act of grabbing the chin is in itself controlling/dominating, but there's also tenderness : he's gentle, he caresses her cheek almost shyly; he wants her trust for Halbrand back, not her fear of Sauron. He wants to show her that she's loved, but you can feel that if she asked him to take his hand off her, he would back off.

Finally, this post ends with Sauron taking Galadriel's hands into his, with her holding Finrod's dagger.

You know, what he did with Morgoth's crown in season 2, binding her to him through a forced blood oath ? He wanted to do almost exactly that in season 1 already, and that's what this scene implies. Except in this scenario, Galadriel would have been ok with it: it would haven't been a metaphorical rape, but the closest to a consensual sex scene we'd have gotten in this show, if they had followed this route.

I'm not saying I wanted this, just to be clear: Galadriel was tempted to join Sauron in this scene, but it would have been a major breach to the LOTR lore if she had. "Touching the darkness", in Finrod's and Galadriel's minds, was never about embracing it wholeheartedly. It was precisely where Galadriel and Sauron's visions diverge. She knows it will never be the way. She knows she'd end up being a tyrant if she succombed to the temptation, and that's why she rejected it, and Sauron with it.

[ggukiepie]

one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)

we don't gotta be in love, no i don't wanna be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight ~ i wanna take your light inside dim me down, snuff me out ~ give me tough love leave me with nothin' when i come down

pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc

tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)

warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare

word count: 5.8k

a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.

You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.

jk: u busy tonight?

you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week

That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.

You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.

You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.

It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.

You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.

jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(

You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.

You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.

You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.

Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.

"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."

It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.

Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.

You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.

You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.

"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.

You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.

Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.

"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.

"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."

You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.

You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.

You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.

It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.

"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.

You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.

"Still," he reasons.

Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.

"We shouldn't," he whispers.

You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.

Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.

"Nope," you say sweetly.

"But Jungkook?"

You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."

Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.

"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.

"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.

"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.

You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.

"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.

"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.

You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.

It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.

"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."

"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.

"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.

"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.

"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.

The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.

You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.

jk: u up?

jk: hey reply to me :(

jk: coming over

Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.

You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.

"Hi," you mutter.

He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.

You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.

"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.

You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.

"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."

"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."

Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.

He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.

You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.

"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.

"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.

"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"

You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.

"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.

"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.

"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.

"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.

He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.

Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.

"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.

"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.

You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.

He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"

Us.

You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.

"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."

You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.

"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.

"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."

You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.

It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.

Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"

You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.

"Open," he says.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.

"Good girl. Now suck."

He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.

"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."

You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.

Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.

"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.

You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.

"Let me in then."

You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.

"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.

"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."

You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.

"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.

He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."

Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.

"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."

You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.

"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.

You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.

He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.

You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.

"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"

You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.

"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.

He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.

"Yes. Please."

Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.

"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.

"Please move, Kook."

You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.

"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.

"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"

"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.

"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."

You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.

He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.

Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.

"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.

Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.

You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.

"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.

But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.

[bellaxgiornata]

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Four|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 4.1k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

a/n: Saint Matthew strikes again in this fluffy-ish(?) chapter that has been my favorite to write so far. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz @loves0phelia @withasideofmeg @mattmurdock-wife24 @sarraa-26 @mylastarrival @mdanon027 @kmc1989 @abiisscared

“Dinner?”

“We'll see what we've got, cricket.”

The sound of voices in the hallway broke through Matt’s sleeping mind, pulling him back to consciousness. Groggily stirring on his couch, Matt tried to focus his senses around him as he rubbed a hand across his forehead. Waking from sleep always left him a bit disoriented, especially the rare times he allowed himself a short nap.

“Chicken nuggets?”

“You know I'm–I'm not too sure if we have any left, but we can look when we get inside.”

Pushing himself slowly upright on the couch with a hand, the leather groaned beneath his weight. As he continued to listen to the voices outside of his apartment, Matt quickly realized he was overhearing you and your daughter in the hallway. Leaning forward and resting his elbows along his thighs, he tilted his head towards the wall where the pair of you were now standing in front of your own apartment door.

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure we have something I can make for dinner tonight, Evie.”

A frown settled on Matt’s mouth, his tired eyes narrowing as he focused closer on your body out in the hall. It sounded sluggish, as if you were exhausted and low on energy, and if he concentrated really hard, he could hear the faint rumblings of your stomach. You were both hungry. And with the hesitant way you’d just responded to your daughter along with the burst of anxiety inside of you at your last statement, he’d begun to wonder how true it actually had been.

Shifting on the couch, Matt did what he’d told himself he wouldn’t continue to do. He focused on you as you made your way into your apartment. He found it odd how your young daughter didn’t seem to say much, even now when it was just the pair of you alone in your own place. Something about that unsettled him. A child so young shouldn’t constantly be so timid and quiet.

He heard you set something down on your kitchen counter–a purse most likely. He listened as you took four steps before you opened what sounded like your refrigerator door. There was a soft, quiet sigh that even he’d barely caught as you closed that door seconds later and opened the other. A few items faintly shifted around on the shelf as you clearly searched for something in your fridge. 

“Sorry, cricket, there’s no chicken nuggets. I’ll have to add them to the grocery list for this weekend. But I can make us peanut butter and jelly for dinner. How does that sound?”

“No bread.”

“Oh,” Matt heard you reply, your cheerful tone instantly shifting to something disheartened. “You’re right. I uhm, I guess we might need to–to make a trip to the store before dinner then. Maybe we can find something to make for tonight.”

Your heart rate had accelerated as you spoke, the sound piquing Matt’s curiosity. Why had you suddenly become so nervous at the prospect of going shopping? But then he heard you picking up the object you’d set on your counter, the soft noise of a zipper confirming that it had indeed been your purse. That’s when he understood–you were looking for your wallet. Probably to see what cash you had on you in order to find groceries for tonight. You were probably nervous because you knew how little you’d find to help you.

Eyes closing, Matt blew out a deep breath as he buried his face in his hands. So his suspicions had been correct, you were struggling financially. Even with being able to afford to feed your daughter. He felt sick to his stomach listening to your growing panic in the apartment across the hall in what was clearly a very vulnerable moment for you.

Desperately Matt wished he could head over to your place right now, knock on your door, and offer you that job that Foggy and Karen had agreed upon letting you have earlier this week. Except there was absolutely no way Matt could realistically do that without making you entirely uncomfortable and possibly scaring you further away from him. Because he’d barely ever spoken to you, there was no realistic reason that he should’ve known about the situation you’d found yourself in or for him to offer you a job. 

But he also couldn’t just sit here in his apartment and let you both continue to go hungry. 

Pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, he tried hard to think of how he could help you. Chewing the inside of his cheek, his mind ran over countless different ideas before it finally settled on one realistic one. Lowering his hands from his face, a small smile slipped onto his mouth. While he may not have had an excuse to go over to your place and offer you that part-time position just yet, there was something else he could do to immediately help the pair of you and possibly open the door to communication between you both.

Getting up from his couch, Matt began to make his way into the kitchen and over towards his fridge. Mentally he was already trying to prepare himself for what he would say to you when you opened the door for him because he needed to make this interaction count. He couldn’t afford to have you slam the door on his face–or worse, completely refuse to answer.

“Thank you, Mrs. Amato,” he whispered under his breath as he pulled a dish out of his fridge.

Pulling your wallet out of your purse, you tried to calm the sick feeling in your stomach. You already knew how much cash you had in there. A single twenty dollar bill. And that was all you had until you got paid again next Friday.

Plastering a smile onto your face, you glanced up at Evie. She was standing at the edge of the kitchen, the glaringly empty living room behind her only cementing your feelings of inadequacy. But now wasn’t the time for focusing on that–you needed to find a way to stretch twenty dollars and fast.

“Hey, how about you go put your backpack away in your room while I try to figure something out for dinner?” you suggested. 

Silently Evie turned and headed over to her bedroom. Pressing your lips together, you watched her until she disappeared from your sight. Once she had, you focused back down on the wallet in your hands, spotting the lone twenty dollar bill sitting in your otherwise empty wallet. Shoulders dropping in defeat, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it last all of next week now.

Two soft knocks came from the door behind you, the unexpected sound startling you so much that you dropped your wallet back inside of your purse. Your heart jumped into your throat just as Evie poked her head out of her bedroom, her eyes growing wide and terrified. Yet again you did your best to plaster a calm smile on your face, not wanting to worry her further. Because while you didn’t know who was at your door, and while you were almost positive it wasn’t your ex-fiance, your fear had still sky-rocketted at the sound. The fact that someone was here when you didn't expect company was enough to put you on edge.

“It’s alright, I got it, cricket,” you told her.

Mouth going dry, you stepped out of your kitchen and nervously made your way towards the door. You weren't sure who you’d find on the other side because it had barely been a week since you'd moved in. You'd intentionally gone out of your way not to speak to anyone in the building, so there was no reason someone should've been trying to visit you right now.

Placing both of your hands very carefully against the door, you leaned forward and peered through the peephole. Sucking in a sharp breath, you were shocked to see your neighbor standing in the hallway. The same man from across the hall who you just couldn’t seem to get away from this week. You were about to lock the deadbolt and tell him to leave until he shifted his weight on his feet and you caught sight of what looked like a glass dish covered in tinfoil in his hands.

Was he bringing you food? Because that was…odd. You were in the middle of New York City, why the hell would your neighbor be bringing you food? Even where you’d lived previously just outside of the city, no one had been that friendly. Had he somehow overheard you and Evelyn talking about dinner in the hall? But even then, as you replayed the short conversation in your mind, nothing you’d said had implied that you were both in need of anything.

You’d truly contemplated telling this man to go away as you stood there watching him through the peephole. It was strange that he kept randomly appearing around you this week. But as you stood there chewing your bottom lip, you knew that if he was bringing you food–for whatever reason that he was–you weren’t entirely in the position to turn it down. Because a stranger’s kindness, however unexplainable, would certainly help you make it to your next paycheck.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried hard to calm your nerves as you began to unlock your door. After all, he was only carrying a dish of food, not some sort of weapon, and when you’d very briefly encountered him on the roof a few nights ago he’d sounded friendly at least. Though there was still a part of you that internally screamed danger whenever you saw him, and you’d yet to put your finger on why.

Opening your door only halfway, your trembling right hand still gripping it in case you needed to slam it shut, you took in the sight of your neighbor. He was standing there in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a crumpled olive green tee-shirt–a vast difference from the nicer suit you’d first spotted him in at the beginning of the week. There was a bright smile on his face beneath the red-tinted glasses sitting atop his nose. Your eyes didn’t fail to miss the small cut along his chin behind his stubble though, your gaze lingering along it as you nervously licked your lips.

“Can I help you?” you asked after a moment.

“Hey, I’m your neighbor across the hall,” the man greeted, his voice like honey to your ears as he spoke. “6A?” 

One of his hands briefly released the bottom of the dish he was holding to gesture at the door behind himself. Your eyes followed the movement before coming back to land on the dish in his hands. It looked like a glass dish filled with lasagna and your stomach gave a faint rumble. Your hand nervously gripped your door tighter, hoping he hadn’t caught the sound as your attention returned to his smiling face.

“Hi,” you replied awkwardly. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” he continued, clearly unphased by the tone of your voice. “My name is Matthew Murdock. I’m a lawyer over at Nelson, Murdock, and Page. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of us before, but we're known for helping out many folks in the Hell’s Kitchen area.”

“I haven’t,” you stated simply.

The man’s smile wavered for the briefest of seconds, but it didn’t completely disappear from his face. It was true, though. You hadn’t been in the city long enough to have become familiar with much in it yet. While you’d been at Hope Haven, you’d been more focused on getting you and Evie set up to make a life in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t exactly have a need to go searching for lawyers–not unless Daniel found you. But even then, you weren’t sure there was a single lawyer that you could afford who could save you and Evelyn from him.

“Well, we often tend to do a lot of pro bono work for clients in the area who understandably can’t afford a lawyer,” he continued, almost as if he’d read your mind. “And they tend to show their appreciation for our help with meals and baked goods–and sometimes far too much fruit.” 

He chuckled good-naturedly as he held up the lasagna in his hands. Your eyes once more dropped down to the dish and you swore you could smell the delicious red sauce through the tinfoil. 

“I just thought I’d bring over some food to welcome you to the building,” Matthew continued. “I know with a big move sometimes it's hard to find the time to cook or even pick up groceries, so I thought this might help give you a little break this week.” His charming smile grew even wider, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes behind his red lenses. “But I’ll be honest and admit upfront that I did not make this lasagna, so I can't exactly take credit for it. One of our clients made it as a thank you for dealing with some issues with her landlord.”

You eyed Matthew curiously as he stood in the hallway just in front of your door, examining his friendly and charming smile beneath those red glasses. While there was a part of you that still felt an unexplainable sense of danger from him–the hair on your forearm having prickled beneath his unseeing gaze–there was a smaller part of you that felt his sincerity. After all, how often did you hear about lawyers who handled pro bono cases happily getting paid in lasagna and fruit? 

Still, you found him incredibly strange and you planned to remain on your guard with him. 

“And why exactly is it that you're giving away a lasagna to a neighbor you don’t even know?” you asked cautiously.

He shrugged lightly in response. “I certainly don’t need an entire lasagna for myself. I’m just one man, there’s only so much I can eat.” He paused, a soft, disarming chuckle falling past his lips again. “I’m still trying to make my way through the soup I was generously gifted the other day. But if I’m also being honest–”

He leaned forward towards you but the unexpected proximity had you startle backwards a step, your hand squeezing your door in response. Strangely it almost seemed like he’d hesitated, as if he’d somehow known you’d moved despite being unable to see you.

“I don’t want the food to go to waste and I’d much prefer to drop it by your place than over at Mrs. Henderson’s in 6C,” he finished conspiratorially. “She frightens me a little. Very big flirt, that one. Doesn’t matter if she’s in her late sixties and widowed.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly as he leaned away from you once more. Curiously you thought you saw him even shuffle a step backwards into the hallway.

“Right,” you said, uncertain how to respond to that.

“But I’m sure you’re busy this evening and I'd hate to take up any more of your time,” Matthew continued, extending the lasagna out towards you. “I was told the instructions to heat this up were on a post-it note on top, but considering that I can’t see it, I’m certainly hoping that’s true.”

You glanced down at the yellow post-it note on the tinfoil. It did in fact have the reheating instructions noted. But instead of reaching out and taking the dish from him, you awkwardly stood there, your right hand still firmly grasping your door. Matthew’s smile finally fell at your hesitation.

“I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable in any way. I can leave,” he said. “I was hoping this would be a friendly gesture. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know that if you ever needed something, I’m just across the hall.”

“Why?” you blurted.

His dark brows furrowed beneath his glasses, his head tilting just a bit to the side. “Why what?” he asked.

“Why’re you coming across the hall to welcome a neighbor to the building?” you questioned. “That seems quite uncharacteristic of someone in the city. At least, from the time I’ve been here so far. People are not generally this friendly unless they want something in return. And I'm not looking to owe anyone any favors.”

The charming smile returned to his mouth as he shrugged once more. “Maybe it’s my Catholic upbringing,” he told you, “but I prefer to be kind whenever the opportunity presents itself. But I assure you that I absolutely do not want anything in return. I promise.”

Your eyes dropped back down to the dish in his extended hands. You did, in fact, want to accept it, but you still felt uncomfortable at the idea of it. 

“I…don't really know what to say,” you awkwardly confessed. 

“You don't need to say anything at all,” he assured you.

Cautiously releasing the firm hold you had on your door, you slowly reached out and accepted the dish from his outstretched hands. You eyed him curiously as the smile on his face somehow grew wider when you did.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You're welcome,” he replied. “I hope you and your daughter enjoy it. And if you're a fan of baked goods, I know for a fact that we're receiving far too many peanut butter cookies on Monday. I'd be happy to drop some off because I certainly don't need them all.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, clutching the heavy glass dish in your hands, “that's alright. Really. We don't–”

You stopped short when something tugged at your dress slacks. Glancing down beside your leg you spotted Evie with one of her small fists curled around the dark fabric. She looked up at you and then over at your neighbor.

“Cookies?” she asked.

Matthew's head turned towards the sound of your daughter’s voice. The softening of his expression somehow almost completely eased that feeling of danger you often felt around him with the way he was now smiling down at Evie. He almost looked trustworthy. Safe.

Almost . Which made you even further suspicious of him.

“Hello there,” he greeted gently. “I'm–”

“Mr. Murdock,” Evie said. 

Shifting the heavy casserole dish over to your left arm and cradling it against your chest, your other hand landed protectively along her back and held her close to you. You were surprised she'd even come over and spoken to him because she usually disliked strangers and kept quiet. She must have sensed something else in him than you initially had.

“That’s right,” he said, still warmly smiling in her direction. “We're always getting sent so many baked goods. And it's up to your mother, but I could certainly bring you some cookies next Monday after work if you'd like?”

Evie's attention shifted to you, her wide hopeful eyes silently pleading with you. She didn't often get sweets anymore because they weren't a priority when you were budgeting groceries for the week, so you knew exactly what that look meant. She wanted you to accept the offer of cookies. But that also meant another inevitable interaction with your neighbor and this one was already one too many for your liking. 

But it was Evie and you’d do just about anything to make her happy.

With a sigh, you nodded at her before focusing back on Matthew. “If it's not too much trouble, I think Evie would like that,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“No trouble at all Ms….?”

Your lips pressed together for a moment, your initial instincts fighting you to give away your name and briefly causing you to hold your tongue. Though you had just given him Evie’s name and he already knew where you lived. What more harm was there if he knew your name, too?

Quietly you gave it to him, your stomach twisting into nervous knots. He repeated it softly, somehow the sound further calming you as he did. 

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, already taking a step backwards towards his door. “And I meant what I said. If you ever need anything, I'm just across the hall.”

A tight smile settled onto your lips even though you knew he couldn't see it as you nodded. “Thank you,” you replied, full well planning not to ask him for anything more. “I'll keep that in mind.”

You watched as he finally turned before you shut the door one-handed, the dish of lasagna still cradled against your chest. As weird as that whole interaction had been, at least you didn't have to worry about dinner for the next few nights. 

“I guess we're having lasagna tonight, cricket,” you said, carrying the dish over to your kitchen counter. “Sound good?”

Glancing over your shoulder at Evie, you saw the expression brighten her face. She nodded enthusiastically in response and the sight managed to put a smile on your own face.

Whoever that Mr. Murdock was, he'd at least put a smile on your daughter’s face tonight with his kindness.

“Mama!!”

Eyes flying wide open at the unexpected scream that ripped you from a dead sleep, you felt your heart nearly jolt out of your chest. By the time you heard your daughter shout for you a second time, you were already scrambling out of your blanket and rising to your feet.

“I'm coming, Evie!” you yelled back.

This was why you slept in front of your daughter’s door. Because it took you a matter of seconds to throw it wide open. 

Rushing inside her bedroom, you found Evie out of her sleeping bag and standing by the window across the room. You dropped down to your knees once you reached her, immediately beginning to inspect her with your hands for any sign of injury.

“What is it?” you asked her in a panic. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, your eyes drawn back up to her face. Despite her having shouted for you, she didn't look terrified. She appeared startled and a little surprised, but not scared.

“I saw him,” she told you.

Hands making their way back up to her shoulders, your brows furrowed at her words. “Who?” you asked her slowly. “You saw who?”

“The man,” she answered, turning at the waist and pointing to her window. “Outside.”

Your eyes flew to the window, scanning the rooftops beyond the fire escape outside of her room. There was nothing to see though. And with how bright the billboard across the street was, you would have been able to see if someone was there. 

This wasn't the first time this week Evie had told you she'd been seeing a masked man outside her window out on the rooftops. At first when she had told you about seeing someone, you'd let your fear take hold of you, worried it was somehow Daniel out there trying to torment you. But then when she hadn't been afraid of the man, you'd begun to worry that her fear of her father had led her to conjure up some masked imaginary figure that she kept seeing at nighttime when she was supposed to be asleep. 

“Cricket,” you said softly, your attention returning to her, “I've told you already. There's no masked man on the roof.” You reached a hand up, gently cupping her cheek. “Sweetheart, you're just dreaming. Okay? No one is out there. We're safe here, remember?”

“ He keeps us safe.”

Her strange comment gave you pause, your lips parting as you wondered what that even meant. Shaking your head a second later, you rose back up to your feet. At least this masked man wasn't giving her nightmares. 

“Let's get you back to bed, alright?” you suggested.

With a hand on her shoulder, you guided her across the room and back over to her sleeping bag. Despite being grateful that everything was alright after how terrified her screaming had made you, you really weren't a fan of her constantly waking at night because of this imaginary man. 

“He is real,” she whispered.

Expelling a soft sigh, you helped your daughter get back into her sleeping bag, tucking her in as you smiled down at her. If she wanted to believe some man on the roof was keeping you safe, you weren’t about to tell her that she was wrong.

“Alright, Evie,” you replied. “But it's late. You should get back to sleep. You can tell me all about it in the morning. Okay?”

You leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek before gently smoothing her hair. Telling her goodnight one more time, you got up and made your way back out of the room. But before you shut the door after yourself, you caught her quiet voice once more behind you. 

“He is real.”

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: swearing, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it y'all), use of "angel", sukuna is being sketchy, totally in love with choso, i think the choice is clear right A/N: sooooo slowly falling in love with choso, but things can't stay perfect forever right? (¬⤙¬ ) honestly I just really wanted to write more choso smut bc I'm addicted but like, wtf is up with sukuna now. ALSO someone asked how many chapters there will be, and as of right now I'm ending at 15! but if I get more ideas of the story doesn't feel wrapped up then I'll keep it going until it does.

index part eleven | part thirteen

part twelve word count : 2,146

your sleepover with Choso had not gone unnoticed by both Yuji and Sukuna. after finishing breakfast with Choso, you’d indulged in a long-awaited nap. when you woke up and found him still sound asleep, you thought it was the perfect time for a bathroom break. the only problem? Choso shared a bathroom with Sukuna. 

as you quietly closed Choso’s bedroom door with a soft click, a throat cleared, startling you like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. you slowly turned to see Sukuna standing in his doorway, a hand on the knob, his expression unreadable. 

“you’re… still in your pajamas.” he murmured, his tone a strange blend of question and statement. 

you weren’t sure why you felt anxious; after all, he’d been mia for god knows how long. as you tried to decipher his mood, you realized you were never good at picking up on his cues. 

if you had been, you might have braced yourself for the sudden, loud slam of his fist against the wall.

“shhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and silently hoping he hadn’t just woken Choso – let’s face it, the guy could probably sleep through anything.

“I think I might throw up.” Sukuna growled, storming toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. you stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what had just happened.

fortunately, Choso remained asleep when you tiptoed back into his room. you decided it was a good idea to wait until he was awake before leaving his room again. 

after that, Sukuna had literally vanished from the house.

two days later, he still hadn’t come home. two days later, and you hadn’t slept in Choso’s room again. two days later… and you were falling in love.

Choso had thrown himself into being attentive, practically anticipating your every need. want a snack? he was off the couch before you could even think about it. feet sore from a night out with Yuji? he’d whisk your shoes off and start rubbing your feet right away. it was like he was made for this; providing you with attention and care without missing a beat. 

now, you lay on his bed while he played with your hair, one hand gently stroking your head and the other flipping through tv channels. you were practically purring with every soft caress, and he adored it. 

“can I ask you something?” Choso suddenly said, his hand still massaging your scalp. you nodded lightly, keeping your eyes closed in bliss. “you haven’t stayed in my room since that night. is it because I did something wrong?”

your eyes flew open as you sat up, your expression softening at the sight of his blush. “oh, Choso, no – you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… thought it might be weird for everyone else if I stayed in here all the time.” and secretly you worried about what would happen if Sukuna saw you leaving again.

“who cares what they think?” Choso pouted, giving you those puppy-dog eyes while his hand relaxed on the back of his head. “do you want to sleep in here?”

you hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the invitation. “I mean… I’d love to.” you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face. “but what if you get sick of me?”

Choso shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “like I could get sick of you. unless you drool on my pillow again, then yeah I might get a lil sick of you.”

you slapped his arm while your mouth dropped open. “it was the one time! we’d just pulled an all-nighter!” he threw his head back in laughter, the sound like music to your ears. “if I promise not to drool, do you want me to stay in here tonight?” 

“tonight it is!” he said with a grin, relief evident in his face. he shifted to make space for you, and you settled in beside him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

as you lay there, the soft hum of the tv in the background as the two of you watched netflix, you found yourself stealing glances at Choso. his brows furrowed in concentration as he watched Bridgerton (you’d gotten him hooked), and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked.

if he had noticed you staring, he didn’t show it, but when he reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers you felt a thrill shoot through you. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the tv, although you could feel his body warm at the contact with yours. you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat start to pick up.

“are you getting comfortable?” Choso asked as his hand returned to stroke your hair, lulling you into a blissful state.

“mhm.” you purred as he gave light scratches to your scalp, tracing down your back softly. “but I want to watch Anthony confess to Kate, so I’m not falling asleep just yet.”

“the tension between them has been physically unbearable to watch all season.” Choso groaned and you chuckled at his enthusiasm. when he caught you laughing at him, he pinched your shoulder in retaliation. “I’m just saying, they both have been drooling over each other every episode!”

“you can’t blame them, it can be hard to confess your feelings to someone.” when you realized your words might seem like a jab at him, you quickly continued. “at least in their situation, he’s courting her sister.”

“at least you don’t have a sister I have to get through.” Choso smirked down at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “even though it did take me too long to confess.”

the two of you had watched two more episodes, both commenting back and forth about the Bridgerton drama. everything felt right in your world – Choso was softly giving you affectionate touches, you’d gotten him addicted to rom-com tv, and you were blissfully happy. 

“Choso?” you whispered, nuzzling into his shirt. he hummed in response as he set his chin on top of your hair. “how soon is too soon?”

his heartbeat picked up faster under your ear. if you’d been looking at him, you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink immediately. “for what?” he asked.

it was all too easy to get him flustered, and the thrill of it drove you mad. your hand caressed his abdomen, traveling lower and lower, slowly aiming for his waistband. once your fingers danced along the edge of his sweatpants, you felt him tense.

“oh.” Choso breathed, body going rigid as you continued to dip your fingers just below the waistline. “I-I don’t think there’s such a thing as too soon.”

“hm, you don’t?” you teased lightly before lifting your chin to gaze up at him. sure enough, his face was hot and red as he stared back down at you. “do you wanna…”

“yes.” his answer came out as fast as lightning, before he grabbed your chin and pulled you up to kiss you. when his lips met yours, you immediately open your mouth to allow his tongue to spit-swap with yours. Choso groaned as your hand dipped fully underneath his pants to palm his growing erection under his boxers. 

only seconds into teasingly rubbing him and he had flipped you over to land on top of you, grinding his clothed dick into your hips as he panted into your mouth. Choso’s hands worked their way up your top, pulling your bra down to rest underneath your tits and groping at them.

“fuck, I just can’t get enough of you.” Choso groaned as he dipped his head into your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as you arched your back to meet his rolling thrusts. “wan’ t’ make you feel good.”

within a mere minute, Choso removed all of your clothing as well as your own. you’d been too embarrassed to really look at his dick the first time, worried about your own image, but now – you felt warmth pooling between your legs at the sight. his bright pink tip leaked pre-cum already as he pumped himself with one hand, prepping himself before he settled between your legs.

Choso teased your puffy lips with his head, dragging his leaky cock over your clit tantalizingly as he leaned down to capture your already open mouth in his. as he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue inside you, his dick pressed further into you while just the tip has you moaning out his name.

“oh fuck, Cho, you – you’re so big.” you whined as your eyes rolled back, expanding for him as he ventures deeper inside of you. 

just those words have Choso bottoming out with a quick thrust, his balls slapping against your ass just as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “ohhhh shit, angel.” his hips thrust again, giving you every inch. “feel s’ fucking good.”

your mind was already a puddle of mush as he drove into you, every pull and push of his cock driving you to madness. when Choso's hand flattens over your lower abdomen, pushing down slightly, you feel your walls tighten where he was pressing to accentuate every bit of his veiny length. 

Choso fingers moved to press against your clit, making small and absolutely maddening circles that made you whimper. his fingers applied more pressure, eliciting a loud moan of his name from your lips and causing your legs to clench around his hips. his pace picked up faster and faster, until he was gasping for air while he watched you blissed out below him, the sight almost sending him over the edge immediately. 

“yes – hah – please right there.” you’re drooling already, your fingers weaving through Choso’s hair as his eyes fall shut with pleasure. his bicep twitches next to your head, fist gripping the sheets as he uses every ounce of his strength to fuck you just right and rub your clit at the same time. you can feel the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, Choso’s struggles to plow through your tightening walls with his thrusts. 

“that’s it, angel, just like that.” Choso babbles through the pleasure coursing within him, and when you drive your hips to meet his every thrust he just about loses it. “fuck – wait wait – slow down I’m –“

before he can finish his sentence, your orgasm rips through you, electricity thrumming down your veins. your back arches so deeply into the mattress as your pussy contracts around his cock. you’re too high to even form the words to tell him you’re coming, but based on how Choso starts rutting into you, he can feel it.

“ohh – fuck – please. you’re so fuckin’ tight I’m gonna cum.” Choso whines, eyes scrunching shut as his hips become sporadic in his attempt to find his last bit of strength to work you through your orgasm. 

you’ve barely begun to come down before he’s bottoming out, his dick pulsing before shooting your pussy full with streaks of thick cum. you can hear the lewd squelches coming from your cunt as he lazily fucks into you through his orgasm, stuffing you to the brim with every ounce of his seed.  

“shit Choso.” you moan as his forehead settles on yours, sweat slick on both of them. you panted as you looked at him, his eyes fucked out as he settled slowly from his release. 

“wanna hear something really stupid?” Choso whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“wh-what?” you stammered, your heart racing.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m beginning to think I’m addicted to you.” he confessed, a shy smile spreading across his face.

you felt a flutter in your chest, caught off guard. “addicted?” you echoed, a mix of surprise and amusement flooding through you.

“yeah.” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I can’t help it. you’re just… so fucking perfect.” his fingers brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

“so, you’re not going to get sick of me then?” you teased, and Choso swore that as your laughter followed he could feel your pussy walls flutter around his softening cock. 

“don’t get cocky just yet, angel.” Choso hummed in amusement before dipping his fingers between your bodies. “that’s still yet to be seen.”

as you were giggling, your breath suddenly hitched when Choso fingers pinched your sensitive clit. your eyes sparked as you looked at him, a wicked smirk spread across his lips when he began to rub circles around the nub. with one more pinch, he leaned his face down to whisper in your ear.

“might just have to keep testing it.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that nineteen people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .