#exposing my book taste in this post

[spookysplatt]

Hi I'm Splat and my talent is that I can physically hear anything in Ricky Potts or Jack Kelly's voices

Pros: funny

Cons: sometimes it just happens when I'm reading and I have to deal with Jeremy Jordan as blablablabrooklynaccent Arthur Dent and Alex Wyse as whimsical nerdy Zaphod Beeblebrox

[writterings]

the thing they don't tell you about most mlm romance books is that they fucking suck ass

[bindeds]

[ BITE ME. ] : 1k words » LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — lucifer sees you reading dracula by bram stoker and apparently he thinks it’s one of the best things that came out of giving humans free will. so he indulges in it.

#tags. biting (obviously), vampire teeth, replication of the seductive nature of vampires, suggestive, blood sucking, blood, explicit consent

a/n. thank you so much for 100 followers! i was supposed to disclose what i wanted to do for 100 followers but i promise i pack a lot of punches! stay tuned for that post bc i will be doing a LOT of things for you personally!

mlist. request something! :>

You were completely and utterly trapped in the jaws that belonged to Lucifer Morningstar as he lifted your chin. His eyes dropped to half-mast as your neck had been exposed to him, the clean skin glowed under the odd lighting of the hotel.

“What’s that you’re reading, honey?”

It’s an amazing thing, whatever it is he’s doing to you right now. Forget the heat rising to your cheeks. Forget that you’d complied to the fact that your neck is very vulnerable in the current state he held you in; your delightful book had still been sitting open and comfortable in your lap with your hand still holding onto either side so as not to lose where you left off. And Lucifer …

Well, he kneeled before you on the bed you shared with him, but he most certainly kept that small distance from your book instead of putting it away.

He leaned back a little, and you get a good view of his striped waistcoat and the way it curved around his … well endowed chest.

He grinned. “Dracula. I like that about you.”

“Dracula?” You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “You like Dracula about me?”

“Oh but you must know that’s no laughing matter. Dracula … is one of the best things humans have ever done with their free will. Don’t even talk to me about vampires …”

Your breath hitched. His thumb froze where it hovered over your bottom lip.

“Vampires …” he repeated in a mutter, as if to think aloud.

You scrambled to hold up the book where you could see it, seeing as Lucifer still had your jaw held high and to the side. But the way you could barely keep the book from spilling from your hands had been more than enough to give you away. Fuck, in this pathetic state, you should have been the one kneeling.

Lucifer hovered just below your jaw. His lips parted, and you shut your eyes to embrace the sensory input of his touch completely; his breath fanned and spread across your skin like casting a thick fog over an abandoned island.

“Do you want to be bitten, my love?” His lips gave the faintest flicks against your skin as he spoke. “To be tasted?”

“Maybe,” you said, and it was nearly a sigh when the way he held you was a vice. Your blood vessels ached to be invaded, to be cut off course.

“Hmmm?” He dragged out the syllable like the tease he was. Then two ends like daggers poked you, threatening to tear through your surface.

They relented soon enough, gliding down instead of sinking into your skin. Your muscles blew ice cold at the lack of a threat.

“What about now?” Your name reverberated deep in his throat, the sound caressed your ear like the sweet thing you were in Lucifer’s hands.

You knew for a fact that this couldn’t have been real. Either that, or Lucifer had reformed his teeth just for this moment, in which case, the more you thought about it the more it didn’t seem all that surprising, the way he would do anything to get you flustered.

He pressed damp kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I could do this aaall day, my doll,” Lucifer hummed lightly. He finally let your chin fall to its natural position, only for your eyes to fall on him. His face.

His teeth.

Sure enough, they had turned a completely straight row from cheek to cheek except for the two pointed canines—they were the only teeth that shone in the light.

“Luci …” you sighed, releasing a breath like it was a prayer.

And Lucifer was listening.

He drew closer to you, his lips inches from your own.

“Your fantasies are mine to fulfill,” Lucifer soothed, his hypnotic voice slithering to your head and plucking every coherent thought you had left. “Anything is yours for the asking, you just name it.”

“Please, bite me,” you found yourself pleading softly. You bit your lip, averting your gaze. That was sudden, even for you; your tongue flicked faster than your brain could react. “I—I need you to bite me.”

“Good girl,” Lucifer beamed as his grin returned to him, and he wasted no time as he ducked down to your neck and planted chaste kisses in a concentrated spot where your jugular sat with anticipation.

You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and his hand instinctively supported the side you tilted on. You allowed yourself to rest in the warmth as your shoulders eased up.

“This is going to hurt, but only for a split second,” Lucifer warned in a deep voice. “Then, I will give you nothing but pleasure.”

You gritted your teeth as lightning struck your neck and your hand tightened on his wrist. He stroked his thumb up and down your cheek, and it did well in easing the pain before the dam of rigid pain gave in and pleasure took its place—took all the places.

His tongue lapped at the wound, teeth still anchored in your neck as you felt a bit of yourself, your cells, blood, muscle strength seep out of you steadily. Your head began to spin, but your limbs fell weak at the sensation that had you on the precipice of something you couldn’t name.

Then, his teeth slipped out of your flesh as his tongue took care of the rest—the forked edges covering more ground as if to seal the wound.

“How was that?” Lucifer pulled back immediately, a bright smile incorporated his face as thin trails of blood dripped down to his chin.

Your head had still been knocking against the edges of your skull, but you managed a smile and maybe a bit of a lightheaded chuckle nonetheless. When you readjusted your legs on the bed, trouble swiped cold between your thighs. Oh, well. What were you expecting?

“Kiss me,” you said.

“Sorry?” He asked. “Honey, there’s still blood on my HMMPH—”

You engulfed him in a kiss as you pulled him by the neck and fell back against the bed. He tried to stabilize himself but it didn’t even take another minute more before both of your clothes were as good as trash on the floor.

[onlystylesangels]

Silent Struggles

Anon: I might have a request … :) so what if harry found fem!Y/N’s pack of cigarettes and he didn’t know she smoked bc she never mentioned anything and he talks to her bc he’s concerned?/ Anon: H's girl seems to be acting off and he confronts her and it turns out she's been dealing with some depression and anxiety and she's been to scared to let anyone in or... reader seems to be going through something and hasn't told anyone about it and starts smoking cigarettes; dealing with her problems alone.

Warnings!!!: talks about anxiety, talks about depression, smoking, fluff, Harry being a supportive boyfriend, reader feeling insecure

A/N: Hello!!!! I know it's been a very long time since I have posted a new Harry writing. But here it is, lovies! I hope you enjoy this one. !!!***Before you read I want to start by saying that you are loved and you're precious to this world. I love you, yeah, you the lovely person that's reading this. I care about you and there are so many people around you that care for you too. Please if you're going through something, don't fight alone. Please tell someone what you're going through. Please be safe. -A <3

It happened as always. At night you would wake up from a nightmare, open the drawer from your nightstand and rummage for your new pack of cigarettes, the plastic wrapper still intact. You took two cigarettes out and grabbed your lighter. You walk into the balcony and start the fire. You inhale a sharp breath and let out the hollowing contents of nicotine. It felt nice. Feeling the nightly fresh air hit your exposed arms, goosebumps adorning your skin as you puff out smoke from your mouth. It happened as always, as a freshly new night routine. 

The next morning you woke up with the bitter taste of nicotine filling your senses and feeling a bit dizzy when you sat up from bed. You quickly grab your phone and look at the time. It was already 9am and you were positive that you were going to be running late to the local bookstore. 

So, you take a shower and put on clothes that may or may not have matched together to create a decent outfit, but fuck it. You were about to be late so you had to work with what you had. You quickly dashed to the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast and made sure to message Harry. 

“Hi bubba! I’m heading out to work. I’ll see you later today, okay? Love you.”

“Sounds good, love. I love you too. Make sure to drink enough water!” 

Harry, always the caring type. You loved that about him. Having a person loving you for you and always making sure that you were doing okay was one of the blessings that you took for granted. If only it were that easy to show that same love to yourself.   

“Richie! Did you get a chance to call Davy? His favorite book just came in and he had first dibs on the book” You shout out to your coworker who always seems to be too busy to work as he is sitting at the back corner of the bookstore, scrolling through his phone. Pesky phones, fucking culprits of rotting out your brain.  

“Haven’t gotten a chance, Y/N. Why don’t you call ‘em?” Richie sends you a head nod and immediately looks down at his phone. Fucking twat.

You roll your eyes and walk towards the front desk and call Davy. But before you start pushing down the buttons on the phone you see someone come in.

“Hey Y/N! Has that book come in here yet?” The man of the hour. Davy, the active reader and loyal customer of the Blues Blues Bookstore. 

“Hey there, Davy. I was literally just about to call you. I got that book reserved here for you. Hold on.” 

You walk towards the back of the store and retrieve the book that had a bookmark with his name plastered on it. You walk towards the entrance and hand it to him. He quickly takes the book in his hands and begins turning the pages. 

“I love it! Thank you again, Y/N! Glad I got here as quickly as possible.” 

You turn towards the computer and begin typing away, clearing the book for Davy.

“My pleasure, Davy. Just make sure to always come back. You’re keeping us in business, remember?” You joke, making Davy laugh and giving you an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah. I recommended some people to come by to the store. Not sure if they found their way in yet.”   

“Haven’t seen any new faces lately. I would ask Richie, but that twat doesn’t do anything here, so I guess no new customers.”

“Hmm, you should bring that up to Daya. I’m sure she’ll fire the guy.”

Firing Richie, tsk, that guy is literally family to Daya. Even if you tell her that Richie doesn’t do anything in the store she’ll find a way to defend him and tell you off. There is no way that you would ever start a conversation regarding firing Richie to Daya; she’ll never believe or listen to you. 

“We’ll see.” Is all you say as Davy puts his new book in his satchel.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Davy says as he starts walking towards the doors. “Oh, and tell that boyfriend of yours hi. I haven’t seen that English man in a while.” 

You smile at the thought of him bringing up Harry. 

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll tell him you said hi. See you Davy.” You wave goodbye to him as he does the same. 

During your break time you try to sneak in some time to smoke a cigarette and make sure that the door you come out from is shut tightly. You feel dumb for hiding your recent cigarette intake from people, but then again, people see you as the nicest and innocent person on earth. Yeah, sure. But you kept thinking about the deadline. Your personal deadline that you set yourself to meet someone at the law college that you have been researching on. 

For a couple of months now you’ve been thinking about applying to a local law college in your city and were afraid to continue the process. You continuously had non-pep talks about how you would be a terrible law student and that you may not make it to getting accepted into the college. This and telling anyone about it was just too much for you to handle. You didn't even tell Harry yet. You knew why you didn’t want to tell anyone; you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. Problems that you knew were affecting you mentally and emotionally. 

= = = 

After the break you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your mind. The mere thought of reaching out to the law school representatives and going to that mandatory interview to see if you were worth being a candidate for their college was already too much to think about. And so you continue your work in the bookstore. Putting new books up on the shelves and welcoming customers into the bookstore. Parents accompanied with their children as you reach for the candy jar under the front desk to offer to the children. You liked your job at the bookstore, but you felt like you needed a change of scenery, especially after working there for four years. And the thought of leaving this job and trying something new frightened you.

A couple of minutes before you were off. There was a ding heard at the entryway.

“Sorry, we’re closed. You can come by tomorrow at-” You look up from the front desk and notice that it’s Harry. Carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hair started to grow from the buzz cut he got months ago. Gray trousers and loose fitting t-shirt that was starting to rip at the neckline. You told him to throw that shirt away but he always replied by saying that it was his lucky shirt. Did you believe him? Of course not, but if he claims it is his lucky shirt then it’s his lucky shirt.

“Harry!” You run towards him ignoring the stack of books that were in front of you that needed price tags. 

Harry smiles and hugs you back as he kisses your cheek. “Hi, my love.” You walk back a bit and finally take notice of the bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

“And these?” 

“Oh, I got ‘em for Richie. You know that marvelous coworker of yours,” He lies through his teeth, your eyes rolling at the mention of his name. He notices your change of mood and lifts your chin with his thumb. “Hey, lovie. I’m joking. These are for you. I saw them at the local flower shop and thought that you would like ‘em.” Your lips start curving into a smile and you give him a kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, Harry,” you smell the flowers and softly touch the flower petals, “They’re gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome, my love.” Harry follows you as you go towards the backroom. Retrieving your things and ready to call it a day at the bookstore. 

“Ready?” Harry asks you. You smile in response and immediately grab his hand as he leads you both to the exit. You lock the doors to the bookstore and leave walking hand-in-hand with Harry.

You reach your apartment and unlock the door to your little home. You walk in along with Harry and make your way to the sink and grab a vase under the sink cabinet. Harry watches you as you fill the vase with water and stick the flowers in it; he admires your acts and just leans his weight on the kitchen island and stares at you as if you were this beautiful undiscovered galaxy. 

You catch him staring and you get shy all of a sudden. You get a bit self-conscious, but then that feeling goes away when Harry walks towards you and cups your cheeks. 

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” You feel your cheeks get hot and you quickly turn your head away from his gaze; not even hiding the smile that you had. Harry chuckles and swiftly turns your head back to his gaze. “Don’t hide from me, love. It’s just me.” Harry teases, the back of his hand smoothly running down your cheek. 

“You make me nervous, Harry.” You confess, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you making me shy.” 

Harry picks you up and walks towards the couch. He keeps you on his lap as you continue hiding away from him. You both have been dating for over a year and so you must’ve at least gotten used to all those times that Harry gets you all flustered, but you haven’t yet. It’s like falling in love with him for the first time. That’s how you feel right now. Your body is so close to his and his arms wrapped around your body as he just holds you. Appreciating your presence; he held you in strong arms as if he was afraid to let you go. And he was.

For the rest of the evening you both order takeout from two different restaurants because you were craving two of your favorite foods. Harry happily ordered from the two restaurants as he left you in an excited mess. Excited that you were finally going to eat those foods that you craved for so long. The food doesn’t take long for it to arrive at the apartment and so you and Harry eat on the couch and watch some movies to pass the time. You both joke around about the characters from the movie that you were both watching and made the night pleasant. 

As the night went along, you were laughing along with Harry and enjoying being in each other’s company. You wished you could be there on the couch all night, but you were starting to yawn and your eyes starting to droop from how sleepy you were. Harry noticed and turns off the tv and grabs your hand and leads you both to your bedroom. He lets you go into the bathroom first to start your night routine as he lies down on the bed scrolling on his phone. 

You walk out the bathroom and stand over the bed and lean down to meet Harry’s eyes. He plops his phone down on his stomach and you take this opportunity to kiss his pink lips. 

“Mm, I don’t want to shower anymore.” He whines in between kisses. You chuckle and grab both of his hands and try your best to lift your boyfriend up from the bed. Jeez, you weren’t an active gym-rat, but from just lifting up his body you felt like you did a whole workout.

“Damn, Harry.” You swipe a hand over your forehead. Harry laughed in response. 

“My bones are heavy, love.” He simply responds as he walks towards your dresser and opens up his designated drawer that has some of his clothes in it. “Be right back, lovie.” He looks behind him and sees you starting to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. 

“Don’t take too long.” You respond

“I’ll try not to.” He walks to the bathroom with a new pair of clothes hanging on his shoulder. He leaves the door open; the showerhead turning on.

A couple of minutes pass and Harry walks back into the bedroom; drying his hair as best as he could. It was easier for him to dry it now that it was shorter. You lift up the bed covers inviting him inside the warm cocoon. You both lie together, Harry spooned you from behind and as you brought one his arms up to your chest. You both fall asleep into a quiet slumber. 

But you wake up after a couple of hours. You didn’t even bother to check the time as you opened your eyes and slowly removed Harry’s arm from hugging your body. You sit up and walk towards your bedside drawer; already knowing your nightly routine. You grab the pack of cigarettes that were hidden under some of your favorite books and miscellaneous items that you kept forgetting to get rid of. You also get a lighter that was stashed inside your purse and go outside to the balcony.

The butt of the cigarette blazes to life as you take a breath in of the substance and slowly let a breath out. Your thoughts once again start to disappear with every intake of breath you take. It numbed them, made them disappear, but only temporarily. You knew that smoking was making your lungs get sore and your nose wrinkling still not getting used to the smell of the smoke, but you didn’t care at that moment. It numbed everything, it numbed your problems and it made everything feel-- better.

As you continued puffing out air of smoke you continued looking up at the sky, stars aligning the horizon randomly. With each puff of smoke you felt the anxiety slowly go away. You were almost down to the brim of the cigarette, so you could comfortably go back to sleep. Once you were about to inhale one last breath of nicotine you heard footsteps making its way towards the balcony. You freeze and hold the cigarette in your  fingers, bringing your hand to your side. 

“Y/n?” Harry says as he rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes. “What are you doing out here, it’s la-” He stops himself once he notices what’s in your hand. He looked confused, he didn’t know you smoked. 

“Harry.” You reply. The cigarette is still in between your fingers, burning away. 

“I- I didn’t know you smoke.” Harry begins slowly walking towards you, concern sketched in his eyes.

You look down at the cigarette that continues to burn away and you feel tears start welling up in your eyes. You bring the cigarette up in front of you and stomp it on the floor, watching as the smoke starts consuming your nose. Regret. Regret is what you were feeling as you turned to Harry’s presence, his demeanor causing you to feel like a deer in front of headlights. You’re sorry. Sorry that you never told him that you picked up smoking because of not having anything else to control your anxiety. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Harry runs to you and embraces you with all his might. “Oh love. Come here.” You snuggled into his embrace and began crying. You held onto his arms so tightly that you were clutching onto him afraid of him letting go. Letting you go.

“I was scared. I just wanted to help… myself.” You mutter.

Harry held you as he ran his hands down your back. He would occasionally massage your head. “I promise you baby, I am going to be here for as long as you want me to, then you can let me in and help you.” He held onto you tightly and he kissed the side of your face. Harry let you cry on his chest as he rubbed your back soothingly, trying best to comfort you.

“I just felt alone.”  

Harry steps back a bit and looks you in the face, concern written all over his green irises. He held your hand in his and met your eyes filled with tears.“You have me, darlin’.” Harry said, his fingers lightly brushing away the stranded tear on your cheek. “I’m right here, Y/N.” He reassures you. Bringing you close to his body again.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m sorry.” You let out, Harry cupping your cheeks trying to calm your nerves. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You have nothin’ to apologize for, lovie.” He looks at your bloodshot eyes. Seeing you sad like this he felt broken. Broken that he didn’t know how to make you feel better, broken because he hated seeing you without a smile on your face. Broken that he wasn’t aware that you were hurting. “Is it okay if I ask what’s going on?” He said with a soft voice. 

“I– I just been sad and overthinking, okay.” You let out, your hands coming up to cover your face. You felt ashamed, as if a parent just witnessed the most disappointing act from their child. You hated feeling insecure in your own skin; you felt worse that it was Harry that was looking down at you with concern in his eyes and his body weight shifting to softly take your hands in his and seeing your face. 

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby, you’re scaring me. What are you sad about,” Harry steps back a bit giving you room to speak and mostly giving himself self-control from forcing you to share what’s been making you sad. “Baby, I’m right here, okay. It’s just me.” 

You slowly turn your head away from his gaze and look at the sky. Your hands no longer covering your flushed face, but now twiddling with your shirt, Harry’s shirt. You feel bad that you now created droplets of tears on the collar of his favorite shirt. 

“I just have been dealing with a lot of negative thoughts and I just… sniffle… I didn’t want you to worry about me.” Your hands constantly were moving from your face down to your shirt. Harry catches your little antics and walks towards you, slowly, making sure that he has a good distance between you two before he starts again.

“Y/N. I had no idea that you were going through something. I had the feeling that you were acting a bit different, but never thought that something was affecting you,” He waits for your permission to come in closer and so he takes no time and has his hands cupping your cheeks. Tears staining your beautiful cheeks that he so dearly loved taking his time in kissing and feeling your soft skin against his ring-clad fingers. “I wished I knew you were going through something.” He confessed, sensing a feeling of regret that he felt for not seeing the signs of you feeling depressed and not being your energetic-self. Now as he looks back, he noticed your change of behavior. Being a bit more reserved, but still communicating with him which led him not sensing a shift of you. 

 “You always told me that it was your period messin’ with ya mood. I was so stupid to believe that. Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” 

It’s true. You shared to him that the past couple of months when he would suggest going out to shopping outlets and going out for dinner you would simply reply that you weren’t in the mood to go out in public. That your period was getting the best of you and drained your energy. It was true that you had bad days when you were on your period, but you made him believe that it was your menstrual cycle being the culprit of you feeling drained. 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You cried out, his hands holding your head as he hugged your frame and landed kisses on your head. 

“It’s okay. I know now that you haven’t been feeling good. Jus’ let me help you, yeah?” Harry looks down at you, your eyes bloodshot as a soft smile creeps up on Harry’s lips. You follow suit and slowly mimic a smile back. 

Harry leads you back to the bedroom and lets you sit on the edge of the bed. “‘M going to start a bath for you. Is that okay?” 

You nod in agreement and he starts turning on the bath faucet, making sure that the water is warm enough to calm your body and hopefully make you feel a bit better. As he is sure that the water is at the right temperature he comes back to the bedroom where you are still sitting on the bed. He kneels in front of you and looks up at you, his hands running up and down your arms gently. 

“The water is almost ready for ya. I’m gonna get those bath bombs you like so much and light up some candles.” He says, reaching towards your head and landing a kiss on your forehead. You softly smile at his action and continue looking at his beautiful eyes that you could never get tired of looking at. 

He goes back to the bathroom and takes a blueberry muffin scented bath bomb and throws it inside the bathtub as he watches the water fizzle and quickly change into a dark blue hue. He then lights up a couple of candles and sets them on the sink cabinet.

He comes back to the bedroom and Harry motions for you to stand up and you do and follow behind him making your way to the bathroom. He’s about to leave you alone in the bathroom for you to get undressed, giving you privacy.

You quickly reach towards his hand and he stops from walking out the bathroom. He looks back at you waiting for you to say something. 

“Stay, please.” You mutter softly. His hand slowly intertwines with yours as he shuts the door behind him and walks towards you. Nodding in agreement as he follows suit and starts undressing. You motion for him to help you unclasp your bra and he quickly does it with ease. 

You step into the warm water and instantly feel the water relieving your tired muscles. You didn’t even realize how tense your muscles were. Harry then follows you and lands both feet on the warm bathtub. He lies down first and motions for you to lie down against his chest. You carefully situate your body close to his and feel his thick thighs wrap around your own legs, his arms wrapping around your mid area. Your breasts touching his forearms. Your skin sinking into the warm embrace of the scented water as you shiver, goosebumps trailing on your skin yet again from the cool air coming from the bathroom. Harry cups his hands into the water and brings it up to splash water on your chest and remaining skin that has yet to make contact with the warm water. You smile from his gentle mannerisms as you lean back into his chest, your head cradling on top of his chest. You look up at him as he smiles down at you, dimples on full display. 

Harry kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes and smile in response. His soft touches always make you feel relaxed.

“You want to talk ‘bout it?” Harry asked, his hands making small circles on your belly.  

“No. But I need to talk about it,” You reply, holding onto his free hand that’s holding onto the tub. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I have been thinking about going back to school. Law school.” You confess, playing with Harry’s fingers and tracing his knuckles.

“That’s exciting, love. I’m happy that you’re thinking about going back to school.” He soothes your belly some more. 

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze. “Yeah, but I know how much you want to move in together. I want to move in together too, but law school isn’t cheap.” 

“We’ll figure it out together. I can always pick up extra shifts at the tattoo parlor and maybe sell some of my songs on the side.” Harry assures you. 

“But, I don’t want you working too hard for my sake. That’s one of the reasons why I was afraid to tell you this.” You turn your attention back to Harry’s freehand and continue tracing his knuckles. 

Harry catches this and softly tilts your head so he could see your eyes. “Hey, lovie. We’re in this together. If you have dreams of your own I will stand by you and help you achieve those dreams. We’re a team, yeah?” 

You smile up at him. Tears slowly start to blur your vision. You have always been like this. When new problems would arise you would shut-off, you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you were going through and it was hard for you to ask for help. You were that friend that always told people to reach out to you if they were going through something, but that’s the exact thing that you don’t do. Leaving yourself to fend for yourself; self-sabotaging yourself. 

You look away and land your hands on your knees, feeling tears starting to slide down your cheeks again. “I feel like such a loser. Why is this small thing bothering me so much?” You quietly say. 

Harry shifts his body just enough so he could see the state that you’re in. He moves a couple of your wet strands away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Hey, don’t call yourself that. You’re not a loser. You’re my beautiful girlfriend who's the strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

Pfft. “Strong?” You repeat, feeling an urge of disgust with yourself. 

“Hey, whatever you’re feeling, we’ll get through it together. You’re strong for sharing what you’re going through.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Harry.” You turn your head and stare at his eyes. Wanting to feel his lips against yours.

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses your shoulder and notices how your gaze looks at his lips. He meets your eyes and leans close to kiss your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours, feeling his body heat. Your arms run down his tattooed arm and leave his lips wishing for more as you start kissing his swallows on his chest. 

He brings your face close to his. “We’ll do this together, lovie. I promise.” He says through kisses, kissing every crevice of your face, making you smile from his facial hair tickling your skin. 

As you two finish up bathing and drying your bodies and changing into clean clothes; you started to feel better. You weren’t sure if it was because you finally told Harry what you were going through, or if it was because you had Harry with you being that only person to see you at your lowest and comforting you. You didn’t know, but you felt good.

You both get ready for bed. Harry finishes brushing his teeth and putting a serum on his face that you recommended him to try. You lay down on the bed waiting for Harry to walk into the bedroom. He discards his shirt and throws it somewhere in the bedroom. Thinking about that in the morning he’s going to be looking for that garment all morning. The thought of it makes you smile. 

Harry walks to the bed and lies down. He motions you to climb on him and you do as you carefully situate one of your legs to be between one his legs. You look at him to check if he looks comfortable.

“Is this okay?” You asked, he nods and slides a hand under your shirt, his hand running up and down your back. He kisses the crook of your neck. You lie your head on his chest and hear his heart beating in a steady rhythm. With the thumping of Harry’s heart you begin drifting off into sleep. 

“Goodnight, lovie.” Harry whispers to you. But you were already out. Harry takes it as a clue that you have already called it a night when you didn’t respond back. He smiles to himself and continues running his hands over your back, feeling your body relax to his soft touch.

That night was the first night that you felt good, happy even. You felt relieved, this was one of the first nights that you slept through the whole night. You didn’t wake up to a nightmare clouding your unconscious mind. You had Harry next to you, hugging your body, feeling his warm breath hit the crevices of your neck, feeling his arms wrapped around you as if you were his only safe haven.

The next day…

“You want me to be there with you while you fill out the college application?” Harry asks you as he takes a sip of his tea. 

You hold the mug of freshly brewed coffee and smell the vanilla hazelnut creamer and instantly making you melt. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course. I want to be in every step of the college process, if you let me.”

“I would love that, Harry.” You smile as you set down your mug. 

“Okay, my love,” Harry kisses the top of your head and whispers "I love you” to you. “I’m going to get something for us to eat. I’ll be right back.” He takes his wallet and spare keys into one hand and leans towards you where you sit in the kitchen island. “Kissy?” 

Kissy. A cute little phrase that you would both ask each other to ask for permission for a kiss. A phrase that started since you two were dating for five months. A little phrase that was childish, but you both didn’t care. It was cute. 

You smile up at him. As you took another sip of your coffee, then another one. Teasing Harry as a pout started to appear on his face. He then started blinking his eyes furiously making you stop drinking from your mug. He got you there.

“Kissy.” You lean over to him and kiss him. You cup his cheek and run your freehand into his hair. He moaned into your touch making you smile in response. 

“I’ll be back, yeah?” 

“Okay. I love you Harry.” 

“I love you.” 

He walks out the door with his spare keys being the only thing you hear as he makes his way down the corridor. Leaving you alone with your mug of coffee half-way filled in front of you. You walk to the living room and grab the laptop that was on top of the coffee table and bring it back to the kitchen island. You set it there and wait. You stare at the black screen of the laptop as your reflection looks back at you. You continue taking small sips of your coffee and wait until Harry comes back. 

////////

“Hey, darlin’ I got your favorite snacks and lunch from that Vietnamese restaurant you like.” Harry enters into the small apartment and takes you by surprise. You were reading a book that you always put off. He walked towards you and set the bags of food on the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Are you ready, lovie?” 

As time passed you completed the university application and stopped yourself to double check on every detail that you added on the application. You felt nervous, anxious about completing the whole college application process, but you knew that it was going to be worth it in the end. You were glad that you had Harry with you filling the application, because you wouldn’t have had the courage to fill it out on your own. You were happy that you were accompanied and had his support. Harry didn’t ignore the anxiety and the way that you would play with your fingers while filling out the online application. This was a lot for you and he understood that you needed a well-deserved break. 

“Hey baby, take a small break,” Harry grabs the laptop and closes it, but making sure that he saved the application before doing so. “Here, get some foodsies.” Harry passes you the large bowl filled with your favorite pho. 

You take a mouthful of the delicious seasoned soup and sigh as you feel the warmth of the soup comforting your body, leaving you in a relaxed state. “Thank you my love,” you take a napkin and wipe the corners of your mouth. “I missed pho so much.” 

Harry smiles in response as he takes a bite of his own pho. He sits closer to you as his knees touch yours. He gave you frequent glances as a way to know that you were eating well and keeping note of your reactions. You were comfortable which made him happy. 

The night went along well. You finished applying for the university and only waited to get a response back. A couple of weeks it would take before you would get a response. So you continued going to the bookstore and you were starting to share more things with Harry, something that you didn’t do before. You shared more about your past, your family. He knew about your parents and other closer family members, but you never went into depth with other important people that you grew up with back home. You were happy to share more of your life with Harry. 

You both spent more time with each other more often. If you called Harry that you were feeling down, Harry would drop what he was doing and quickly get to your apartment as fast as he could. If you were on your period and Harry knew about it he would stay the whole week to make sure that you were taking care of yourself and to obviously spoil you. Just because flowers were his favorite habit of showing you that he loved you and would randomly gift you little crochet stuffies from a local independent shop. He eventually got you so many that you were running out of spaces where to put them, but you loved every little crochet plushie, they were just so cute! 

The more time that you spent with Harry you hadn’t picked up a cigarette. After Harry found out that you were smoking to relieve what you were feeling he didn’t judge or tell you that you had to stop smoking. Instead, he didn’t mention it, but acknowledged that it was something that you picked up when you were feeling depressed. So, you were grateful that he was there with you along the way of you figuring out how to slowly stop smoking. 

Weeks later…

And so you waited two weeks. In those two weeks a lot happened. Harry was getting his stuff ready to officially move in with you. Nothing much happened, just helping Harry move in his boxes and get him situated in your now shared apartment. He was excited to start living with you and as he said it “Happy to wake up next to my lovie every mornin’.” You were ecstatic to live with Harry, and, well, he already was living in your apartment when he would stay some nights, but this was going to be different. You were going to wake up next to him every morning and being grumpy on Saturday mornings because Harry would wake you to go on morning runs. On a Saturday out of all days! But you were getting too used to him living in your shared space.

Later that week you received an acceptance letter from the university that you applied at. When Harry came to the apartment from work that same day you told him out of excitement. He hugged you tight and gave you so many kisses that overwhelmed you, but you didn’t care you were too happy. The following week you spent a whole week getting school supplies. Harry came along of course picking out the most random things that he swore that you would use in college. Who needs three white boards and two big packs of big sticky notes? You were content in getting one white board and one big sticky note pack just to make Harry feel better. 

“But you’re gonna need two of ‘em, lovie.” 

You chuckle at his antics, “Why two Harry? I just need one.” 

Harry stares down at the plastic covered white board in his hands. “Cause ya gonna need to jot down our date nights. You can’t fit everythin’ on one white board.” He reminds you.

“Bubba, one is enough.” 

You take the white board and pack of stickies with you along with some other supplies. Harry followed behind as he kept putting in colorful markers and journaling stickers in the cart. He definitely made that shopping trip amusing. And you loved every moment of it. 

Four years later…

You sat at every class lecture and followed along what the professors talked about. You were present, you were dedicated and it paid off. There were times where you had breakdowns because of the workload that law school brought to you and it was a lot to handle. The anxiety that was kept at bay was slowly creeping onto you during those troubling school semesters that were always heavy with coursework, but you always had Harry there to guide you through breathing techniques. It was a lot, but you were happy that you were pushing through those semesters for you, for your future and Harry’s. You were proud all those days that you showed up to class prepared to learn the material and to later take the bar exams.

Those four years really did pay off. Cap and gown on and a smile on your face as you waited for your name to be called on the intercom. You walked onto stage as you had the urge to cry, but you stopped yourself because you knew that this was your moment. You were ecstatic that you finally met your goal. Going to school and having Harry and your close family members with you during this long journey. Happy that you were no longer alone… well, you were never alone, but you finally knew what it felt to let people in, let people care about you and let them hear your struggles. You were no longer suffering in silence. You were now walking down the stage with a diploma in your hand, holding onto your biggest achievement and you were excited to see what the future held for you. You knew that whatever life would bring you, you would no longer fight it alone, because you had people and you were no longer going to struggle in silence.

[pluckyredhead]

…Sorry if this is a bit weird but do you have any queer romance book recommendations? I ended up finishing the last binding trilogy because you posted about it (you have excellent taste lol) and I’m a bit stuck at the moment with what to read next.

Not weird at all! I absolutely have recs! Also Freya Marske has a brand new book out called Swordcrossed if you want more of her writing. (For people who are not anon: The Last Binding is an Edwardian historical fantasy romance trilogy and it's excellent.)

Okay recs:

KJ Charles: My favorite queer romance author, hands down, and also the most prolific! She's written over 30 queer historical romance novels (and one queer historical mystery), mostly M/M, all historical and set in the UK during various time periods ranging from the 1810s to the 1920s. My two favorite things about her work: 1. It draws very heavily on the history, meaning that her characters never come across like modern people in historical cosplay. And 2. she's great at creating genuine conflict between or around characters. I have read too many romances where everything is uwu softness and nothing hurts but Charles's characters are always either fundamentally divided by politics, class, ethical perspectives, lies, and/or tragic backstories, OR they get along fine but a murderer is trying to kill them, OR, in the best of her books, both.

My favorites are probably The Will Darling Adventures (1920s trilogy all about the same couple fighting a criminal secret society), A Seditious Affair (1810s, a radical firebrand and a Tory government official accidentally fall in love while having extremely kinky sex), An Unnatural Vice (1870s, "spiritualist" con artist and the crusading journalist trying to expose him), and Any Old Diamonds (1890s, The Saddest Boy in the World hires a sexy jewel thief to rob his horrible father, kink ensues), but you can really start anywhere - Think of England is where I jumped on and it's nice because it's more of a standalone (there is a companion book but Think of England comes first). If you liked The Last Binding, you might want to start with her Magpie Lord series because they are also fantasy romance. (Freya Marske is a big KJ Charles fan and it shows, in a good way.)

Allie Therin: Sticking with the fantasy romance angle here for a moment, Therin has a 1920s trilogy called Magic in Manhattan that is all about the same couple, a prickly magic-user named Rory and the big hunky WWI vet who loves him, as they fight various evil magicians. (HUGE oversimplification but you get it.) There's a spinoff trilogy, the Roaring Twenties Magic series, which has two books out so far. I love NYC, the 1920s, fantasy, and queer romance, so obviously I love all of this.

But I'm particularly obsessed with her Sugar and Vice series (also a trilogy, first book is out already and the second one comes out next month) which is set in modern day Seattle and is about an empath named Reece and the super dangerous empath hunter called the Dead Man who may or may not be here to kill Reece, and also there's a serial killer on the loose. This one is a suuuuuuper slow burn (they don't even kiss in the first book!), so you have to be patient but I read the second book early and yeah I'm obsessed and desperate to talk to other people about these books.

Charlie Adhara: More paranormal romance! I wrote about these books at greater length recently, but the short version is: FBI agent gets transferred to the super secret werewolf division of the FBI and partnered with a hot werewolf, they fall in love, spend five books developing into The Ultimate Power Couple, I'm in love with their love. There's a spinoff series called Monster Hunt but only one book is out so far.

TJ Klune: I probably don't have to tell anyone about TJ Klune anymore and I'll admit he can be hit or miss for me but I did really love Wolfsong. As long as we're talking werewolves.

Dessa Lux: Okay these are more erotica than romance but Omega Required is a comfort read for me, which is funny because I'm not usually an omegaverse gal. But this is about a very sweet alpha doctor who offers a marriage of convenience to a very traumatized omega and it's literally just nonstop cuddling and soup. She also has a series that's just ever-growing werewolf gangbangs, if that's a thing you're into. Like. A cartoonish amount of werewolves at the gangbang. It's delightful.

Cat Sebastian: I will admit Sebastian is also a little bit hit or miss for me. I loved her very first trilogy, the Turner series, which is very much in the vein of KJ Charles (Regency romance, class divides, lots of conflict). She wrote some more 19th century stuff after that and then moved into mid-20th century romance (50s-70s) which is honestly very rare. She also basically...stopped writing any conflict at all. I would say a large portion of her books after the Turner series can be accurately described as "two best friends who are secretly in love with each other sit in the same house/apartment and enjoy each other's company until they get together." I know a BUNCH of people who absolutely love that and they are well-written! But I really have to be in the right mood for them.

Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy: Okay I am not a hockey person, but you must, you MUST read Him and its sequel, Us. Hockey-playing BFFs, one is gay and secretly in love with the the other, the other one is like "I don't think I'm into dudes but I'd better give you 300 blowjobs to make sure." (Spoiler: he's into dudes.) Honestly the stupidest men imaginable. I love them so much. Bowen has written a few other queer romances solo and I'm working my way through her back catalog now.

Rachel Reid: Yes it's more hockey romance but. BUT. Heated Rivalry. Two of the top players in the NHL, on rival teams, have famously hated each other for years...and have secretly been fucking since they were rookies. Reid is another one where I'm still working my way through her books but Heated Rivalry is something special.

I am SURE there are more I'm forgetting but this is long so I'll stop it here for now! Also folks should feel free to reblog with further recs, she said selfishly.

[callsign-rogueone]

you called - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader You're captured by gryphon fliers while out alone on patrol, but Brennan comes to your rescue. [request] words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, as this occurs years before Fourth Wing, soon after Bren graduated from Basgiath. gender neutral reader in an established romantic relationship with Brennan. brief / vague descriptions of interrogation, torture, and inhumane treatment of reader by fliers, but Bren mends you and takes care of you (lots of cuddles). your dragon is mated to Marbh. her name is Fuir, a shortened form of the word for "alive" since Marbh means "dead". you sleep in Bren's shirt but there's no description of how it fits on you. wrote this in an hour and didn't edit so be nice pls

It’s easy enough to find the cell block. You’re the only prisoner there, with just one guard posted outside that Brennan makes quick work of, taking the keys from his belt to unlock the door.

He kneels down by your side, comforted by the rise and fall of your chest -- he’d known that you were still alive, because he is, as are Fuir and Marbh, but the visual confirmation is soothing.

He wraps a hand around your wrist to block the pain, using the other to start mending your wounds. Whoever had been interrogating you must have had a very short temper; your temples are bloodied, a few of your ribs bruised or broken, several small cuts dotting the exposed skin of your arms -- they’d taken your flight jacket, as a trophy.

He burns with anger, but forces himself to focus on the good, the fact that you’re still alive in front of him, that he’d found you before it was too late.

You finally open those pretty eyes, struggling to focus your gaze on him, but you put it together quickly enough. “Bren,” you murmur, delirious, “you came.”

“You called,” he answers simply, still working on mending your wounds.

It takes you a moment to work through the thick fog of what is definitely a concussion, but you realize he must have heard your desperate cries for help down the bond and came to find you; your plan worked.

You’d wanted to give up hope after the first day, but accepting your death meant accepting Brennan’s as well, and you couldn’t let him die like that, so you persevered. You’d forced yourself to eat what meager portions of food they’d given you, to drink the foul-tasting water and sleep as much as you could, to keep yourself alive.

Whenever they left you alone, you’d tried to reach for Fuir, for Brennan and Marbh, for your magic, getting no responses. After two days, you realized that they must have put a power-dampener in that water, like the one the professors had dosed you with before RSC to disconnect you from your dragons. So you’d stopped drinking it, pouring it out instead to make it look like you had -- and that night, you’d finally felt that little red string connecting you to Fuir, and the shimmering orange one that leads you to Brennan and Marbh. 

You’d cried in relief, trying to reach out to them, but your words had quickly turned to screams of pain as the officer returned to try to get information out of you again. They must have figured out your scheme, because the beating was the worst that day -- they’d hardly ever left you alone, giving you less than an hour between rounds of questioning.

You close your eyes again, realizing that this is probably a dream, a hallucination brought on by days of isolation in this dark room with only enough food and water to keep you alive. You aren’t really aware of how long it’s been. There’s no sunlight down here, and they haven’t been feeding you on a regular schedule, so you couldn’t keep track by counting the meals, either.

“I thought Navarre didn’t bother with extractions,” you mumble. 

“They don’t. So I might be court-martialed when we get back, but I don’t care. I couldn’t leave you here.”

“M’sorry,” you murmur. “Shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Thank you for finding me.”

“Don’t apologize, love. And I’ll always find you,” he promises, stroking your hair. “We’re tied together, aren’t we?”

You manage a soft laugh that quickly turns into a cough, your throat dry and raw from the screaming and from days without much water.

He decides he’s mended you enough for now -- you should be able to move now without injuring yourself further, and you really need to get out of here. “Up you get,” he coaxes, hooking an arm around your waist and helping you up from the floor.

Someone is waiting for you in the hallway -- someone dressed in black. A rider.  “Nao?” you ask, blinking at him. You really must be hallucinating.

The older rider smiles at you. “Hi, kid. Good to see you in one piece.” He turns to Brennan. “There’s two guards at each exit. We can take them, but they’ll probably sound an alarm.”

The two men continue to strategize, and you try to follow along, but most of the words go in one ear and out the other. You settle for leaning against Brennan and trying to stay awake.

“Hello, sweet one,” Fuir says gently, and you nearly cry at the familiar voice back in your head after days of isolation.

“Hi,” you respond in a whisper.

Brennan and Naolin have agreed on a plan, and you follow them closely, staying by Brennan’s side as they lead you out of the compound. Naolin makes quick work of both of the guards, knocking them out easily, and you slip past the treeline into the forest.

It’s freezing outside, literally -- your boots make tracks through the half-inch of snow on the ground that continues to fall gently, tiny flakes drifting through the air and coating everything in a thin layer of white.

You rub your hands over your arms, trying to keep warm. Brennan drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and you burrow into it, happy to be wrapped in the warmth and softness of the fur-collared fabric and the comforting smell of your partner. 

You finally spot Fuir -- she looks a little worse for wear, too, cuddled up with Marbh, who is licking her wounds like an oversized cat. Cute.

“Can you still make it home?” you ask, concerned.

She sounds slightly offended. “Of course I can. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She lays down, making it easier for you to climb up her leg. As you settle into your seat, you can feel invisible bands of magic keeping you in place -- you breathe a sigh of relief that you won’t have to worry about keeping your seat as you pass over the mountain range. You have no idea how long of a flight it’s going to be, but you don’t think you could handle more than a few minutes in the saddle.

“Now would be an excellent time to leave!” Naolin shouts from his perch on the back of Tairn’s neck.

You turn your head, seeing three gryphons closing in from your right. Shit.

“We’ll be fine,” she soothes. “If we get high enough, they won’t be able to follow us.”

You shut your eyes tightly as the cold wind hits your cheeks, making your eyes water -- they’d taken your goggles too, and all your knives, everything except your base layer of clothing. She raises her head, blocking the worst of it, tightening up her formation with Tairn and Marbh, letting each of them protect you from one side.

“I think we lost them,” Brennan tells you through the bond, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Fuir adjusts the invisible ties keeping you seated, guiding you forward to lean against the back of her neck. “Rest. It’s another hour to get home.”

You hum in reply, pulling Brennan’s cloak tighter around your shoulders and relaxing into her. She feels warmer than usual, likely because you’re freezing cold.

You wake to the feeling of the wind dying down, and her wings stilling as she lands.

She settles down into the snowy grass, letting you climb down slowly. 

Brennan is waiting on the ground to help you, gathering you into his arms. “Let’s get you to the infirmary,” he coaxes.

You shake your head no. “Want you to do it,” you say quietly. 

He caves easily, leading you to his room, keeping you tucked into his side with a strong arm around your waist. Nobody questions it or stops you on the way up, your bloodied appearance perfectly normal for a rider.

He settles you into his desk chair, starting to mend the smaller cuts and bruises that he hadn’t gotten to earlier. The warmth of his hands and the feeling of the aching pain subsiding relaxes you, your eyes falling shut.

“You think you can shower?” he asks gently.

You nod. You don’t want to get up, but you do feel absolutely disgusting after the last four days, and a shower is definitely in order. Two showers, probably. 

You follow him into the en-suite bathroom, going through the motions without thought -- washing the blood from your skin, scrubbing off the dirt and making an attempt at washing your hair. Brennan stands by your side, showering himself in near-silence, washing off the day. 

He wraps you in a warm towel, letting you rest against him for a moment. “You should eat something,” he says gently.

You burrow deeper into him in protest. “Later,” you murmur. You just want to sleep. It’s late, nearing lights-out anyway, and you need to rest up for the inevitable scolding you’re going to get tomorrow morning.

“Do you want one of your shirts, or mine?” he asks.

“Yours, please,” you answer quietly; his clothes are always more comfortable, more comforting to you, and you could use that extra layer of his presence right now. You finish drying yourself off, letting him slip one of his black tunics over your head and wiggling your arms into the sleeves.

He pulls the covers back, motioning for you to climb into bed with him. The softness of the mattress underneath you and the feel of warm, clean blankets against your skin after three days of sleeping on a dirty stone floor is overwhelming. You finally start to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re safe, my love,” he soothes, holding you close. “You’re home, with me.”

“I know,” you whisper, trying to steady your breathing. “I know, I just…”

He shushes you softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I love you, and that I will never let anything like that happen to you again.”

You nod against his shoulder. “Love you too,” you sniff. “Thank you for finding me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I will always find you.”

You relax into him, comforted by the warmth of his body against yours, the muscled arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne that lingers on the sheets. This is the safest place in the world, right here -- not Navarre, not the fortress, but this room, this bed, because Brennan is in it, holding you.

“Get some sleep,” he encourages. “I’ll be right here with you.”

You hum in reply, nuzzling your cheek into his chest and letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep.

[daytaker]

The Obey Me! Gang as dril tweets

Lucifer: i challenge any man who thinks that my 7 handsome border collies are too loud through-out the day to a round of Chess, the game of kings Mammon: just because im following yiou on here doesn't mean im obligated to read your fucking posts, or like you, or marry you and be happy forever, Leviathan: (after hearing the library has games ,i arrive at the front desk, disguised as a non-gamer) er.. im here for some.. book's Satan (OG): if you say the words "Room temperature" to me ill flip my lid. room temp varies depending on the room. youre talking shit out of your mouth. Satan (NB): IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL Asmodeus: i like to act genuinely baffled when people tell me to shut the fuck up. like "Huh? But why? The shit i post here helps people, but ok," Beelzebub: holy gravy holy meat holy moly let us eat Belphegor: go ahead. keep screaming "Shut The Fuck Up " at me. it only makes my opinions Worse Diavolo: my friends, theres nothing i enojy more than a capsule of beer , while tasting beer with other 18-34 year olds, at the beer store Barbatos: fairly confident that even if i became a rat some how, i still would not want to fuck any of the other rats Solomon: the jduge orders me to take off my anonymous v mask & im wearing the joker makeup underneath it. everyone in the courtroom groans at my shit Simeon: there is too much of Lies... Luke: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked, none of you are free of sin Mephistopheles: Hm lets see. Do I "Shut the fuck uop", or continue exposing the truths of life to the chagrin of the 99% of people on earth who are villains Thirteen: judges should sentence perverts to more stupid shit, like making them do obstacle courses made out of porno. bet it's not so good now huh Raphael: baptizing my badge and gun, in Sinnersblood MC: ive seen like 9 separate group dms that are named "Boys Chat". 9 parallel universes, each with their own fucked up opinions regarding Lunch

*All misspellings, typos, and grammatical errors are from the original tweets.

[misscammiedawn]

When I browse around hypnokink Tumblr I often see such delightful posts about slipping past people's defenses and emptying out their minds until they are open and exposed and easily guided into whatever the hypnotist wishes.

I truly enjoy such posts, though more often than not they slip into undressing and physical seduction that grows far too erotic for my asexual tastes...

Rather than be a wet blanket I have chosen to now read those carnal desires with a wicked grin.

I simply imagine a scenario of a needy whimpering hypnotee begging with lustful abandon and not even realizing as my words slip past their critical mind, gently slide in the tumblers of their mind and undo them, leaving them blank, malleable, biddable, pliable, vapid, empty and oh so void.

Then and only then would I take my needy and docile plaything and charge all of that lusty and needy energy and turn it into affection and adoration. I wish to enchant them and claim all of that desire and turn it to soft, gentle tenderness. I don't want to bend you over and use you, oh no... no, no, no. I want to bend your will and have you snuggle against me. I want you laying your head on my impossibly soft lap as I play with your hair with one hand and read a book with the other. I care not for sluts unless they are snuggle sluts.

I do not want your body, I can clearly take your mind. No, I want, just for a few lovely moments? Your heart.

[capsicle-evans]

The Make Believe Ms Evans

Summary: A PR marriage between Y/N and Chris Evans has skyrocketed their careers but their sex lives has never been this low. Up until now.

Warnings: unprotected sex, swearing

Series Master Post

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“What are you reading?” Chris raises one eyebrow, moving his attention away from Dodger to me.

“Nothin” I blush, sitting up in a straighter position.

“Sure and that’s why you’ve been whimpering and pressing your legs for the last 5 minutes” He rolls his eyes and before I can stop him, he snatches the book right out of my hands.

“Give it back, you dick” I try to retrieve it from his hands but he is so much stronger than me so he keeps me away with just one arm.

“Let’s see” He scans the pages as a grin spreads over his lips. “Oh we haven’t done that”

“Give me that” I manage to get my book back, giving him a dirty look before settling back down on the couch. “You are such a kid sometimes”

“Why are so so ashamed?” Chris frowns. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked by now”

“I know” I blush as the mental picture of a naked Chris floods my mind. “It’s just… forget about it”

“Y/N” Chris’s frown deepens as he steps closer to me. “You have been eaten out, right?”

Why can the Earth just swallow me whole right now? Why must I go through this? I mean it’s not like it’s my fault, but still.

“Of course” I roll my eyes before placing the book over my face to block Chris stare. “Leave me alone”

I try to focus back on the story, the words of intimacy that lay before be sending warm waves through my body. I clench my thighs as the main character is being stimulated by her male counter part, her pussy being consumed by his mouth.

I jump a little in my spot when I feel a warm hand pushing up the hem of my dress. “What-?” I move my book away to look down where Chris lays in between my legs, his hands tugging at my underwear. I try to speak but the words get stuck at the back of my throat as my core gets exposed right on front of Chris’s face. “Chris” I try to grab his head to push him away but he shakes it off.

“Just relax” He looks up at me, his eyes turned a deep shade of stormy blue. “Read to me”

“What?” I pant as he connects his lips to my inner thigh. He points at my book with a little nod, darting his tongue out to taste the saltiness of my skin. “No, I want to-“

“Read to me or I’ll stop” He gives me a pointed look as he grabs both of my legs to drape them over his shoulders.

“Fine” I grunt before placing the book back in front of my face as Chris moves a couple of inches closer to my throbbing center. “I needed release” I start reading, feeling Chris’s breath fanning my pussy. “I needed Simon to let me reach it, but every time I got close, he’d pull away”

“I should do that with you” Chris grins against my skin before finally swiping his tongue between my folds. The new sensation pushes my legs together, smothering Chris closer to my pussy. “Keep reading, Y/N” Chris grunts against me before pulling my clit as he sucks on it.

“I can’t” I gasp as he spreads me open with his big hands. His tongue darts inside me forcing his chin to rub against me so his beard burns against my thighs. Chris looks up at me before removing his mouth from me.

“Be a fucking good girl and read” Chris bites into my thigh before reaching up to place the book back into my hands. “Or I won’t eat you, bunny”

The pet name makes me blush so I grab the book to hide my face. Smiling up, Chris moves back to his mission. This time he spreads my fold, my puss glistening and blushing under his gaze. A sudden embarrassment takes over me so I focus on the words in front of me. “His mouth is demanding and savoring my core” as I say this, Chris’s tongue tortures my clitoris, his fingers digging into my skin. I drop the book again so my hands can fly to his hair, digging in between his golden locks.

“The bo-“

“Shut up” I push his head against me, muffling his words. I can feel him grinning against me as he intensifies his swipes across my pussy, focusing on my clitoris every once in a while.

“Do you like this?” Chris’s raspy voice breaks through my moans. “God you make the best sounds”

“Chris” I moan his name as he starts fucking me with is tongue and his thumb massages my bud. “I’m so close”

“Yeah, cum over my tongue, bunny” Chris replaces his thumb with his lips and his index fingers starts fucking my pussy, thrusting hard into me. “I want to feel you clench around my finger”

I feel the pressure building, the need for release making me shudder against his touch. I pull on his hair, the waves of pleasure rising as he laps at my lips and when he adds a second finger, I’m a goner.

“Fuck fuck fuck” I pant, shaking under him as I my release rides away under his mouth. I’m trashing under him so Chris grabs my hips, pinning me down.

“God I want to be inside you” Chris holds himself up as he undoes his pants. His dick springs out, wanting to join the action.

“Please, Chris” I grab his white shirt, pulling him down to me. “Fuck me”

“Your wish is my command” He plants a quick kiss before plunging inside of me. “Damn, you feel so good around me. So tight and wet”

“You stretch me so good, Daddy” I moan out and suddenly Chris goes stiff over me. My hands fly to my mouth, realizing the words that just came out of me. “Shit sorry”

Chris eyes are almost black, his chest heaving and the vein on his neck pulsing. “Say it again”

Fuck. I grab his neck so our foreheads are touching. “Make me cum again, Daddy” I whine against his lips as his hand wraps around my neck, gripping just enough.

“You like that?” Chris starts entering me faster and harder, pressing down on my neck to gain stability. “Open up, baby girl”

His thumb tugs at my lips so I make an O shape with my mouth. Pulling me closer by the neck, Chris spits in my mouth. I lick my lips close and guide his face to the crook of my neck. “I’m so close, so close”

Chris bites into my collarbone as his hips roll faster before becoming sloppy and erratic. “I’m cummin, fuck” Chris moans hard as I feel him spilling inside of me.

His orgasm and moans send me over the edge once again. My nails ding into his back as the waves of pleasure consume my every senses.

Sex was always okay with my exes, my vibrator achieving more than they ever did. Until Chris. He fucks me up so good, I always end up wrecked, exhausted and destroyed.

Chris pulls out from inside of me but makes no intention of getting off me, his cum dripping along my thighs. “Move” I laugh as he rests his head over my boobs.

“Give me a minute, woman” He sasses me. “If I move, I might pass out”

“Ugh fine” I roll my eyes, throwing my arm over my face.

I can feel his chest rising and falling over mine, his shallow breaths colliding with my covered nipple. Too focused on his heaving chest, my eyes begin to drift off, my eyelids getting too heavy to keep them open. And the last thing I can remember is a sigh that passes through Chris’s lips.

***

My dry mouth slowly wakes me up, the urge for a glass of water strong in the back of my throat. My eyes flutter open and it takes me a couple of seconds to adjust to the darkness. I rub my eyes to remove the sleep that still holds on, the clock on the wall flashing 2:00 am. Fuck, last time I remember, it was 8:47 pm, right after Chris and I had dinner. Chris.

My head snaps to my chest as a golden mane rests peacefully over my chest. Chris is still deep into his sleep so I try not to wake him up but I need to get out of here. As a small woman, a very tall man laying over me is not really good for my blood flow. I can tell my legs are almost numb from being under him. I try to push him softly on his side so that I can roll away and leave him sleeping here.

“Mm” Chris purrs against my skin, his ocean eyes blinking open slowly.

“Sorry” I whisper, placing my hand over his shoulder blade. “I just need some water”

“Yeah sure” Chris straightens up and I can feel the stickiness he left behind over.

“Okay, and a shower as well” I laugh as I move towards the kitchen, Chris following close behind.

“And is there room for me?” He gives me puppy eyes as I fill my glass up with water.

“Hm that depends” I pretend to think as I bring the glass up to my lips. “Are you going to behave?”

Chris walks to stand behind me, his hands immediately reaching for my hips. He dips his head down to nuzzle my neck. “No, I won’t”

Chris pushes my hips back against his erection as his free hand takes purchase of my nipple. “You know what drives me crazy?”

“What?” I barely speak as his tongue savors the skin behind my ear.

“The way you look right after I’ve fucked you” His other hand hides under the hem of my shorts, softly massaging my entrance over my panties. “Your face right after your orgasm is so fucking hot, your mouth all swollen up and red and so so tempting”

“Chris” I gasp, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as Chris’ index finger dips inside of me.

“Yes, how you moan my name also makes my pants explote” He adds a second finger in, forcing my head to fall back against his chest. “I also love it when you were sun dresses and you bend down and I get to look at your perfect ass”

With that, Chris slaps my butt cheek, sending shivers straight to my core. “You know how many times I touched myself with that imagine in my mind? How I pictured you riding me reverse cowgirl, your ass slamming against my skin?”

“I need you Chris” I manage to speak, my eyes closed as my hips follow the rhythm of his hand.

“Come here” Chris spins me around to pick me up. “Wrap your legs around me, bunny”

With me in his arms, Chris walks us to the shower in his bathroom. I take my time to ravage his neck with my mouth, earning moans and praises when I dig my teeth softly in his skin

“If you don’t stop, we are not gonna make it to the shower”

Chris puts me down so he can turn the water on and let if warm up to us. “Off with those clothes”

“So impatient” I grin, pulling down my shorts, revealing my damp red panties.

“You are so fucking hot” Chris admires me as I remove the rest of my clothes. “Really why didn’t we start this sooner?”

“Don’t know, but now we have all the time in the world” I pull him down by the neck to meet my lips. I grab the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. His pants come off soon after and he guides me into the shower, the hot water steaming up the entire room.

“Come here” Chris hugs my waist and pulls me under the shower head, water splashing us.

“Last time I saw you here” I grin, gripping his arm muscles. “You were pleasuring yourself”

“Really?” He grins, blush straining his cheeks. “Do you want to know what I was thinking about?”

“What?” I bite my bottom lip.

“You in that pink night gown” Chris presses his hip against me, his tip tickling my belly. “And how much I wanted to take it off and fuck you so hard”

“Chris” I breath out, my pussy clenching at his words. “Show me”

***

“What the fuck?” A loud shrink wakes me up, making me jump on my spot. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

I look at the door when Polly and Claire have their mouths wide open and staring back at me.

“Can you two shut up?” I groan, letting by head fall back into the pillow.

“Please” Chris whines behind me and that’s when I realize what is happening.

I fell asleep on Chris’ bed. After sex. He is naked. I’m naked. Claire and Polly are here. Fuck.

“Like Hell” Claire replies to me. “Can you guys fucking explain?”

“Do you want me to explain to you how I fucked my wife?” Chris rolls his eyes as he pulls away from me, still holding on to the bed spread.

“I think I’m having a fucking seizure” Polly brings her hand up to her head. “I’m about to have an aneurysm”

“Stop being so dramatic” I roll my eyes, reaching for a towel thats on the floor near my side of the bed. “You guys should be delighted”

“With the two of you, we never know” Claire shakes her head before tossing Chris his pants from the floor. “Get ready. You’ll explain later. Your stylists are here to get you ready for the event”

Agh of course, the fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital.

“Fine, be down in five” I wave them off as I move pass them towards my room.

“No funny business” Polly points at the two of us.

“As if I last 5 minutes” I hear Chris reply and then a loud thud. Probably some shoe aimed towards Chris.

And the rest of the morning is spent with people running around doing my hair and makeup, Chris trying on different suits and Polly and Claire staring at us like we grew a second head.

I can tell they want to grill us with questions but every time they try to approach the subject, someone else walks into the room and they have to turn their attention to something else. It’s not until we are all seated at out assigned table at the event that Polly finally breaks the silence.

“So how long?” She asks us, her voice un almost a whisper to not gain any attention.

“The day after the premiere” Chris replies, bringing his whiskey up to his lips.

“Ok not that long then” Claire nods. “Should we be concern?”

“Because I’m having sex with my wife?” Chris asks and I almost choke on a piece of cheese. “No, I don’t think so”

“You guys hated each other less than two weeks ago” Claire places her hands on the table, leaning forward so that only us can hear. “If this goes wrong I can only imagine how hard it’s gonna be for us”

“Relax” I roll my eyes, leaning back into my chair. “We are adults, we know what we are doing”

“That does nothing to calm me” Polly shakes her head. “But if there’s one thing I know about you two is that you never make our jobs any easier”

“Can we please just drop it?” Chris sounds more irritated now. “We are married, as you have made emphasis on for the last four months, we are getting along. Leave it alone”

“Fine” Polly slumps back down on her chair. “I just don’t even have the energy for this”

“Great” Chris nods before turning to me. “I’m gonna go say hi to some friends, do you want to come?”

“No, it’s okay” I wave him off. “I actually wanna see the garden so I’ll go for a walk”

“I can join you if you want” Chris offers but I know he hasn’t seen his friends in a while.

“No, it’s okay” I smile at him. “I saw Ana de Armas a couple of minutes ago, I’ll ask her to keep me company” Ana and I became really good friends on set whenever I had to pay a visit to my beloved husband.

“Kay” Chris stands before placing a kiss on my cheek. “See ya in a bit”

I follow him until he disappears from my view and my eyes fall back to the two ladies in front of me. “Stop fucking staring”

“It’s just so fucking weird honestly” Polly shakes her head before bringing her glass of wine up to her lips. “I’m gonna need more of this honestly”

“Fine whatever, I’m gonna go for a walk” I grab my clutch and walk away from the table.

I look around the beautiful garden to decide what to do. I spot Ana deep in a conversation with someone so I decide better not to step into their conversation. I decide to check out the paintings that are being displayed for the fundraiser. Most of them are floral themed and filled with pastel colors and soft drawings.

“Do you like it?” A deep voice startles me as I’m gazing closely up at a painting. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you”

“It’s okay” I wave him off before turning my attention back to the painting. “Yeah, it’s gorgeous”

“Good, cuz I painted it” He beams at me proudly. “Jaques, nice to meet you”

“Y/N, like wise” I extend my hand to shake it but he grabs it and brings it up to his lips. I pull it back quickly as I feel my cheeks go warm “You must be proud of your work”

“Very much so” He steps a bit closer to me. “And tell me Y/N, do you paint?”

“No no” I chuckle, grasping my glass of wine with both of my hands. “I always wanted to but never got around to doing something about it”

“What a shame” He gives me a side smile. “I’m pretty sure someone as beautiful as you would only creat art just as beautiful”

I feel myself physically cringing but I try not to be rude so I just smile.

“I could give you some lessons” He steps closer, his hand reaching for my elbow to pull me closer. “We could meet and I could show you everything you need”

Before I can open my mouth or step away from him, I feel a big hand wrap around my waist and pull me away hard until I’m pushed into someone’s chest. I look up to find Chris with his eyes set hard over Jaques. “Chris?” My voice comes out squeezed as he presses me against his side. Chris manages to peel his eyes away from Jaques to look down at me.

“Hi, Bunny” He winks down at me before leaning down to connect our lips in a kiss that anyone would consider inappropriate in public. He finally pulls away to look back to Jaques. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, I was just telling Y/N that I could give her some painting le-”

“Ms. Evans” Chris interrupts Jaques and I feel my cheeks burning but my pussy as well. Fuck who knew possessive Chris was such a turn on.

“What?” Jaques almost stumbles with his words.

“She is Ms. Evans to you” Chris makes emphasis on this by showing up his ring. “And about those painting classes, I don’t think they’ll be necessary. If she wants to we can get her another teacher. Now if you excuse us, my wife and I have somewhere to be”

Chris doesn’t even let Jaques form a reply before he is turning us away. “There was no need to be rude” I try to glare at Chris but his eyes look so stormed up that my words come out in breaths.

“There was no need for him to touch you” Chris guides me towards some stairs that lead to the foyer of the mansion where event is being held.

“Where are we going?” I frown when I notice Chris is moving us towards a hallway.

“To teach you some lessons, not painting ones” He pushes me into a room before locking the door behind us. “But a lesson nonetheless”

I moan as he pushes himself against me and his mouth takes over mine. “Chris, someone could hear us”

“Better, then”

***

“Look, our first sex scandal” I grin as I show Chris the pictures someone manage to snap of us going inside the manor and then walking back out with my hair a little undone and Chris’ shirt poorly button up.

“Claire and Polly must be thrilled” He grins as I flop down next to him on his bed.

“I think they actually were” I laugh as I show them the text that they sent me. “Everyone is talking about us and all those rumors of divorce seem to be a thing of the past”

“Good” Chris smiles down at me before looking down through my night gown at the hickey he left right over my left boob. “Sorry about that”

“It’s nothing” I wave him off. “I’m just wearing turtle necks until next week I guess”

“Uh, it’s a shame no one is going to see my work of art” He grins, pulling me by the waist so that I’m pressing up against him.

“Oh no mister” I laugh, pressing my hands against his chest to push back away from him but his grip is tighter. “I’m all sore, you need to let me rest”

“Fine” He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t let ho of me.

His blue eyes stare down into mine and suddenly I feel my throat dry up. His eyes flicker between mine and my lips before he leans in to touch my forehead with his.

“Chris” I breath out, my heart going a haywire as he nuzzles my nose with his. “I should probably go to my room”

“Y/N” Chris covers my neck softly with his hand to connect our lips for a brief kiss. “Stay”

“I have my room” I reach for his hand with mine but don’t pull away. “We have separate rooms for a reason”

“I don’t think I remember that reason anymore” He grins against my lips before moving his lips down to my neck. I expect him to tease me there but he just stays there and pulls me hard against his chest. “Stay”

“Okay”

***************************************************

Hi i know it’s been forever but I kinda got stuck. I have proofread it so sorry for the mistakes

@talesofadragon @patzammit @rainyhort10-blog @cutedisneygrl @creae7881 @edtomh @8crazy-freak8 @weirdpeoplecoolpeople @sarahdonald87 @mrsevans90

[corioswife]

first post 🎀 nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable !!

Early President!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

please check out my newest coriolanus fic here, then enjoy reading!

Coriolanus Snow, the infamous President of Panem, found himself alone in the Capitol's vast library. The dim lighting cast an ethereal glow over his surroundings, adding an air of intimacy to the usually austere environment.

" I shouldn't be here " he mused aloud, his deep voice echoing through the shelves. Yet here he was, unable to shake off the thought of you - the woman who had captured his heart and mind like no other.

You were unlike any other woman Coriolanus had met - fierce and fearless, with a wit as sharp as your tongue. Your laughter was contagious, and your eyes held a sparkle that set him on fire every time they met.

As he paced through the aisles, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, fighting against the desire coursing through him. He couldn't deny it any longer; he needed you, craved you, wanted nothing more than to feel your body pressed against his.

With a growl of frustration, President Snow made his way towards the secluded section of the library where he knew you often retreated during your visits to the Capitol. The scent of your favorite lavender-scented candles wafted through the air, guiding him towards you.

" You " he breathed out, his heart hammering against his chest as he finally laid eyes on you. You were curled up on a plush armchair, lost in a book, unaware of his presence.

Coriolanus slowly approached, stepping closer to you until he was directly in front of you. Without breaking your gaze, he extended his hand invitingly, his voice low and seductive. " May I? " May I join you? " You glance up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the political tension between you, there's an undeniable spark between you two that refuses to be ignored

" Of course " you replied, setting your book aside on the table next to you. As you shifted slightly, your skirt hitched up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of lace-trimmed black lingerie beneath.

Coriolanus couldn't resist reaching out to touch you, running his fingers lightly down your arm. " You look so radiant " he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

" President Snow " you purred, leaning into his touch. Your eyes locked onto his, a silent invitation passing between you.

The tension between you two was palpable as Coriolanus stepped closer, his body brushing against yours. His hand trailed up your thigh, tracing the delicate lace of your undergarment. " I've been thinking about this moment for far too long "

You breathed out softly, your heart racing as his fingers teased against your sensitive skin. " And what have you been thinking? " you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Coriolanus' lips curved into a devilish grin as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. " I've been thinking about what it would be like to taste you " he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh.

Your heart raced as his fingers skimmed ever closer to your core. " Coriolanus " you gasped out, your body shivering in anticipation. " Yes? " He paused, his fingertips lingering on the edge of your undergarment.

With one final, teasing swipe, he pushed aside the lace and exposed you to his touch. His warm breath fanned across your sensitive folds, sending shivers down your spine. " I want to taste you " he confirmed, his voice low and husky.

" Then taste " you breathed out, arching your hips up towards him. His tongue darted out and licked gently against you, teasing and exploring every inch of your sensitive skin.

You moaned softly, your body trembling with anticipation. You wanted more, needed more, as his tongue danced across your sensitive skin. " More " you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

With a groan of desire, Coriolanus plunged deeper into the wet heat between your legs. His tongue delved inside you, exploring every curve and tight spot with precision.

You cried out, gasping as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips began to rock rhythmically against his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

Encouraged by your reactions, Coriolanus pushed further inside you, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers to fill you completely. He moaned around you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

You whimpered, lost in the sensation of his fingers and tongue working in tandem inside you. Your entire being seemed to focus on the exquisite pleasure coursing through you.

" Coriolanus " you cried out, your voice breaking. You could feel the approaching climax building deep within you, threatening to break free.

" Let go " he growled against your skin, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still for his pleasure. You did as he commanded, your body shuddering as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

" Coriolanus " you moaned, your voice still weak with pleasure. You felt him grow hard against your leg, and you knew what he wanted. " Yes " you breathed as he finally gave into his desire, sliding slowly into you. " Yes "

" Fuck " he groaned, his hips bucking forward as he buried himself inside you. You arched your back, meeting his every thrust with equal passion. " So Good " he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

You moaned in agreement, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. You could feel him growing larger inside you, stretching you to new depths. " Harder " you begged, needing more of his strength to drive you over the edge once more.

With a growl, he complied, his powerful strokes claiming your body as his own. The bed beneath you creaked under the force of their lovemaking. Your cries of pleasure echoed through the room, fueling his lust even further.

Coriolanus's fingers dug deeper into your skin, leaving trails of pleasure-pain as he found your sweet spot again and again. Your body felt like it was on fire, consumed by desire for him.

" I want to feel you come apart again " he groaned against your ear, his thrusts erratic with need. Your core clenched around his length, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched in pleasure, your cries echoing through the room.

With one last, powerful thrust, Coriolanus slammed into you, filling you up completely. Your entire body shuddered with the force of your orgasm, clenching around him with unending pleasure.

[minispidey]

BOOKWORMS.

Steven Grant x f!reader.

Author's note: extremely inspired by this post by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction 💅💅something just awakened in me. Shorter than my usual ones but i rushed writing it. Requests are still open babes and some are otw ✨✨✨🤸‍♀️

Summary: Steven fucks you against the bookcase.

Words: 727

Warnings: just smut babes. p in v sex. no use of y/n. some wrong grammar (english is not my first language)

MINORS DNI

"Steven..." you whispered against his lips as you two stumbled inside his flat, hastily shutting the door. Steven would push you against any wall so he could to kiss you deeper, letting his hands roam your body. It so happened that today he decides to push you against one of his bookshelves and throwing your panties somewhere around the flat.

The books pressed against your back as he claimed your lips once more, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intoxicating display of desire "Feeling experimental today...?" you let out a moan as his fingers met your clit.

Steven's breath hitched, his body reacting instinctively to the desire evident in your voice. His lips pulled away from yours, resting his forehead against yours "Do you want to?" he licked his fingers before going back down on your entrance "Want me to fuck you here, love?"

"Yes— oh, fuck... yes..." you whimpered as his point and middle fingers entered you, and his thumb rubbed your clit, making you curl your toes.

"You feel good, love?"

"Yes yes yes..." you repeated, burying your face in the crook of his neck "Please, please fuck me, Steven..."

You were a pathetic sight, babbling and already fucked-out with his three fingers only. He pulls them away, licking your wetness from his fingers.

His lips crashed against yours once more, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth hungrily. The taste of your desire mingled with his own, fueling the fire that burned within him.

With a firm but gentle grip, Steven's hands rested on your waist before hooking his fingers beneath the fabric of your top, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. His touch was electrifying, dragging his knuckles against your skin as he finally took off your top, tossing it away. He quickly unclasps your bra, your nipples immediately hardening from the cold air.

Steven held his head down, resting his nose in between your breasts as he fumbled with his own pants and boxers, taking them off as fast as he could, freeing his hardened cock.

He pumps himself before aligning himself to your entrance, the tip of his cock on your clit. Steven's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of longing and adoration filling his gaze "I love you..." he whispered, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he entered you, the feeling of his hard length filling you completely.

The rhythm of your bodies became a symphony of passion, the bookshelf shaking due to your movements. Steven's thrusts were deliberate and deep, each one driving you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the intoxicating scent of sex, as the world around you faded into oblivion "Fuck, Steven..." you whined, a tear fell from your eye as he pounded into you.

Steven lifts your thigh up, making you wrap your leg around his torso "Jump." when you did, you wrapped both your legs around him and your arms around his neck. He kept fucking you at a harsh pace, both his hands gripping the shelf.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, Steven's focus was solely on your pleasure. His lips trailed along your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving marks as a testament to the passion shared between you. With each thrust, he could feel your body respond, your walls clenching around him, urging him on.

As your climax approached, he quickened his pace, his movements becoming more primal. The crescendo of pleasure washed over you both, waves of ecstasy crashing through your bodies in perfect harmony. In that moment, there was nothing else but the two of you, locked in a passionate embrace against the bookshelf. His cock stayed inside of you and so did his cum until his cock softened.

Afterward, as you both caught your breath, Steven's face softened with a look of tenderness and love. He kissed your forehead lightly while his fingers brushed gently against your cheek. "I love you, my darling," he murmured with all sincerity.

The two of you realized some of the books fell out of the bookshelf because of his rough pounding. You cleared your throat "Was... Was Gus the second watching us this whole time?"

"I guess so, love..."

"He needs therapy."

[acourtofthought]

Chaol and Nehemia offering Aelin their weapons is one of the most heartwarming moments of the first book.

Azriel offering Elain his knife (which he has offered no one else in half a millennia, and which also became the cover photo of ACOWAR alongside an image of roses…) is similarly heartwarming.

So what exactly is the point of your post?

I also find it hilarious that you included a screenshot of this quote - the moment between Chaol and Aelin;

“Far inside of her, she found a golden chain that bound them together.”

That sounds like mate language, no? Similar to the “thread” between Elain and Lucien?

And yet Chaol and Aelin weren’t endgame. 🤷‍♀️

You forgot the part where Az only offered Elain TT because the female he canonically loved begged him with tears in her eyes to sit out of battle. You and I both know had he not agreed to doing what Mor asked he would have never given Elain TT.

I don't remember Chaol being in love with any other female during the scene where he offered his sword, do you? Or Chaol in the very next book going on to look at someone other than Celaena with heat and yearning? No, Chaol was loyal to her before they were together and during the time they were together.

You also forgot the part where Az never offered to give Elain any help though she was concerned about not knowing how to use TT versus Chaol who helped train Celaena. Chaol who laid on the ground next to Celaena during her Duel.

The scene with Celaena and Chaol was heartwarming, much more so than the scene with Elain and Az because of everything mentioned above. Chaol and Celaena were by far the superior ship to E/riel. In literally every way.

But you're right. Chaol and Aelin weren't endgame because she had a mate who was always going to be her destiny. My point was that Sarah has two series featuring two similar scenes where a possible male love interest offers a weapon to a female but that doesn't actually mean anything in terms of endgame. Sarah J Maas is a millionaire because of the Fated Mates stories she writes. It just doesn't hit quite as hard to become a rejected mates author so people claiming the TT scene means Az is Elain's forever? I'm going with no.

Despite Aelin initially wanting Dorian in book 1, despite her later calling Chaol her home and him thinking how 4 years (and not just one taste and that would be it like Az wanted with Elain) might not be enough, these men were not her endgame.

Again, my point is that it doesn't matter how special you think the moments for your ship are, mates are always going to fulfill something for these females that no other male love interest can.

The ACOTAR book had a wolf on the cover but it didn't hint at endgame for Feyre, what's your point?

And no, "chain" is not like mate language considering each Archeron's CONFIRMED bond is described as a thread and we know the golden chain connecting Celaena to Chaol was not a mating bond. You're doing my work for me.

Golden chain is pretty romantic though, maybe a nod to how they might have been right for one another in a different life where there was no such things as fae mating bonds. Much more romantic than "he hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".

You all get so fixated on your multiple books of buildup while forgetting that Sarah J Maas will take many beautiful moments between two characters and throw them out the window in favor of who she wants to be endgame.

Dorian and Chaol had way more moments with Celaena than Az has had with Elain but in the end, they didn't matter.

Like SJM said, it's not about "want" but is about who the FMC needs to be with in order to have the most growth.

"There is a darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to".

[ominoose]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Pairing: Android!Nathan Bateman x GN!Depressed!Reader Summary: Your therapist advises you buy an android as a companion. He's a pain. Warnings: None, just fluff. WC: 1.5k Thank you @jinjersnapz for beta reading :*

The moment he stepped out of the box you wanted a refund. Thinly veiled disappointed creased his eyebrow and tugged down his lips as the android, Nathan, took in the cabin. It wasn't much, that you'd concede, wooden floors, walls and roof with a bathroom, office, kitchenette, living room and bedroom. The basic rooms filled with what one needed to live, or as your therapist called it “bare essentials” and “not willing to take up your own space”. Bullshit, essentially.

And now the result of not listening to said bullshit was taking in your abode like it was a one star Air BnB that posted fake five star reviews. He probably wanted a refund as much as you. That was an accurate description of life since he was shipped into it, ‘I want a refund.’

“You're wasting time.” Said the most annoying alarm clock since the creation of alarm clocks.

You only responded by turning over and pulling the covers over your head before they were ripped off the bed and cold air attacked your now exposed and cold skin.

“Stop spending all your time in bed just to go bitch to your therapist about how you're worthless and your life has no meaning. Either get your ass up or I'll dismantle the bed and hide the screws.”

The petty, blunt asshole would. Last week he messed with the dryer's wiring, leaving your bed sheets wet until you finished your book (that he'd recommended, ordered on your Amazon and held you at laundry point to read), citing “intellectual enrichment” as the reason.

Getting out of bed was rewarded with him asking for a cup of coffee while he worked out (apparently the extra use of his metal tendons strengthened them over time), knowing full well he'd only complain about it being cheap. It was a hellish routine, but a routine nonetheless,  as your therapist annoyingly felt the need to point out every session. Begrudgingly, you'd also be forced to admit it was the truth. He got you out of bed, engaging with the house, energizing yourself and having some sort of start for the day. 

“Why don't we go out for a hike?” Nathan rounded you to grab the steaming cup of coffee, grimacing at the taste. 

Broad shoulders rolled openly, clad in simple grey tank top and black joggers. Despite knowing he had no skin, no actual flesh underneath the tanned synthetic layers stretched over his biceps looked soft enough to bite. Not that you'd let the android know.

“A hike? Outside? Today?” The spontaneous request caught you off guard, already openly reluctant. 

The deadpan stare he gave you behind the silver frames wasn't fond. 

“You live in Butt-Fuck Nowhere and want to just sit in this shitehole. Wasting your innate opportunity to explore nature's beauty.”

“Yeah, I do. Have a fun hike Nathan.” That statement was meant to be closed by you swiftly turning and walking back to your room, but a warm, calloused hand gripped your arm sternly and rooted you to the spot.

“How am I meant to have fun if you aren't there to bug? A walk in nature is an easy hack to ease your disease riddled brain and you don't take advantage of it. It's a wonder androids haven't taken over yet.” 

The way he refused to handle you and your depression like a porcelain doll was something you loathed to love about him. How odd that an arrogant android treated you with the most humanity.

“I'll upload a virus into your cloud if you don't let me go, see who has a ‘disease riddled organ then.”

“An STD threat, how cute. Try successfully updating your Sims mod folder and I'll personally walk you through the virus myself.” Logically, there shouldn’t be a lively spark in his eyes, but it was there all the same, goading you into spats with him, time and time again.

“I bought you, the least you could do is fix my Sims!” Another thing you hated needing from him was the way he fed and stoked your fire, turning you from dying embers to a roaring bonfire. It always happened before you were aware of it, always when he got that cocky smirk as if this was exactly what he wanted.

And following routine he simply walked away, rolling those ridiculously handsome shoulders to add salt to the wound and leaving you to seeth.

“Hurry up and get ready.”

When you finally crested the hill, sun shining down through dark pine trees, birds chirping around you, part of you conceded it was worth it. The other part was whining over the stitch aching at your side.

“God I feel like death.” The panting breaths came out as a fog in the cold forest, but Nathan paid no mind to the temperature or your whining. 

You never once questioned his ability to enjoy the cold whistle of the wind, whether or not he could feel the numbing chill in his finger tips. Why did it matter why his favourite spot was the waterfall, always cold no matter the season, a hint of a smile plucking at synthetic lips when the mist tickled his beard. It didn’t occur that it should matter, but it was noticed by him the way your mouse didn’t entertain the news articles discussing the ethics of how closely androids now resembled a human, drawing comparisons to fictional history of Dune.

Nathan knew more than anyone that you weren’t the academic, whizzkid genius he was. Your mind physically could not scramble through numbers and piece together advanced mathematic equations. You weren’t book smart, but it wasn’t something he considered lacking. 

You dismissed stupid opinions (like the aforementioned article) as if they didn’t exist to you as easily as you stood toe to toe with him to defend other stupid opinions (Aristotle was just some annoying old guy). You were acutely aware of your depression, the way your mind functioned against you and plodded on, taking it in your stride your own way.

As you keeled over, huffing out cold whisps, his dark brown eyes scanned every inch of you. There was no part of you he hadn’t cataloged and stored carefully in his memory banks, no quirk or habit was unfamiliar to him. Yet it always felt like a small surprise to see them unfold in the intimate privacy of the small bubble you both shared.

“Why’re you staring? You better not say I told you so, I’ll ship you back and enjoy going back to my solitude inside.” 

“You wouldn’t have to be alone. You’re pretty enough to coax someone into your little hovel.” Said like a passing comment on the gathering clouds.

“Pretty?” Said as a reaction, completely caught off guard.

“Yeah? How many times do we need to go over how your mind will distort how you perceive reality before you finally listen to me, sweetheart?” How was he managing to still be so condescending while arguing about how beautiful you were, how the softly filtered sunlight through the trees settled against your hair like the sun was made to do just that

No wonder humans had wasted so much time on artsy poetic bullshit since the BC’s, beauty really could be all you had the capacity to think about.

“Based on what? I thought you didn’t abide by societal constructs Mr Bateman?” It was a shoddy attempt at acting normal, but the supercomputer android would’ve already noticed the quiver in your voice and the red dusting your face. Maybe if you pretended you didn’t know he could do that, he just wouldn’t. 

“I’m abiding by my standards.” His eyes stared right into you. The words words hit you right in the stomach, no time to brace.

And he takes advantage of the hesitation.

“We both know I’m capable of noticing when you ogle me when I work out. We both know I'm equipt to sense when your heart rate picks up, which it does every time I lean over your shoulder to correct your shitty work. We both know I can literally measure the heat in your cheeks right now, want me to?” 

The speed at which your head shook had your hair lashing your face, something that only grew his smirk.

“You sure?”

“Fuck yo-” 

His lips were warm when they cut you off, subtly soft in contrast to the calloused hands cupping your face. Your mind instantly jumps to satisfaction that you’d been right in your assumption about the feel of his lips until the actual realisation that he was kissing you kicked in, and by that point he was already pulling away. You didnt even have time to savour how the cold metal of his glasses pressed against your nose.

“Lets go, it’s gonna start pissing down and I hate fogged up glasses.” 

Nathan was already walking back home, back turned until he realised you weren’t already trailing after him. He turned. You were still staring, lips slightly parted and wide eyed, not yet finished processing what had happened. His smirk turned soft.

“C’mon sweetheart, I need my shitty cup of coffee.”

[caesariawritesstuff]

for the follower event ! prompt: discreet sexual tension 4 and/or 9 with detective reader and scarecrow (or eddie if you’d like). i was so excited to see you update cat & mouse, it’s definitely one of my favorite fics ever. keep it up and congrats!! <3

Learning to Share

Summary: Edward and Jonathan have come to an arrangement...one that involves sharing you.

Content Warning: P in V sex, MFM threesome, sexual punishment, begging, jealousy, masturbation, fingering, spanking, discussions about fear. Slight continuation of Damaged Goods.

Word Count: 15.7k

A/N: @a1atheias also requested the “i want you” “then take me” prompt with reader and scarecrow ☺️. This fic got so out of hand and I'm so sorry it's so long!!!! I had an idea and RAN with it. I really hope you enjoy and hope this doesn't suck lmao. Also special thanks to @jkcreation for helping me a bit to figure out how I wanted this to go. Fic is not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse.

Being involved in law enforcement in Gotham ends in several days: death, burn out, turning to drugs and alcohol, being involved in some twisted experiment, or quitting the force entirely seemed to be the usual ways out – so when a member of the GCPD officially made it to retirement after a long, lustrous career – it was something of a celebration.

With a heavy sigh, you looked up at the Cyrus Pinkney Institute for National History and frowned, disdain clear your eyes. Bright lights surrounded the stone building, bathing it in a yellow glow. All around you, Gothamites came and went, laughing and chatting, dates on their arms. Right about now, you’d much rather be in the bubble bath, face mask on and a good book in hand, but alas, being invited to the retirement party of Sergeant Groszek felt a bit like a summons. There would be quite a large number of officers and detectives there, and you did not want to give off the wrong impression and come off as rude – so that was how you found yourself now, wearing an emerald green dress that reached just shy of your fingertips, hugging your curves in all the right places; the balloon sleeves were tight around the wrist and airy around your arms, hanging off your shoulders, revealing your smooth skin. Across the neckline, it dipped low to reveal a tasteful amount of cleavage – one appropriate for an outing like this. Your gaze slid to the left, where Edward tightly had one arm wrapped around your waist, wearing an identical, green-colored suit that complimented your own dress well. He looked quite handsome in his green suit, the material sleek, and his grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging in. You had assured Edward he didn’t have to come with you to this little event, but he insisted. Quite a bit more than usual, but you shrugged away the thought.

Sighing, you looked at him and said, “We don’t have to stay long. Just enough for me to mingle, drop off this card, and then we can get out of here.”

Edward quirked a brow at you, a slow smirk creeping along the edge of his lips. “Don’t worry, detective, I’m sure I can keep myself occupied while you mingle with these simpletons.”

You smirked back, shaking your head, but walked in tandem with him up the stony steps and into the museum, a spring air gusting across your exposed skin. There were signs posted about with arrows leading you towards the private room where the retirement party was being held, and you and Edward followed them with ease, passing by a myriad of exhibits within glass cases. But as you came to the doorway, you sucked in a breath, silently prepping yourself for the onslaught of small talk you were sure you’d be dragged into. This really was the last place you wanted to be. Narrowing your eyes, you looked around at all of the party goers, already chatting up a storm and congratulating Sergeant Groszek on his achievements over his long career. Along the back wall was a display of food catered in: meat and cheese and fruit platters, chips, small finger foods and sandwiches, and a large custom cake. But your eyes instead caught on the bubbly wine being laid out by a caterer – and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. Well, at least there was something you could look forward to here.

You wandered over, slipping out of Edward’s grasp, and snatched up a glass of wine, bringing it to your lips and sipping slowly. When you pulled the glass away, a smudge of bright lipstick stained the rim. Everyone around you was already engaged in hearty conversation, dressed in suits and ties, women in gorgeous dresses. You glanced down at your own, a small smile curving at the edge of your mouth; Edward had handpicked it just for you, just for this occasion. He’d chosen it with quite great care, you’d noticed, and that simple fact made your heart flutter thunderously in your chest, a warmth pool deep in your stomach. Your thoughts were already straying to what it would be like for him to peel it off you when you got home.

“Give me a moment, will you?” Edward asked, his breath at your ear, tickling your skin. You nodded, watching him slip away, somewhere down the hall where the bathrooms were located.

You turned away, gripping the stem of your glass tightly, and wandered over to one of the shadowy corners away from prying eyes. Ever since you started dating Edward, fitting in with your coworkers had become more difficult. Not like you’d ever fully fit in with them in the first place. Frowning, you took an even deeper sip, draining almost half the glass in the process.

“Careful, detective,” a deep, gravelly voice said from beside you, getting your attention. “This is a party, not a brewhouse, correct?”

You lowered your glass just in time to see Jonathan Crane walk up beside you. Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise; you had not expected to find him here, out and about and surrounded by actual people and not vials of chemicals, especially after the…little incident down in the forensics lab at the GCPD a few weeks ago. An incident that had not only left you slightly shaken, irritated, and annoyed – but also turned on. More than you cared to admit. But ever since that moment, you hadn’t been blind to the way Crane watched you with a slow intention, a careful gaze whenever he did manage to come up from the lab. He only ever exchanged a few words for you, but you could feel the tension between you two, crackling like lightning just under the surface. You were not entirely sure what it was about him that drew you to him, but something did, something you were so desperately trying to fight down and not make known.

You studied him closely, taking in his brown suit and tan colored tie, but your eyes lingered for a little too long on his reconstructed face, and the delicate lines etched into his skin, remnants of multiple surgeries he’d been through. But your gaze met his for a slight moment, and you turned away, taking another sip, as if to prove a point.

“Aren’t parties to be enjoyed, Dr. Crane?” you asked, keeping your voice level.

“Parties such as this bore me,” he said.

You smirked, looking down for just a moment. “Yeah, I don’t exactly enjoy parties like this either,” you mumbled. But when you looked up, you scanned the sea of faces for Edward, but found no sign of him. Where is he when I need him? you wondered.

“Why is that?” he asked after a beat.

You scoffed under your breath, once more taking another sip of your drink. “I guess you could say they bore me, too,” you finally answered. At least coming here with Edward was one thing – if only he would turn back up again. Your gaze searched for him once more, but when you saw no sign of him, your heart sunk, a strange aching in your stomach.

“Something bothering you, detective?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, quickly, not wanting to show him an ounce of your discomfort. You certainly didn’t want a man like him getting under your skin. Again.

“Your body language betrays you,” he said. “Are you afraid of something?”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Afraid my boyfriend is getting himself into trouble. You know how Edward is.”

“I walked past him moments ago,” Crane said. “He’s involved in quite the conversation with the Commissioner and the Mayor. Perhaps it will be a while. Why don’t you sit and enjoy yourself for the time being?”

You hesitated, your grip on your wine stem tightening, but you studied him carefully, before your gaze strayed back to the other side of the room. Well…you supposed he was right. Standing here rocking back and forth on your heels wasn’t going to do you any good. It would only serve to make you grow more agitated. Taking another sip of your wine, you sighed, but walked past Crane, searching for an empty seat – and you spotted a small table off to the right, hidden away in a shadowy corner. You quickly sat down and crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in your seat. But to your surprise, Crane followed you and sat at the seat opposite of you. You frowned, your heart leaping into your throat. You immediately looked away, even though you felt his eyes burning holes in your skin.

“Can I help you, Dr. Crane?” you asked after a long moment of silence.

“I’d like to continue our discussion from a few weeks ago,” he said. “I believe it was left…quite unfinished.”

“Ah,” you said, twirling your glass between your fingertips. “Another therapy session.” You leaned back, meeting his gaze, not wanting to back down from his questions. Not this time – you would not give him the satisfaction.

“All right,” you said. “Ask me whatever you want. I’m an open book.”

A low rumble emanated from deep within his throat. “Be careful what you wish for, detective. You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to.”

You smirked. “Try me,” you said. You had been through enough as is over the last few months – some big scary words from Jonathan Crane couldn’t possibly be any harm, now could they? Especially when you already knew his own game, his own obsession with fear – you simply had to keep from falling into his trap, and everything would be fine. If you could handle Edward, then surely you could handle Crane.

“Very well,” he said. “Does it frighten you? Belonging to a man like Edward?”

“No,” you answered, even though that was a bold-faced lie. Being with Edward did frighten you, but you could not allow Crane to know that.

He raised one brow, an impassive look on his face. “Really? Even after all he’s put you through? Even after every single way he’s made you suffer?”

You paused, letting his words sink in – because you couldn’t deny that you had been through a lot with Edward. A lot. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, there was still that tiny bundle of fear knotted deep in your belly, threatening to rise to the surface. Frowning, you sipped your drink slowly, not breaking eye contact with Crane. His gaze remained just as fixated on you, not giving an ounce of his attention anywhere else.

You lowered your drink back to your lap and said, “Surely it must not bother you to watch people suffer. I’m sure you get off on that sort of thing.”

His head cocked slightly to the side. “Rather crude choice of words, detective.”

“Well, am I wrong? I mean…you put people in horrible, fear-toxin induced experiments for what? For fun? You must find some kind of pleasure in that,” you said.

“I find fear fascinating. It controls every aspect of your life. Every thought, every move you make, every decision,” he said. “You came to this party because you feared what your coworkers would think if you did not show up. You came dressed like…that because you feared making the wrong impression. You drink because you’re afraid if you don’t loosen up, you will not be able to enjoy yourself. Do I need to go on?”

You shifted slightly in your seat, holding back the frustrated scream threatening to tear from your throat, biting down on your tongue. You weren’t sure what, exactly, it was that allowed him to so easily pick you apart and claw your fears from in the inside out – but you knew that every single damn word out of his mouth was true.

But you would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Instead, you set your drink on the table and leaned forward slightly, resting your chin between two fingers. “And what if I said you were wrong? That I’m not afraid?”

“Then I would call you a liar,” he replied.

“And what are you afraid of, Dr. Crane?” you asked, a bite in your voice now.

“I fear nothing,” he said. “I have mastered my fears long ago. You, however, wear them on your sleeve for the whole world to see.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering his words. You had not realized just how much, perhaps, you did show off your emotions. Leaning back a little further in your seat, you studied him, carefully choosing your next words, refusing to let him get under your skin. You leaned forward a little more, not breaking eye contact.

“Let me ask you this, then,” you said. “Why are you so interested in my fears? There are plenty of other people at this party you could be bothering. So why me?”

“Curiosity,” he answered. “Fear is my specialty. My life’s work. I have spent years studying what makes people afraid, what their darkest fears contain. And you…you exude fear. It’s practically radiating off of you, like a flame in the darkness.”

You held your tongue, trying so very hard to give him an ounce of what you were feeling right now – that his words were cutting deep into you, making a bubbling hot anger burrow under your skin. Instead, you took another sip of your drink, draining the glass.

You met his eyes again. “And what do you think my fears are, Dr. Crane?”

“You’re afraid of being vulnerable,” he answered. “Of being exposed. Of losing control of the carefully crafted image you have built for yourself.” He paused, his head cocking slightly to the side. “And most of all, detective, I think you’re afraid of me.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, at that one notion – and the awful, horrible truth was that he was right. Edward had done many terrible things, but he’d never bathed Gotham completely in a cloud of fear toxin or driven people to madness, or been the man to unmask Batman and cause so much death and destruction like Crane had. Crane was…different.

And he terrified you.

“Did I strike a nerve?” he asked when you said nothing, his eyes slowly scanning every inch of your face. “Your silence speaks volumes. You present yourself to the world as though you are unbothered, but deep down, you fear how people perceive you. And most of all, you’re afraid of what I’m capable of. You’re afraid of what I might do to you?”

“And what might you to do to me, Dr. Crane?” you asked, your voice low. And in that moment – there was nothing and nobody else in the room. It was just you and him, alone, the air sucked from your lungs, a strange bundle of warmth melding together with the fear in your stomach, shooting all the way down to your clit. The sounds of the party drifted into nothing but faded whispers, long forgotten.

“There are many things I could do to you, detective,” he said, his eyes never once breaking from yours, his voice low. “Things that would have you trembling in fear, quaking underneath the effects of my toxin, begging for mercy. Would you like me to tell you some of the things I could do to you?”

“Very well,” you said – because you refused to budge. You refused to show weakness, especially to someone like him. He could try all he wanted, but he would not frighten you, make you run screaming like a child in the night.

“Seeing is much more effective than hearing, now isn’t it?” he asked.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes finally pulling away to glance down at his hand – as if steadying yourself for the moment he had a vial of his toxin at the ready – but his hands were completely empty. Your gaze shifted back to him again, and underneath the table, your legs began to tremble out of your control. Fear was a cold knot in your stomach, turning your blood to ice, causing a clamminess to crawl across your skin.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his gaze lowering slightly. “Is it fear, or something else?”

“I’m just cold,” you said quickly, attempting to brush him off.

“Is that so?” he asked, one of his brows raised in clear disregard for what you said. “Your body is showing signs of clear distress. Dilated pupils. Flushed skin. Or is it not distress you’re feeling, detective, but something…else?”

Shit. How was he so capable of reading you so easily? You narrowed your eyes, anger rushing hot through every limb, spreading like wildfire through your veins – but beyond that, there was a spark of something rippling just under the surface, something dark and wicked stirring to life in your heart, reawakening your darkest fantasies.

“Something akin to arousal?” he continued.

You sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. “That’s a ridiculous insinuation,” you murmured, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Fear and arousal often go hand in hand,” he said, his voice low, smooth.

“Or, perhaps, you’re completely misreading my physiological responses,” you said.

“Ah, yes,” he said, almost with a bored sigh. “And what, pray tell, do you think is causing this…physiological response of yours?”

“Adrenaline,” you answered, quickly. “It makes your heart beat faster. Makes you shake, makes your pupils dilate. That sort of thing.”

“But that’s not what this is, is it, detective?” he asked, raising his brows. “You’re not in any danger. You’re not preparing to flee. No, this is something much more…intimate.”

There was something in the way the word intimate rolled off his tongue, so full of dark possession, that your insides squirmed, that excitement rushed through your veins, molding together with a hot anger burning brightly inside of you.

“I doubt you’re one to talk about the specifics of intimacy, Crane,” you said, finally.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, burning that flame even brighter inside of you, causing it to stir to life. The way he was looking at you – studying you – as if you were a lab rat, made your skin crawl. But it wasn’t just the way his cold, calculating gaze studied you, it was the way his words dug into your skin, picking you apart piece by never-ending piece. And here you were, finding yourself sucked into his words, into his every display of intelligent superiority, in a way that was not boastful or full of ego – the complete opposite of Edward.

Edward. Shit. Where even was he? You suddenly backed away, looking around the room once more, searching for him – but still, you saw no sign of him. No green suit stood out amongst the sea of black and blues and browns. And instead of going off to find him, you were sitting here in your own little bubble with Jonathan Crane, feeling a pulsing in your clit, a dampening between your thighs – because he was right. So fucking right.

You were completely fucking aroused.

And you were done with this conversation.

Scowling, you quickly stood up. “Thank you for this enlightening conversation, Dr. Crane. But I’m going to find my boyfriend now,” you said. Turning on your heels, you stormed across the room and searched for any sign of Edward, but there was still none.

Groaning under your breath, you made your way back over to the drink table and snatched up another glass of wine, sipping slowly, trying to clear your mind and body of all thoughts of Jonathan Crane. Bastard, you thought. How dare he put you in such a compromising position, make you feel so vulnerable, as if you were on display for the world to see? You took another sip of your drink, relishing in the taste, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you – a different one, an unfamiliar one, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Crane standing behind you, just inches away. Nerves trickled up your spine and you shuddered, that delicious heat once more pooling in your belly at his proximity, at the smell of his cologne, at his cruel gaze, which was once more fixated on you.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips: a soft, featherlight touch, but enough to make the breath catch in your throat, a small gasp escape your lips – especially when you felt him brush against your backside.

His lips were suddenly at your ear, “Come with me.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, and for the first time, you saw the very delicate hint of a smile curved at the edge of his lips. Barely there, but noticeable enough – and there was something in his gaze that made warmth pool in your belly, made your heart thump so quickly you could hardly stand it.

Follow me, his cruel gaze said. But it was not a suggestion. It was a command.

Hesitantly, you set your drink back down, searching the crowd once more for Edward, but you could not find him. You were growing angrier by the second, a hot prickling underneath your skin like you were being stabbed by a hundred knives. Following Crane was a stupid idea, but you needed to put an end to this…whatever this strange attraction was, and you did not want to make a scene here, in front of all of these people. They already thought badly enough of you as is.

Jonathan slipped through the crowd, disappearing out of your view, but you weaved through the sea of people to follow him, coming to one of the quiet halls of the museum. He was already ahead of you, leading the way, and you scowled, stomping after him, fire burning in your veins, turning your blood to molten liquid. He wandered down one corridor, disappearing around one corner, and you quickened your steps – but just as you came around, his hand was suddenly on your wrist, the other at your throat, pushing you gently against the wall. You gasped, a wave of fear washing over you as he pressed you against the glass of an exhibit.

“Ssh,” he said quietly, deep in his voice. “You don’t want the others to hear us, now do you?” His cold, blue eyes studied your face with a strange intensity.

“What game are you playing at, Crane?” you hissed. “If Edward finds out about this—”

“Edward already knows about this,” he said, cutting you off.

You blinked, surprised, taken aback by his words. You sucked in a slow, steadied breath, trying desperately to control your breathing, your heartrate, your fear. “What?”

“I have asked for his permission,” he said lowly, his breath tickling at your skin.

“To do what?” you whispered, terror clawing up your throat.

“To share you,” he answered without hesitation.

If this was any other man, you might have laughed. Might have believed this was some sort of sick joke – but this was no ordinary man. It was Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, and he was not a joking man. Every inch of his expression was passive. Emotionless. Serious.

He was utterly, utterly serious.

“Edward would never share me,” you whispered, feeling hot defiance rise in your belly.

“Perhaps not with any of the other denizens of Gotham,” he said. “But with me…I’m a different matter entirely.”

You couldn’t help it – your jaw dropped open as confusion and terror and all clawed at you at once, digging into your insides, causing that horrible warmth to pool in your stomach, to travel its way down to your aching clit. Being pinned against the wall like this – trapped – it sent you spiraling, in that way that flared to life your darkest desires, fanning the flames of pleasure and excitement and wanton need.

“You don’t believe me?” Jonathan said after a moment. “Perhaps you should ask Edward yourself.” His fingers finally loosened from around your neck, the digits sliding off delicately, taking his time as he let you go. He took one step back and gestured to a private, out of the way office, far from the festivities taking place.

You hesitated, curling your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms. You had every reason to smack him right then and there – but you would not allow him to see your fear, to see how frightened you truly were. If this was true…you wanted to hear it straight from Edward’s own mouth. Turning on your heels, you stormed into the office – and sure enough, you found Edward sitting in the chair, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other in a lazy-like position – the very epitome of a man with too big of an ego. And the boyfriend you kind of wanted to knock over the head right about now.

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Edward,” you said, a bite in your voice. “Is what he says true?”

A hazy look filled his eyes, and he smirked. “Yes, detective. Crane is telling the truth. We have…come to an arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement?” you asked carefully. As the words slipped from your mouth, you glanced back to find that Jonathan had shut and locked the door behind him. Another bolt of fear and excitement rushed through you as a thousand questions rang through your mind. This couldn’t possibly be going where you thought it was going, could it?

“One that involves you, my dear,” Edward replied. “You see, Crane here has taken quite an interest in you. He finds you…how should I put it, fascinating? You know Crane, always needing to study everything around him.” He waved his hand, scoffing under his breath.

“I’m not something to be studied,” you said, angrily.

“Come now, detective,” Jonathan said, stepping forward until he was standing side-by-side with you, his arms crossed behind his back. His gaze roved carefully over you, inch by inch, making your skin crawl with a delicious heat.

“Edward is right. I find you quite fascinating,” he continued, taking a step closer to you. One of his hands snaked out, grasping your chin between two fingers. “There’s something about you that has Edward so trapped under your spell. You have a power over him, a power I can’t explain. And I need to know why. I need to understand it…to taste it. To taste you.”

You shuddered against his touch, the urge to step back all consuming, but when your gaze slid to Edward – it was as if he pinned you there completely, not daring you to budge an inch. As if he wanted you there, in Crane’s grasp, in this very moment, at their mercy. Jonathan’s grip tightened on your chin, forcing you to look back at him.

“You’re not something to be studied, detective,” Crane said. “You’re something to be enjoyed. And Edward here has finally learned to share.”

His words were like lightning through you, sparking to life a powerful heat in your belly, an aching, a desperate need to be consumed. But no words would come out of your mouth, and you stood there in silent horror and awe, completely unable to process what was happening in this moment. You could not believe their boldness – to think how easily they lured you away to have this discussion, to be used as if you were some kind of plaything.

Your gaze flicked to Edward again. You should be enraged. Insulted. But instead, you’re standing here, your mind completely blank of what to do or even say – the only coherent thought you can even come up with is the very real realization that your clit is throbbing, aching, at the very thought of being taken by these two men – these two very dangerous men – and used in whatever way they desire. The very idea that they both were fascinated with you left a fire burning in your belly, stirring awake those dark desires in your heart.

“Is this true, Edward?” you finally managed to ask.

He nodded, slowly. “Admittedly, I would prefer not to share you, but…” He paused, as if choosing his next words carefully. “Crane can be quite persuasive, and I find myself curious to see what the Master of Fear is capable of doing to you. Can he touch you the way I do? Make you cum the way I do? Make you scream his name the way I make you scream mine?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you shivered at his words – because you can’t help but he just as curious, too. Your gaze strayed back to Crane once more, finding him continuing to study you with a close eye, a curious gaze, as if wondering the same thing Edward was.

You shook your head, scoffing under your breath. “And how long have you been having this discussion behind my back?”

“Long enough,” Crane answered. His grip never lessened on your throat.

Long enough. His words echoed on a loop in your mind. You did not appreciate being spoken about behind your back – and as outraged as you should have been, you could not help but feel just a bit drawn to this situation entirely, to the possibilities that could arise from such an…arrangement. But you were supposed to be with Edward. He was your boyfriend. Something about doing this did not feel right; it felt like a betrayal, in a way. Your gaze flickered back to him, studying his face, but you had come to know Edward well enough that he was completely and utterly serious.

“What if I say no?” you asked.

“If you were going to say no, you would have walked out of this room already, detective,” Crane said. “You would not have followed me into a dark, secluded hallway. You would not have followed me into this room. You would not be here now, allowing me to touch you.” As if to prove his point, his fingers slid down your throat in a smooth motion, once more grasping the question mark pendant draped around your neck. He stroked it with his thumb, but once he let it go, he reached out with two fingers, placing them onto your pulse point.

“Racing heart,” he murmured. “You’re not afraid of us, are you, detective?”

“No,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly. Your fears about being around Edward had faded away into whispers long ago. But…

“Or,” Jonathan continued. “Are you afraid of me?”

The breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening. Because, the truth was right there, staring you right in the face: you were afraid of Jonathan Crane. He terrified you, caused horror to race through you like lightning, to bundle up in a cold knot in your stomach. Finally, you took a step back, needing a moment to distance yourself. You crossed your arms over yourself, shaking your head as another low scoff escaped your mouth. This was an absurd proposition. Asinine. What they were asking…what Edward was asking…

You spun around on your heels, walking away from Jonathan and over to the desk, wearing Edward remained, still watching you carefully. You opened your mouth to say something – anything – any kind of insult or rage-filled words. But nothing came out. Because as angry as you were, you still felt it: the strange, magnetic pull to both of these dangerous men. And as afraid as you were, your own curiosity could not be ignored.

“What are you afraid of, detective?” Jonathan asked, his cool voice filling the quiet room. “Being shunned? Made to feel like our plaything? Losing your precious paramour in the process as another man claims you for himself?”

“Another man,” you said silently, glancing over your shoulder. “Meaning you.”

Jonathan only answered with a sly smile curving at the edge of his lips.

“I know this is quite a lot to ask of you so suddenly,” Edward said, his voice gentle. “But I assure you, detective, nothing will change between us.”

So suddenly, you wanted to say, but held your tongue – as a slow realization washed over you. Over the last few weeks, your sexual tension around Jonathan had been growing more than you realized – perhaps because they’d been planning this moment for some time. The looks Jonathan had given you over the last few weeks, the words he’d spoken – it had all been a part of their plan, and you’d been blind to see it. You glared down at Edward, anger rushing hot through your veins like a wildfire.

Footsteps behind you got your attention, and before you could react, Jonathan was suddenly behind you. You felt his breath on your neck, before one of his hand snaked around your shoulder, once more grabbing at your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Another bolt of worry shot through every limb – but what was worse was the heat that traveled all the way down to your groin, aching, dampening arousal between your thighs.

“I can see it in your eyes, detective,” Jonathan said. “You want this as much as we do. You need this. To be wanted. Needed. Craved.” His breath tickled at your skin, each word out of his mouth making chills run up and down your spine.

Because the goddamn truth was that he was right.

All your life, you’d dreamed of being desired, wanted, needed. Feared being unloved, used, cast aside as nothing. And now, to have two dangerous men wanting you, so much that they were willing to share you…it caused a ripple of delicious heat to pool in your core. It stirred to life all of this wicked desires in your heart, driving you to the brink of madness. And the worst part was that Jonathan Crane had you completely and utterly figured out. It was like he could see straight down into your soul, finding your fears with just one look, and whisper them in your ear, revealing them to you in all their frightening glory.

Angrily, you scowled, yanking your chin from his grasp once more, crossing your arms over yourself. As much as they wanted you to play this game with them, you would not give in so easily – not without understanding the terms of this…arrangement. Slowly, you turned back around, glancing at both of them; they stood there with hungry looks in their eyes, as if waiting for your next move, the next words out of your mouth. You wandered back over to the desk and hoisted yourself onto it, crossing one leg over the other, placing your hands behind you to keep yourself propped up. Jonathan regarded you with a raised brow, as if interested in your next move. Good, you thought. If they could play this game, you could play it, too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Edward sit up a little straighter from his spot at the desk. You glanced at him, then back at Jonathan; both their eyes were narrowed, full of curiosity, mirroring the same expression of patience and hungry interest.

“Well,” you finally said after a long moment. “What exactly are the terms of this arrangement you two made behind my back?”

Edward pushed back from the desk, quickly standing as he said, “The terms are simple, my dear. I am so generously sharing you with Crane – with your approval, of course. He must ask for my permission if he would like to have you for an evening.”

He took a step closer, reaching forward, capturing your chin between his fingers, running his thumb along your bottom lip in a way that made heat pool in your core. “And you, my dear, are not allowed to play favorites. We both shall have equal access to you – at all times. Whenever we want. How we want. Wherever we want.”

You sucked in a slow, controlled breath, letting his words wash over you as that delicious heat throbbed between your legs. The very idea of being taken by these two men – one who had a hold on your heart, the other you still weren’t sure yet – but the very idea excited you.

And angered you.

You narrowed your eyes, meeting Edward’s gaze. “I’m not a toy to be passed around,” you said, a bite in your voice now.

“Of course not,” Edward said, his thumb now slowly stroking right below your bottom lip with care. “This is an arrangement that will benefit all of us. “Our curiosities will be satisfied, and you shall be quite satisfied, detective.” He smirked, that tricky glint in his eyes gleaming.

You looked away again, your gaze straying somewhere far across the other side of the room. A thousand words hung on your lips, but you could not seem to get them out. You had so many questions, but your mind was drawing a blank, too wrapped up in your own terror and excitement and desire. To be so…needed. Wanted. Desired. By these two men…it alighted a fire within you, awakening so many dark desires in your heart, bringing to life a darkness that resided in the very depths of your soul. You shivered against Edward’s touch, trembling, fear and desire pooling in your stomach, melding together as one.

“Is it fear or desire that makes you tremble so?” Jonathan asked, stepping forward.

“Both,” you answered, because that was the honest truth.

They exchanged a look, and Edward’s hand slipped from your chin. He finally took a step back, disappearing into the dark shadows of the office to lean against the wall and cross his arms, making room for Jonathan to step in front of you now. He studied you with a careful eye, his gaze roaming every inch of your skin.

“Dilated pupils. Flushed skin,” he said quietly, as if more to himself, but his gaze dropped to your chest, pausing there for a moment; you glanced down, realizing that your nipples had hardened, slightly poking through the fabric of your dress.

Jonathan glanced back at you. “Signs of your arousal are clearly evident.”

Your gaze slid from Jonathan back to Edward, who was watching the entire interaction silently, his head cocked slightly to the side. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the blood rushing through your ears, the warmth between your legs – Jonathan was clearly right. You were aroused. You were terrified.

And you were also completely at their mercy.

Your gaze shifted back to Jonathan. “And what exactly do you want out of this, Crane?”

He took another slow, calculated step forward until he was but millimeters from you. Slowly, his hand reached out once more to capture your chin between two fingers, slightly lifting your face to look directly into your eyes.

“I want you,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “But I will not unless you give me permission. Such brutalities are far beneath me. I will only touch you if you say so.”

He was but millimeters away from you, and you hesitated, a sharp breath leaving your lips. You glanced over Jonathan’s shoulder once more, searching for Edward, and he gave you a slow nod. Giving his permission. But if you went down this route, you knew the utter truth: there would be no going back. There would be no way to forget this happened. Edward already had his claws in you, and if you allowed Crane to do the same…there would be no changing that. You would be theirs – both of theirs – completely.

And, perhaps, the truth was that you wanted to be.

You glanced back at Jonathan. “Then take me,” you whispered.

That was all he needed. In an instant, his lips were on yours, crushing, bruising. One of his hands grabbed your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. His other hand snaked up, threading itself in your hair, tugging lightly. His kisses were not gentle – they were rough, possessive, his tongue invading your mouth with almost a brutal possessiveness. You gasped lightly, your tongue meeting his, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as his mouth moved from your lips, across your jaw, down your neck. His lips were rough from scarring, and he smelled of a strange mixture of musk and woods, the scent invading your nose. His teeth nipped at your neck, his tongue snaking out to massage each small bite, as if soothing your flesh. Slowly, testing, you spread your legs slightly, allowing him to nestle himself in between them – and you could already feel the hardness of his own arousal suddenly pressing against your core. You leaned into him, arching your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth and teeth found that sensitive spot on your neck – the one that made you crumble beneath him. You shuddered against him, his body hard and lean – leaner than Edward’s, and you found yourself comparing the way Jonathan kissed you to the way Edward did.

A low rumble escaped Jonathan’s mouth, and his onslaught of kisses continued, working their way across the delicate flesh of your collarbone. He brushed your necklace aside and let his tongue drag across your skin, causing a shudder to pass through you. His tongue was warm, wet, sending a delicious heat rippling across every inch of your body, shooting pleasure all the way down to your clit. You gasped as he brought his lips up the other side of your jaw, as if to savor the other side of your face, his teeth nipping once more at your skin.

Opening your eyes slightly, you found Edward continuing to watch with a strange curiosity in his gaze, his eyes narrowed and focused on the scene at hand. At watching another man touch you, have his way with you – sending another tremble through you, bundling fear deep in your core, tightening in your stomach.

Just then, Jonathan’s hand gripped your chin once more, forcing you to look back at him, his eyes cold and calculating. “Don’t look at him, pet,” he said quietly. “Focus on me. Or are you afraid of what he might be thinking?”

The sharp intake of breath made you tremble again, and you licked your lips before saying, “Yes…I’m afraid.”

“No need to be afraid,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “Fear is good. It reminds you of the dangers that surround you. After all, you’re here with us, aren’t you? You have every right to be afraid.”

You were quiet for a beat – because you were afraid of where this would lead, what would come of it, what Edward would think to watch as you were ravished by another man. But your own curiosity, your own pull towards Jonathan, was too much to bear, too confusing, further drawing you into that darkest part of yourself that you did not want to admit to.

His grip on your chin tightened. “Fear governs everything you do,” he continued. “And it also gives way to more…primal desires, detective. Desires you try to deny yourself. Desires you do not want to admit to, that frighten you. Am I correct?”

“Yes,” you whispered, knowing every word out of his mouth was right.

His cold eyes narrowed, and he backed away slightly, studying you carefully. His cold, cruel gaze was enough to cause your trembling body to tremble even more, to cause panic swelling in your stomach. A part of you desperately wanted to bolt out of this room, to flee, but you were glued to the spot – your desire too great to ignore. You fought the urge to look over at Edward again, despite how great your curiosity was, and kept your eyes fixated on Jonathan instead, watching as his hand snaked up to stroke at your face, in a motion that could be disguised for gentle, but you saw it for what it was: complete control. His hand brushed across your cheek – before suddenly gripping into your hair once more, tangling in your strands, his nails digging slightly into your scalp in that painful, pleasurable sort of way. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his roughness, and you trembled against him.

His eyes roved over you carefully, as if taking every inch of you in, as if trying to figure out what to do with you next. You couldn’t help but wonder how experienced he was, how many men or women he’d been with, what kind of things he was into. You smirked, a heat of desire pulsing in your belly at the way he looked at you with such primal intention.

“Undress,” he finally said, a low command, leaving no room for arguing.

You blinked, a bit taken aback, but your gaze slid to the door. “What if someone—”

“It’s been taken care of,” Edward spoke up. “No need to worry, my dear. No one will be coming into this room to disturb us.”

Your gaze flickered back to Jonathan. His expression was emotionless, unyielding, not giving away anything to what he might be thinking. He was completely and utterly controlled. Fear knotted in your stomach, but with trembling hands, you slipped out of your dress. The cool air brushed across your naked skin, your nipples growing hard; you shimmied out of the dress and let it pool at the bottom of the desk, leaving you in nothing but a lacy green thong that you’d specifically picked out for Edward. The heavy swell of your breasts were revealed for both men to see, and Jonathan’s eyes immediately dropped to your pert, pink nipples. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the dampness of your own arousal between your legs. Every part of you was on high alert, on edge, teetering over the precipice of fear and terror. You had never done this before – never had sex while another man watched, especially if that other man was your own boyfriend, and you were in a room with two of Gotham’s most dangerous men, but that was beside the point.

Slowly, Jonathan reached out, testing the weight of your left breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the nipple gently. You sucked in a soft breath at the small jolt of pleasure that radiated through your breast. His hands were rough, calloused, and he pinched your nipple between two fingers, earning another gasp from you. You trembled at his touch, at the fire his fingers left in their wake across your skin. His eyes were narrowed, studying your reaction, and you titled your head back slightly, arching your back so he had better access to your breasts. He cupped the other breast in his hand, needing and palming at it, his touch growing rougher and more needy by the second. A low whine left your lips, and you closed your eyes, relaxing into his touch – but just as you did, you felt his hand at your throat again.

“Eyes on me, pet,” he said, and your eyes snapped open, another jolt of fear radiating throughout your body. You met his gaze again, studying the emotionless expression on his face, as his fingers trailed downward, carefully grazing down your stomach to the hem of your thong.

He glanced at you again, then back down, before slowly lowering to his knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you shuddered as his gaze never left yours. Your breaths were shallow, uncertain, nerves and fear writhing in your belly like a parasite. Slowly, he leaned in, snaking his tongue out to delicately brush across your inner thigh – only inches away from where you most wanted him to be. His tongue ran lines down your inner thigh, tracing in circular patterns, before reaching back up to the bend of your leg – and then, suddenly, he bit down.

You gasped at the sudden pain, jolting slightly, trembling in both pain and pleasure at the sharpness of his teeth. But as quickly as the bite came, so did his tongue once more, swirling around the bite as if to soothe it. You glanced at Edward once more, finding him still standing there, watching with a curious, lustful gaze in his eye. You glanced down at his groin, noticing the hardness of his own erection in the confines of his trousers, and your insides warmed at the idea of him being turned on by this entire interaction – even if there was a lingering jealousy in his gaze. You smirked slyly, spreading your legs a little further for Jonathan to have access to. He glanced up at you from in between your legs, before rising back up. The look in his eyes was full of a cold, cruelness to them, not a hint of warmth in his cloudy gaze – and just that look made you tremble more, made the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. You were sure if he could devour you whole, he would.

Suddenly, his hand shot out once more, and his hands tangled in your hair once again, fingers digging tightly in. “Show me how you pleasure yourself, detective.”

His words took you aback, but your mouth fell open slightly in surprise. You hesitated, but slowly reached in between your legs. Pushing your thong aside slightly, you dove two fingers into your own wetness. With your other hand, you used one finger to swirl around your clit in slow, meticulous motions, causing a bolt of pleasure to shudder through you. It surged through your thighs, down to the tips of your toes, across every inch of your skin, and your mouth dropped open silently as you continued to fuck yourself with your own fingers. He watched silently, before he leaned forward, his lips at your ear.

“Does it frighten you, detective? To have two men watch you while you pleasure yourself?” he whispered lowly. “To see you completely unraveled, vulnerable, at our mercy?”

You shuddered at his words, trying to fight the fear coursing through your veins. Trying to keep some shred of dignity you still had left. As if in answer, your gaze flickered past Jonathan and over to Edward, who still remained bathed in the shadows, watching with strange look in his eyes.

“Don’t look at him,” Jonathan barked out, his voice low and cruel. “Focus on me, pet.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, and a low gasp escaped your lips as ripples of pleasure bundled underneath your skin. Every inch of you was on fire, your brain going fuzzy from the pleasure of your own fingers working their magic against you in just the way you liked. You could feel yourself builder higher and higher towards a release – and having two men watch you made it all the more sweeter.

Jonathan reached forward, snaking his hand through your hair once more, tightening his fingers at your scalp. You gasped as he pulled onto the strands, tilting your head back slightly, his cold gaze never leaving yours for an instant.

“Is it the thrill of being watched that makes you tremble like this?” he asked lowly, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble. “Or the danger?”

The only answer you gave was a soft gasp. Heat flushed across your skin. Here you were: propped up on this desk, your legs spread wide, revealing the most vulnerable part of yourself for both men to see. Wetness coated your fingers, and you pumped two fingers in and out of yourself, gasping in tandem at the way your other finger swirled around your clit. Pleasure bundled in your stomach, tightening in your abdomen, knots of pure ecstasy rising higher and higher with each stroke, each thrust, each motion.

Jonathan studied you carefully, his eyes roving over every inch of your body, pausing to watch you fuck yourself. He showed no signs of emotion across his face, and you couldn’t even tell if he was enjoying watching this. Your fingers began to slow slightly, wondering if he was growing bored with this, but his cold voice filled the room once more.

“Does it scare you, detective?” he asked, leaning forward, his lips just brushing the shell of your ear. “To be so completely at the mercy of two men who are watching you right now?”

His words sent another rippled of fear down your spine. It tightened in your stomach, molding together with your pleasure, causing your heart to beat like a wild animal against your ribcage. Sweat beaded on your brow as your entire body flushed from head to toe, sending a shiver across your skin. Your breath quickened at his question, your fingers slowing their movements as you considered his question—

“I did not say you could stop,” Jonathan said, his voice a low command.

The words out of his mouth made you pause for a millisecond, before you resumed the work of your fingers: pumping in and out of yourself, swirling your finger around your clit. You leaned back a little more against the table, but his fingers in your hair did not let up, only tightened harder, sending a small ripple of pain across your skull. You were completely at his mercy, just his words enough to edge you closer to the brink. Your fear melding together with the pleasure in a strange kind of concoction – somehow enhancing your pleasure in a way you’d never experienced before. You snuck another glance at Edward, and he stood back, his eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line. But that look – of knowing your own boyfriend was watching another man do this to you, it sparked another bolt of fear down your spine, and yet at the very same time, it turned on you to heights you’d never experienced before. Jonathan’s hands released from around your hair, and he stepped back slightly, just enough to take in the full sight of you in your needy, wanton mess.

“Find your release, detective,” he said. “But keep your eyes on me as you do.”

You nodded, barely, breathless as your eyes found his cold, cruel gaze once more. He was staring at you as if you were a bug under his feet, something to be squashed entirely. Fear knotted in your belly, creeping up your spine – but you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers, quickening your pace as your climax teetered right on the edge – and suddenly, the little bundle of pleasure grew higher and higher – before exploding throughout your body. You gasped, crying out as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure coursed through your body. Your legs and hips bucked as you continued to work your fingers against yourself, chasing the rest of your high. But as the sensations trickled away, you finally removed your hands and relaxed against the desk, sucking in slow, deep breaths. Every inch of your skin was on fire, and a flush crept across your skin. You raised your eyes to him, looking back and forth between the two men, feeling completely exposed and raw and vulnerable. You’d never…touched yourself in front of two men before, not like this. Not when there were two pairs of eyes to look at you.

“Very good, detective,” Jonathan said quietly, but his voice held no ounce of praise. Just that patented cold, calculating nature to it. “Now. On your knees.”

You sat up a bit, sucking in a breath, a funny feeling at what he wanted next arising within you. You fought against looking at Edward once more, despite your every instinct screaming to, and slowly, you pushed yourself off the desk and lowered to your knees in front of Jonathan. Your knees knocked together, your entire body trembling. It wasn’t like you’d ever given a man a blowjob before – but something about this…about giving it to a man like Jonathan while Edward watched…it was frightening. Terrifying.

And exhilarating, all at the same time.

Jonathan was quiet as he reached down, undoing the buckle of his belt. With only a few smooth moves of his deft fingers, he slipped his cock from his pants: engorged, glistening with precum at the tip. Your eyes widened at the sight. He wasn’t quite as long as Edward, but he was a bit girthier, and thin, throbbing veins ran along his shaft. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your body prickling with heat as you gazed up at him.

“Open your mouth,” he said, another command. “And let me in.”

Your mouth opened slightly, a moment of hesitation, before you opened your jaw a little wider. His tip approached you carefully, before his cockhead slid into your mouth. Inch by inch, he slid himself inside of you. You wrapped your mouth around him, breathing through your nose as you massaged the underside of his member with your tongue. One of his hands came to tighten itself in your hair again, his nails digging into your scalp. He tasted of salt and sweat and skin, a brown patch of curls poking through the confines of his pants. He filled your mouth completely, and he slid in and out of you with careful strokes.

“Detective,” he said, almost a groan. “I believe you know what to do, yes?”

You nodded, gazing up at him while he remained in your mouth. Using your other hand, you wrapped it around his shaft, pumping slowly in combination with your mouth and tongue. A low groan escaped his lips as you worked against his length, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly at the intrusion, but breathed through your nose. Soft groans escaped his lips, and when you looked up again, you found his head tilted back slightly, still gazing down at you, watching your every move. You moaned softly around his member, taking him all the way in, over and over again. His fingers tightened in your hair as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and you smirked, watching him come undone. It was quite a sight to behold: the Master of Fear with his head titled back, losing himself to the pleasure you offered. You moaned against his length again, taking him deeper, faster, and he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth in tandem slowly and meticulously, every movement of his precise and controlled. Your core warmed, arousal dampening in between your legs, and your gaze flickered to Edward, still standing in the shadows with a narrowed, lustful gaze. Warm pleasure pooled in your core, and you fought the urge to reach down and touch yourself again, too busy giving Jonathan the pleasure he so craved at this very moment.

Just as you began to quicken your pace, he suddenly pulled back, slipping himself from your mouth. You glanced up at him, a bit surprised at how he’d pulled away, and a bout of disappointment rippled through you. His member was coated in your saliva, glistening in the light. You sat back on your knees, his taste lingering on your tongue.

Jonathan reached down, placing a hand across the top of your head, trailing his fingers down your cheek and to your chin, where he lifted your head up slightly. “That pretty mouth of yours has certainly had a bit of practice, now hasn’t it?” He glanced at Edward for a moment.

Edward’s smirk grew, his lustful gaze twinkling. “Jealous, Crane?”

A bolt of pleasure knotted in your stomach again, and a sense of pride swelled inside of you, as if happy to be pleasing Edward by doing this – even if this was sucking off another dangerous man, one who made you tremble with fear. You weren’t sure what Crane was going to do next, but that fear further increased inside of you, balling into a cold, hard knot at the center of your ribcage. But more than that, you feared how Edward was thinking, feeling, if he was going to lash out in a jealous rage and take you for his own.

“Look at me,” Jonathan said again, forcing your eyes back to him. His head cocked slightly to the side, as if studying you with cruel intention. “Do you fear what he might be thinking? That you’re here, servicing me instead? Or…do you wish it was him in my place?”

You can’t help how much your trembling, a cold chill brushing across your naked flesh. Your teeth are practically chattering with the fear – and you can’t even bring yourself to answer him, to make your terror known. But you can see it in his eyes: how much he’s enjoying your fear, your terror, and you can’t pull your eyes away.

His grip tightened on your chin. “Answer me,” he said.

“I…” you struggled to find the words. “I…I’m afraid of what he’s thinking. I’m afraid he’s going to look at me like…” You paused, the words stilling in your mouth, heavy on your tongue. Like I’m nothing but his plaything. Like a whore. Like a toy to be passed around.

Jonathan quirked a brow, seeming to understand what you were going to say. But his hand finally dropped from your chin, and he took a step back, tucking himself into his pants. “Like what?” he asked, a cruel smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.

Great. He was going to make you say it. Of course he was.

“Like I’m a whore,” you whispered. “Like I’ll be…tainted after this. Like he won’t want me anymore.” The words tumbled out of you, and it took you a moment to realize you were shaking, your fears bundling deep in your stomach, spreading a coldness through your limbs.

“Tainted?” Jonathan asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. “My dear, you were tainted by Nigma the very moment you let his cock enter you. The moment you spread your legs for him, every inch of you was poisoned by his narcissist, egotistical nature.”

Edward scoffed under his breath, a sound of disgust. “I’m sure that speech will really get her going, Crane,” he said.

Jonathan glanced back at Edward. “Why don’t we see, hmm?” His gaze shifted back to you once more. “Back on the desk, pet. And remove that silly little thing.” He nodded to your thong, now soaked through.

Nodding, you stood and slowly slipped out of the thong, stepping out of it one leg at a time. You let it fall onto the floor atop your dress, heat burning your cheeks, spreading through every inch of your flesh. Your skin was on fire with desire and terror and everything in between. You hoisted yourself back onto the desk, using your arms to prop yourself up behind you.

Jonathan met your gaze once more. “Spread your legs.”

His command was not gentle. There was no warmth to his voice, no seduction, just a pure, calculated coldness. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you listened, spreading your thighs apart, revealing your most intimate spot. His gaze rove over your naked body, before landing on your womanhood. He took a step closer, resting one hand on your thigh, his fingers digging in. With the other hand, he tentatively reached forward, stroking at your wet folds with a curious carefulness. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for what he might do next; he brushed aside your folds, toying with them, before he slid two fingers into you. A soft breath escaped your lips as his long digits filled you, and slowly, he pulled them back – and then inserted them again, repeating the motion over and over again in a slow manner.

“So wet,” he mumbled, as if he was making an observation and you were an experiment. He continued the slow motions of his fingers, in and out, in and out, and you tilted your head back slightly, soft gasps escaping your lips.

“Touch yourself, detective,” he said, his voice once more a command. “I want to see you find your release on my fingers.”

You didn’t hesitate – you were too caught up in this, in the heat and desire, to argue. Your finger immediately found your clit, and you began stroking yourself in the motion you enjoyed. As you did, his fingers began to pump out of you harder, faster, at a furious pace, fucking you. You gasped at the sensation of his fingers and you stroking your clit – together in tandem, slowly bundling pleasure in your core. Sweat beaded down your brow and soft gasps and moans escaped your lips out of your control. You titled your head back, not daring to shut your eyes, fearing Jonathan would simply command you to keep them open. But as he fucked you with his fingers, your legs began to tremble and shake, your whole body tightening with the pleasure he gave you. Your gasps grew louder as you felt that pleasure building inside of you, rocking your core, igniting a fire in your belly. God, you were close – so fucking close – and just as you swirled your finger around your clit again – that band inside you snapped, releasing a wave of ecstasy across your skin. A loud cry escaped your lips, and Jonathan’s fingers only continued to work their magic inside of you. Your fingernails dug into the table as you bucked your hips into his hand, chasing the finality of your orgasm.

As the last of your climax washed over you, you slowly removed your hand, resting it atop the desk, panting as his fingers came to a slow, before he removed them entirely. Jonathan brought his two fingers up, studying the wet sheen coating his fingers, before he opened his mouth – and he licked his fingers clean. The motion made your insides clench and tighten with another bolt of heat, watching with desire as he licked himself of your juices. Your mouth fell open slightly, and your skin prickled with a delicious desire, a desperation to continue this. His eyes never broke from yours as he licked each digit clean, his eyes roaming over you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over at Edward, who continued to watch with that lustful, jealous gaze burning in his blue eyes. The room was so quiet, all you could hear was the thundering of your heart beating like a rabid animal against your breastbone.

Edward took a step forward, a scoff escaping his lips. “Making her work for it, Crane? The least you could is use your own mouth. Here, why don’t I show you, since you can’t even make her cum properly.”

The breath caught in your throat as you glanced between both men, a bundle of heat stirring within your core. Jonathan glanced at Edward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but he stepped aside and said, “Be my guest, Edward.”

Smirking, Edward approached you, wandering over as he studied you, his eyes roving over every inch of your body. His gaze was full of desire, and you noted the obvious erection pressing against the confines of his pants.

“Edward,” you whispered, but he cupped your face in between your hands as he shushed you, pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was passionate, greedy, as if a clear display of his ownership over you. Like even though he had agreed to share you tonight, you still belonged completely to him.

As he pulled away, his hands dropped down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he pulled them apart eagerly and lowered to his knees. In an instant, his mouth was on your clit, sucking gently, and you gasped, shuddering at the sensation of his tongue and mouth working against your overly sensitive clit. With two fingers, he inserted them into you, curving them, until he found your G-spot, stroking against the sensitive spot. A low whine escaped your lips as you tilted your head back, practically melting against his mouth, losing yourself to the pleasure he offered. Stars danced in your vision, and your entire body trembled with need and heat – but you were so preoccupied, lost in the feel of Edward’s tongue lapping against your clit, that you didn’t realize Jonathan walked around the side of the desk, coming up behind you.

You felt his breath suddenly at your neck, and he brushed your hair aside, exposing the left side of your neck. Jonathan’s lips were at your ear, his voice a cruel, cold whisper, “Do you fear being at our mercy, detective?” he asked.

As he spoke, his fingers pinched at your nipples, tugging lightly on the swollen bud. You gasped, jerking slightly into Edward’s mouth, but his grip on your thighs tightened, digging his fingers in as he continued to work you with his mouth and tongue. Jonathan rolled the soft bud of your nipple between two fingers, playing with it, twisting lightly. Another soft gasp escaped your lips as your head fell back further, resting against his shoulder.

“Knowing that you’re completely powerless to stop us?” he continued, his breath tickling your skin. “Powerless to the way your body responds to us?”

A low whine escaped your lips. Your brain was a fog of complete pleasure, all thoughts vanished somewhere far away, where you may never find them again. Edward’s fingers moved at a furious pace inside of you as his tongue continued to lick at your clit in slow, meticulous strokes. Pleasure bundled in your core, spreading a wildfire across your skin. You couldn’t form any words, any thought, any care other than drowning in the way Edward fucked you with his tongue while Jonathan played with your breasts, toying at your nipples, his breath hot in your eat. His other hand grabbed at your chin, his fingers trailing upwards towards your mouth.

“Open,” he said, a sharp command.

You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth, and he stuck his first two fingers inside. You could taste your own wetness on his fingers, sweet.

“Suck,” he said.

You closed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue along the long, dexterous digits, continuing to taste your own juices on his fingers. His other hand continued to palm at your breast, twisting your nipples in a painful, yet pleasurable way that made you gasp around his fingers. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his hand resting once more around your throat, and he squeezed lightly. A bolt of fear ran down your spine, melding together with the pleasure growing and bundling like a tightening rubber band in your core, threatening to snap, to make you come undone for a third time.

Jonathan looked into your eyes; his own were dark and clouded, filled with that same cold cruelty, as if you were nothing but his own toy to play with. His grip on your throat tightened, and the pleasure in your clit only surged higher. With one hand, you reached forward, gripping your hand tightly into Edward’s hair, urging him to continue as you arched your back, beckoning your soaking cunt further into his mouth. He continued, eagerly sucking on your clit now, and you felt that little bundle of pleasure grow – before it burst completely.

A low cry escaped your lips as your whole body wracked against his mouth, hot-white ecstasy surging through your entire body. You cursed under your breath as your body shook and writhed, your orgasm washing over you, making your toes curl. You tugged at Edward’s hair, whispering his name, losing yourself as you relaxed against Jonathan’s chest, crying out. But just as quickly as it came, the pleasure began to wane. Edward pulled away after a moment, gazing up at you, his lips coated in your wetness. He smirked as he stood up, looking rather pleased with himself.

His eyes flickered to Jonathan. “See, Crane? I didn’t hear her crying out your name.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you swallowed, trying to gain your composure. Heat bundled in your womanhood, a pleasurable sensation tingling at your clit; your whole body felt spent and worn, and sweat beaded down your forehead, between the valley of your breasts.

Jonathan made a sound of amusement. “No need to compete, Edward. I’m sure your little toy has enjoyed both of us. Isn’t that right, pet?” He squeezed at your throat again.

Your eyes snapped open, and you looked between them, unable to find the words as you continued to try and catch your breath.

“Well?” Jonathan asked, raising a brow, an expectant look on his face.

“Yes,” you whispered, struggling to find your voice.

“But who did you enjoy more?” Edward asked, raising his own brows. You could see the look in his eyes – the desperation for your approval, for you to choose him.

Well, you had to admit, there was something more pleasurable about him using his tongue instead of making you do it yourself. His question caught you off guard, but you couldn’t help the sly smile that curved at the corners of your mouth. Meeting his eyes, you said, “You, Edward. I enjoyed you more.”

“Ha! Take that, Crane!” Edward cried, smiling triumphantly.

A laugh threatened to bubble up out of your chest, but you swallowed it down. Jonathan made a sound, almost of disapproval, and his fingers only dug further into your throat, making you squirm. It was a little painful, just enough to cause you to tremble in fear, but not enough to frighten you completely. You just felt the tips of his nails grazing against your soft skin, threatening to scrape against your flesh.

Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. “Such a naughty pet, playing us against each other…is that anyway to behave?”

You pursed your lips. A thousand words hung on your tongue, but you couldn’t help yourself – you were in too deep, too far gone with pleasure and lust and desire to think about anything else other than what was happening right now, in this very room, with these two men. They offered you something you’d never been given before: pleasure and attention like you’d never had, never seen, as they worshipped you like you were something to be cherished.

But you couldn’t help the bratty remark that left your lips, “It is when you two decided to go behind my back and make this little arrangement,” you said, quietly, voice barely a breath.

That made a low chuckle rumble from Edward’s throat. “Fair enough. But now I believe you’re just being a naughty little tease, aren’t you, detective?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your smirk growing. You couldn’t help it – the very idea of being here with both of these dangerous men, who both wanted you…it was terrifying and exciting all the same, and a part of you wanted to see just how much you could push their buttons.

It was Jonathan’s turn to let out a sound of amusement, as his lips reached the shell of your ear once more, his tongue snaking out to brush across your ear, making you tremble as he said, “On the couch now, pet.”

Your gaze flickered to the other side of the room, where there was a small couch resting in the corner. Edward took a step back, helping you to your trembling feet, as you wandered over to the couch. You felt the dampness between your thighs, and your breasts hung with a heavy swell, your whole body flushed, nipples pert and pink.

“Sit,” Jonathan said. Another sharp command.

You nodded, turning back to face them, and you sunk onto the couch. Just as you did, Jonathan walked forward; he got down onto his knees and grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide, once more revealing your wet cunt to him. You gasped slightly as his nails dug into your flesh, and he glanced up at you.

“Now, pet,” he said. “I want you to stay focused. No getting distracted now.”

As he spoke, you watched Edward unzip his own trousers, pulling his own engorged, swollen cock from his pants. Your breath hitched in your throat as another wave of desire passed over you, making you shudder. Edward took a step closer, holding his shaft in hand, as he gave himself a few slow, measured strokes. But before you could say anything, Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your clit now, sucking the swollen, over sensitive bud.

“Fuck,” you cursed out, jolting back, but his hands dug further into your thighs to keep you still. He glanced up at you, his eyes cold and cruel, the warning within them clear.

Your gaze shifted back to Edward again; his cock was swollen, precum dripping from the red tip. You immediately opened your mouth, greedy, and grabbed onto his shaft, taking his head into your mouth. You licked at his head while swallowing him as deep as you could go – but at the same time, Jonathan continued to lap at your clit like a starved animal, greedy and sloppy, his tongue working overtime. Small bursts of pleasure bundled in your core, alighting a fire in your belly, and your already sensitive clit was at it’s peak. Edward tasted of salt and skin, and you groaned as Jonathan sucked on your clit. A soft curse escaped Edward’s lips as he titled his head back, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair, pulling tight on the strands.

You pulled back for air, a low curse escaping your own lips, “Fuck…”

Just as you stopped, so did Jonathan. He pulled back slightly, glancing up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. “I believe I didn’t tell you to stop, yes?”

“I—” But before you could get a word out, one of his hands came up and smacked at your clit. You yelped in pain and pleasure, too overstimulated to think straight.

“Continue,” Jonathan said. There was no warmth in his voice.

With just that one command, his mouth latched onto your clit again, and you took Edward back into your mouth. You worked him with your tongue and hand, groaning and moaning around his cock in tandem with the way Jonathan sucked and tongued at your clit. Heat ignited inside of you, burning like a wildfire in your belly, spreading through your every vein and muscle, clouding your every thought. Jonathan’s fingers entered you slowly, pumping in an out of you slowly, fucking you, and you pulled back for air again, gasping, a low moan escaping your lips – but once more, he smacked at your clit, and you cried out. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin and up your throat, burning your cheeks.

“She likes it when you smack her ass,” Edward said, rolling his eyes at Jonathan. Smirking, he grabbed onto you, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You held your breath as you braced yourself against the couch, and for a moment, all you felt was air – before Edward’s hand came down in a swift smack on your left ass check. You cried out, gasping, as the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room.

A ripple of delicious heat bundled in your core, and you held back your smile. There was something so naughty about being punished like this – being punished between them. Jonathan gripped your chin, turning your head slightly, and you realized he’d pulled his own cock from the confines of his pants, stroking himself now. You greedily took him into your mouth next, tasting the familiarity of skin and salt and sweat. Edward’s lips and fingers found themselves once more at your dripping hole, lapping at your clit, fucking you with his fingers. Another low groan escaped your lips as you felt Edward’s fingers curl inside of you, finding every delicious spot of pleasure that made you moan against Crane’s cock. Jonathan stared down at you, showing no sign of emotion on his face as you took him as deep as you could, almost gagging in the process. As you pulled back for air, you gasped, trying to fill your deprived lungs of oxygen – but the hesitation was enough, and you felt a second swift smack to your ass.

“Ah!” you cried out, shuddering at the pain radiating through your ass cheek. You let out a soft whine, before your mouth found Jonathan’s cock once more. This time, he began thrusting his hips slightly, using your mouth as if it was his own personal fuck toy.

You groaned around his cock again, tightening your hands into the couch, as Edward sucked on your swollen, sensitive bud, furiously pumping his fingers in and out of you. But just as you felt that bundle of pleasure building inside of you, Jonathan pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. At the same time, Edward paused his own movements, one of his hands gently gliding over the smooth slope of your ass in a comforting, soothing motion. You sucked in air, nerves tightening in your belly, wondering just what they had in store next. Edward slipped away from you, rising to his own feet, his swollen cock hanging in front of him. You watched as Jonathan reached into his suit coat and pulled out a condom from his pocket. He quickly ripped the foil, and rolled the condom onto his cock, until it was at the base of his shaft, where a soft patch of brown curls was. When he looked back at you, you averted your gaze, almost shyly, knowing what was coming next. Jonathan walked over to the couch, positioning himself behind you, one knee resting on the couch while his other leg steadied himself. He rested one hand on your hip, gently trailing along the curve of your ass, before he gripped tightly, nails digging in. You hissed between your teeth, a soft moan of pleasure escaping your lips as the pain made way for pleasure and heat. And that’s when you felt it – the head of his cock pushing into you, slowly, as he teased himself against your folds.

“Beg, detective,” he said, another order. Another cruel command. “Beg for it, pet.”

You were trembling now, bracing yourself, fingers digging into the couch cushions. You felt his body hovering over yours, warmth radiating off his skin, his breath heavy and ragged. You could just feel all the raw, primal energy coiled tightly inside of him, waiting to be unleashed upon you. There was no room for refusal in his authoritative, animalistic tone, as if he was barely containing himself any longer. Fear erupted in your core, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh and a chill to creep up the back of your neck. There was something about the change of tone in his voice, how low it had dropped, that made your insides coil with terror. You glanced up to find Edward taking his place at your front, his cock just at your mouth, awaiting you to take him back in and suck him off.

Jonathan teased the tip of his cock at your entrance again. “Come now, pet,” he said, almost a cruel purr. “You want this, don’t you? To be needed and craved and wanted by both of us at the same time?”

“….yes,” you whispered, almost choking out the word. “Please, please fuck me…”

“Say my name,” Jonathan said, his lips at your ear, body hovering over yours.

“Jonathan,” you whispered. “Jonathan please…” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling his fingers digging tightly into your hips.

“Not that name,” he hissed, tightening his grip.

You paused, feeling the breath knock from your lungs as you realized exactly what he wanted. Slowly, you peeled your eyes open, and you whispered that name he was so desperate to hear, “Please…Scarecrow, please…”

With just that one word, a deep sound of satisfaction rumbled out of his mouth – and he thrust into you. You gasped, crying out at how easily he filled you, how full he made you feel.

You felt his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “Good girl.” A sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, trembling, as his hands roamed over you, before he grabbed onto your hips again. He pulled out slowly – almost completely – before slamming back into you again. You cried out at the thickness of him, at how he took you with an unrestrained desire. He slammed into you again and again, and you glanced up to find Edward watching, holding his cock in his hand; his gaze dropped to you, and you opened your mouth, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to buck his hips into your mouth as Jonathan fucked you from behind. Your mind went completely blank as you were fucked relentlessly – you could think of nothing but their mouths and tongues and hands and cocks – completely filling you with pleasure, making you see stars. Edward bucked his hips into your mouth, and you breathed through your nose, trying to control your breathing. Low grunts escaped Jonathan’s lips as he slammed his hips into you, rutting into you with the desperation of a man chasing his own release. With each thrust, he filled you completely, slamming right into that spot inside of you. The sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room, melding together with each gasp and grunt and groan. The sounds of pleasure out of their mouths was like music to your ears, filling you with your own satisfied pleasure at knowing you were the cause of their undoing’s, that you had turned these men into such messes. You were the very reason they were here, wanting you, needing you, craving you, desiring you – and in that moment, you never wanted it to end. The couch creaked with each movement, each thrust, and you felt Jonathan’s balls slapping against your ass while Edward’s slapped against your face. They both grabbed at you, pawing at you with almost a primal need, as if they couldn’t get enough of you – as if their own obsessions with you were growing more dangerous, more unbridled, more desperate.

And somehow, someway, you began to feel it in return. A desperation for both of them, to be at their mercy, to be used like their own plaything and toy. You gasped around Edward’s cock again as Jonathan continued to fuck you, his hips bucking into you, and you felt yourself spiraling out of your own control, out of whatever shred of sanity you had left. Jonathan hissed between his teeth, slowing his thrusts, now taking you deeper, pushing himself all the way inside of you. Edward pulled out of your mouth enough for you to get air, sucking in a deep breath, and you hung your head; it was taking every ounce of your control to keep yourself propped up on your hands and knees, to keep yourself from falling into a heap of pleasure and exhaustion. The room was thick with hot tension and desire, a heavy heat radiating across every inch of your sweat, flushed skin. It was as if their silent agreement extended into each other, as if they were one mind, using you in tandem, taking what they wanted from you.

Edward shoved his cock into your mouth again, and you swallowed with greedily, sucking him off, licking your tongue up and down his shaft. He bucked his hips into your mouth and grabbed onto your breasts, fondling them, pinching and pulling at your nipples. You felt his thrusts suddenly become more sloppy, more desperate, and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as he came – spilling his seed down your throat. A loud groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. You swallowed his cum, feeling some of it dribble down your mouth as the rutting of his hips stilled as deep into your mouth as he could go. The bitter taste of his seed filled your mouth, and you swallowed as much of him as you could before he pulled out. His cock was covered in a mix of his own release and your saliva, and he sat back, gasping, trying to gain his composure, a sheen coating across his forehead.

It took you a moment to realize Jonathan had paused his thrusting, as if to allow Edward to finish, before he resumed. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back, his teeth nipping at your ear as he hissed, “Does it frighten you, detective? To be taken by the Scarecrow?”

His words made you tremble, and a low gasp escaped your lips. His words were possessive and dark, like he was staking a claim over you, letting you know that you were his just as much as you were Edward’s. You couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence, too caught up in the way his cock continued to buck in and out of your dripping, wet cunt.

“Or does it excite you?” he continued. “Knowing you belong to both of us?”

In response, all you could give was a low whine, a gasp, and you squeezed your eyes shut. His words made you tremble, made your skin prickle with delicious heat. His words seemed to wrap around you, blanketing you in the fear and realization of what you were doing – and who you were doing it with – but at this moment, you didn’t even care.

“Answer me, pet,” he purred.

“Yes!” you gasped out, cursing under your breath once more as he pounded into you with a relentless frenzy. “Yes – fuck…please…”

“Good girl,” he whispered again. His hand loosened from your hair, traveling down to the base of your neck, where he gripped tightly. With a careful grip, he forced your head down, burying your face into the couch cushion. You gasped, gazing up at Edward as he watched, his cock now softening and hanging limp. You gritted your teeth, and with one final thrust, Jonathan groaned low and deep in his throat as he shoved himself as far into you as he could go. You felt his cock twitch, and warmth fill the end of the condom inside of you. You collapsed onto the couch, utterly spent, unable to move. Slowly, you felt Jonathan slip himself out of you, leaving you feeling empty.

“Such a good girl, detective,” Edward murmured. “Taking us both so well.” There was thick, dark satisfaction laced in his voice.

His words made your heart flutter with pride, as if you’d done something so good and well for them, satisfied them both, alighting a desperation inside of you that you didn’t even know you wanted. You laid there for a moment, trying to adjust to the afterglow and the mix of pleasure and pain swirling inside of you, trying to regain some sanity over the moment. You felt Jonathan shift behind you, and when you glanced back, he stood up. The condom was filled at the tip with white cum, and he wandered away, off towards a garbage can on the other side of the room. A quiet stillness filled the room, but the air was still heavy with tension.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked as Crane cleaned himself up.

“I’m…okay,” you whispered, trying to regain your composure. With Edward’s help, you lifted yourself up. Every part of your body was spent and sweaty, and you maneuvered yourself into a sitting position. You still tasted Edward’s cum on your tongue.

The moment almost didn’t feel real now that it was over. There was a strange absence inside of you now as you tried to register what you’d done, and the new dynamics between the three of you now. Slowly, you ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out the tangles. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin, and you looked down at your shaky, trembling legs. There was a part of you that was absolutely excited over what just happened – and just as equally terrified by the encounter, too.

A moment later, you finally lifted your eyes to see that both Edward and Jonathan had tucked their cocks back into their pants. You found Jonathan reaching down to gather up your thong and dress, and he approached you, holding them out for you. You mumbled a quick thank you, before Edward helped you to your feet, giving you the space to shimmy back into your clothes. As you did, you felt both their eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the little bruises and teeth marks in your skin at their touches. A rumble of satisfaction erupted deep in your core, and you couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across your lips.

“Well,” you said, once you were dressed. “So…that happened.”

Edward chuckled deep in his throat. “Yes, detective, it did. Now, perhaps we should get you home, yes?”

You shot him a look, but nodded. You were desperate for a shower to wash off the sweat, but your gaze flickered back to Jonathan for a quick moment. He straightened out his suit coat and adjusted his tie, appearing as if this entire interaction had never happened at all.

“Until next time, detective,” Jonathan said, his voice dark and possessive. He turned on his heels and opened the door of the office, stepping back out into the hall.

You followed after him, but before you could step forward, Edward’s hand gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin. He lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Just because I’ve agreed to share you with Crane doesn’t make you any less mine, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you murmured, a tingle creeping up your spine.

“Good,” he replied. Then he let you go and gave your ass a gentle smack. You shot him a look, smirking, but stepped into the hall. Edward followed you and shut the office door behind him. Quietly, the three of you walked back down the hall, an odd tenseness filling the air between the three of you, too many unspoken words dangling in the air.

But as you came back towards the party, you noticed Commissioner Cash peek his head out, searching both ways down the hall before his eyes landed on you. “Detective,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I was wondering where you’d run off to. These two aren’t giving you any trouble, are they?” He glanced between Edward and Jonathan with suspicion in his eyes.

You smiled. “Not at all, Commissioner. Not at all.”

[cannonsoupforthesoul]

Sing For Me Lovely

By Cannonsoupforthesoul

This is my first time ever posting my own work, it’s 100% brainrot smut. These characters are mine and have no relation whatsoever to any other character or person living or dead 🩷🖤 I do not own the graphic art you see below, if you are the owner and would like it taken down please send me a dm🩷🖤

Content Warnings: TW-NonCon, TW- Kidnapping,TW- Dubcon, TW- Bondage, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, D/S vibes, Yandere vibes, Obsession, Cuss Words Are Used, Masochist Vibes, Blood/Minor Gore(?)

Word Count - 1678

Copyright @Cannonsoupforthesoul aka me, Aava 2023. Any illegal reproduction of this content will result in immediate legal action.

🌙

Her toes twitched and flexed, legs flung over his shoulders with his broad hands shackled around her thighs. She couldn’t bear to look down and see his dark eyes peering up at her, never once stopping his pointed assault on her pussy.

He’d taken her somewhere, but there were no clues in the dimly lit room. The dark oppressive curtains were drawn shut and the bay window was too far away from the bed. Of course, that was ignoring the fact that she was handcuffed to the headboard. But thinking about that was too stressful, too frightening.

Books lined the exposed brick wall in towering bookshelves amidst gothic art and mirrors on the wall opposite her, a velvet jade loveseat sat in front of the window. There was even a dark wood coffee table, a tv, and a giant black and white photo was hung above the bed.

A studio apartment, or a large bedroom?

Did it even matter?

Iris felt her eyes roll back when her captor laid a particularly rough swipe of his tongue on her pearl, the beads of his tongue piercing pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves before he sucked the throbbing organ into his mouth. It felt like his was trying to devour her, the sounds of his appreciative groans sang in her ears to the soundtrack of her handcuff chains clanging with her struggling. Tears dripped a path to her hairline as she bit her lip, breaths heavy but desperate to hold in her own sounds of pleasure.

He paused his ministrations, finally relaxing his bruising grip on her meaty thighs and rose from his crouch with a delirious smirk and heart eyes.

“Don’t cry, pretty baby. I’m just gonna make you feel good. The best you’ve ever felt. Think of it as a welcome home, yeah?” He leaned over her, balancing his weight on one hand, shirtless and incredibly broad. His size was simply terrifying; in all her life she’d never seen a man whose presence alone was so daunting. He didn’t need to be so fucking huge as well, there was simply no chance of escaping such a monster. Not in her current predicament.

He swiped his thumb through the tracks of her tears and paused before rubbing the salty taste against her full lips as his eyes lost focus again.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he murmured dazedly. “Like a fairy.” His thumb paused its stroke across her bottom lip and he groaned deeply before thrusting it into her mouth, pressing it against her tongue as he panted.

She’d been on the verge of pissing herself in fear since the moment he’d appeared like a shadow in that alley, and there was no telling what he would do with her once he got tired of playing with her body, but that was the moment she snapped. Iris bit down savagely, and didn’t stop even when blood began to gush from the wound she’d created. Mouth bloody, she glared at him fiercely while waiting for him to retaliate.

He did not.

His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned, pressing his hips flush against hers with a roll; that creepy adoring smirk ever present. “Maybe more like a wild cat than a fairy, but what do I know?” He gripped her jaw firmly, just enough to extricate his thumb before she bit it off entirely. “Maybe you’re a goddess in human flesh? Let me worship you.”

Iris trembled while he slithered down her body, leaving hot wet kisses against the tops of her breasts, then more and more on her soft belly as he went until he’d settled between her thighs again.

“I understand why you’re fighting me; you’re afraid. It makes sense, but I would never hurt you. I’d rather slit my own throat. You’re safe with me, I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“Then let me go,” she finally broke her stubborn silence. “Please, please just let me go!”

He grinned wide, revealing longer than average incisors and a scar at the left corner of his mouth that stretched a bit with the movement . His black hair was tied back in a bun at the nape of his of his neck, errant strands clung to his face where her slick had been plastered to his dimpled cheeks during his meal. He was of Asian descent, a veritable giant and built like an athlete. She wouldn’t admit it either, but he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. Covered in tattoos and piercings and somehow, by some cruel twist of fate, exactly her type.

He held her gaze captive as he lifted her legs and placed her thighs on his shoulders, forcing her to rest her shoulders on the bed while he supported the rest of her weight with his hands holding her hips up to his watering mouth while he sat up with his legs folded.

“W-wait!” She stammered desperately through a flood of more tears. “You didn’t even tell-tell me your name you bastard.”

He just chuckled distractedly, cheeks flushed red with excitement. “It’s Shota honey. Remember to sing it real loud for me, yeah?”

With that he went back to work, savoring every inch of her sex. The sounds he made were animalistic, licking at her hole until he could fuck it with his tongue, until her wetness poured freely. She squirmed but there was nowhere to go. Her breath came in quick pants, already over sensitive from from the hour he’d already spent eating her pussy. Breathless whimpers broke free despite her efforts to stay silence once more.

Shota had doubled his efforts, as if his meal might be snatched away from him any minute and made Iris shriek when he began supporting her hips with one arm while his other hand slid toward her beckoning heat. He released his suction on her clit with a pop to the enrapturing chorus of her first clear resounding moans and French kissed her cunt lips with a gleeful smile.

“That’s it lovely, just let me see you feeling good. Can you do that for me? You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell. What about this, how’s that?” He murmured against the flesh of her thigh, and sucked the flesh into his mouth hard while he slid his forefinger into the furnace between her thighs with a groan of his own.

Iris shook against the bed, her feet kicking at the sudden sensation and fluttered again when his thumb rolled over her clit. It was too good, so much better than all the times she’d ever touched herself. Her fingers were never long enough, and silicone was really just plastic, she’d never quite figured out how to use them to their full potential and didn’t bother trying when her hands did the job just fine. He was the real thing, and there was no ignoring that.

“You can take another,” the pussy drunk giant grunted as he replaced his thumb with his tongue and thrust two fingers in oh so slowly. He shuddered as his fingers traversed her silky heat, scissoring his fingers while still ministering to her clit and labia with his desperate seeking mouth.

Iris twitched and whimpered at the onslaught of intense pleasure. She couldn’t think anymore, there was no escaping this moment and she had no choice but to resign her self to be pleasured until she was a mindless quivering puddle.

Time seemed to stop for a moment when Shota’s knuckles hit a small spongey bean in his path within her creamy walls. A wicked cackle immediately bellowed out of him, and with a sinister grin he returned with three fingers. Thrusting fast and deep, angling towards her g-spot.

“Sh-shot-ta! Shota, Shota!” She chanted his name, not even noticing when he lowered her body back onto the bed since he never stopped fucking his fingers into her. The squelch of her slick as it dripped down his hand to his forearm was like the melody in the background of her beautiful voice as she moaned.

“Sing for me honey, you sound so fucking good. Let me hear you.”

Her eyes had closed in their own at some point, but they flew open when a hot mouth latched onto her left nipple. He’d pushed her right thigh up to meet her chest, one big hand holding it up while he rested his weight on his other elbow to give him access to her bare chest.

Kidnapping her had taken months of planning and waiting, but the moment he had her in this room he hadn’t been able to wait before cutting through her clothes and feasting on her gorgeous breasts. She’d woken up after he’d spent the better part of two hours suckling and biting at her chest by that time he’d moved on to her lower half, but her nipples were still sore and hyper sensitive.

Shota ground his hips against the bed, sucking harder, groaning at the taste of her skin and the feeling of her hole fluttering erratically around his thrusting fingers.

The burning coil in Iris’s belly had wound tight as he worked her closer and closer to her orgasm, it felt like anything at all would set her off. Every thrust of his fingers fanned the flames of her approaching climax, and just when she began to grow impatient Shota pressed down hard on her clit and bit down on her nipple, hard.

Iris squirted with a scream, eyes rolling blindly while she babbled incoherently, “Shhh- sshhho- shhhhh…” Her feet kicked wildly when he dropped back between her thighs once more to taste the fountain of her juices, it didn’t stop as he lapped at her tender sex, or when he suddenly nipped her clit. She kept cumming as he continued the onslaught of pleasure, fingering her while he drank her nectar even when she stopped cumming and until she did twice more.

Iris didn’t move again for a long time after that. She would wake up clean and dressed and disoriented in a button down that dwarfed her smaller frame, Shota’s giant body curled around her like ivy while he watched her with heart eyes and his familiar dazed smile.

Fin.

Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated. I’d love to know what you guys think 🖤 Should I keep posting my work?

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @kyra75 for this request from @choicesprompts Flufftober event - prompt: Secret Admirer for Tobias x Casey. It was a lot of fun to write this sweet little story. I'm writing a "sort of" follow-up to this for @snoopdogcone's last prompt request, too! I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart (Post Series Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Featuring: Ethan Ramsey Rating: General Words: 1,300 Summary: Casey's got a secret admirer, and Tobias is determined to find out who it is.

A/N: Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge Flufftober - Prompts: Warm hugs, handwritten letters.

It started small: a few handwritten notes left on Casey’s desk that eventually progressed to a series of little gifts. First was a tiny stuffed unicorn with huge blue eyes, “Just like yours!” the accompanying note read. The next day, it was a bag of Geysers candy with a big bow and a tiny card that read, “Roses are red, Violets are blue, these candies are sweet, just like you!”   

Casey smiled as she picked it up. Assuming they were from a grateful patient, the lovely gestures made her smile, but Tobias’s antennas were up. “Case, these aren’t thank-you gifts; a patient would let you know who they were from,” he pointed out with a grin. “Someone’s got herself a secret admirer!”

“A secret admirer?” Casey chortled. “Tobias! Be serious. Everyone at Edenbrook knows I’m with you.” She sauntered over to him, straightening the lapels on his labcoat with a little grin. “And while you’re a very secure man and not the jealous type... you can also be a little... unhinged, darling. So, don't worry. No one here is messing with me.”

“Unhinged,” he chuckled, pulling her in for a warm embrace, his voice dropping low. “Only when I’m under the covers with you.”

Ethan walked into the office and let out a groan laced with disgust. “Someday, the two of you won’t work here, and I won’t have to greet each day with a spell of nausea.”

“Maybe?” Casey smiled, “but you would miss us!”

He put on his glasses and turned to her with a blank stare. “Maybe?”

“Hey,” Tobias asked. “What do you make of these gifts Casey’s receiving? You think someone’s got a little crush?”

“It's possible,” Ethan shrugged. “But Casey’s already shown she has questionable taste in suitors when she fell for you... so, I think you’re safe, Carrick.”

Tobias scoffed. “Safe?” he shook his head, glancing at himself in the mirror. “Of course I’m safe! I mean, look at me... and this isn’t even with my abs exposed....”

“Shall I get you the Pepto Bismol?” Casey whispered to Ethan.

“It would be appreciated,” he replied.

“I’m just saying... it's not that I'm jealous. But if someone’s got a crush on my girl. I think we should figure out who it is so the poor fool understands that they don’t have a chance.”

"You think it's Ron from Radiology, don't you," Ethan smirked.

"Mmh, Ron is kind of hot," Casey teased.

Tobias turned to them both, unamused. "Don't you worry, I'll get to the bottom of this!"

But the days kept coming, and the gifts kept coming with them. When a heart-shaped lollipop appeared on her desk, Tobias had enough... he was going to get to the bottom of this. “Alright, this is getting serious. Someone out there has a full-blown crush on you, and it’s time we investigate.”

Casey rolled her eyes. “They’re sweet gestures, babe, but it’s just someone being nice. You’re reading too much into it.”

“You know you’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, and I’m so glad you’re mine... but you’re a little naïve, dear. No one is doing all these things because they're being nice!”  

“Are you getting jealous, love?”

“No!” He insisted. “It’s not jealousy, but someone is leaving gifts for my girl. It’s about time they get the memo that she’s taken. It’s an act of kindness, really. Let them know they should move on to someone else, where they might stand a chance.”

“Yes, dear,” Casey chuckled as Tobias set off to find answers.

He passed Casey’s office frequently that day, enlisting some buddies to also serve as spies. But as the day was dwindling to an end, he was beginning to feel defeated when fate smiled upon him.

He was just finishing his rounds when he spotted Connor, a young patient of Casey’s, marching toward her office with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Casey had taken a liking to the boy, often stopping by his room after her shift to help him with homework or play a video game or two. A smile tugged on Tobias’s lips as he saw the light in the little boy's eyes.

“Hey, buddy!” Tobias smiled, mussing up Connor’s sandy blonde hair. “Are those flowers for Dr. MacTavish?”

Connor nodded with a smile despite his embarrassment. “Yeah…Dr. Casey is so nice, and, um, she’s really pretty, too. And she knows all about baseball and lets me play her playlist during my checkups.”

Tobias chuckled, crouching down to Connor’s level. “I don’t blame you, kiddo. Dr. Casey’s pretty awesome.”

Connor looked over his shoulder, then looked around again to ensure no one could hear him. “Do you know if she’s married?” he whispered.

Tobias’s eyes went wide. “Married? No. I don’t think she’s married. But I do know she’s loved the little gifts you’ve left her. She should be here any moment now. Why don't you deliver this one to her yourself? I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Do you think so?” Connor asked, his eyes wide.

“I do,” Tobias nodded. “Why don’t you sit here and wait.”

Tobias walked to the nurses’ station, pretending to review a folder, but his eyes never lost sight of the adorable little boy sitting on a chair outside of Casey's office.

Connor bit his lip nervously but still managed a smile when he saw Casey approaching her office. Tobias looked on as Connor timidly handed her the flowers, his cheeks turning red.

“Connor! Are these for me?” Casey beamed.

Connor couldn't muster up words, but his face lit up with joy as he nodded. Casey sat on the chair next to Connor and squeezed his little hand. “Are you the one who has been leaving me all the sweet notes and treats?”

The boy just nodded again.

“Well, I have to thank you. You’ve made me smile so many times this week. Thank you for that, Connor. You made me feel very special."

The boy looked up and caught Tobias watching. He smiled and gave the boy a quick thumbs-up.

“Well, you’ve made me smile, too, Dr. Casey. Do you think we could play video games later?”

Casey gave him a little squeeze. “You better believe we will! In fact, why don’t I bring some of the Geysers you gave me? We can share them!”

“Can we?” he said, eyes wide with excitement.

“Of course!”

The boy jumped off Casey’s lap and rushed to his room, his heart pounding with pride as he gave Tobias a high five along the way.

Casey’s heart was full of warmth as she locked eyes with Tobias, gesturing toward her office. As soon as the door was closed, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “So, you solved the mystery, Sherlock. Looks like my admirer is an adorable young man, after all!”

“Yep,” Tobias grinned. “I like him! The kids got great taste. But I don’t have to worry, do I?”

Casey playfully mulled it over before kissing her boyfriend’s cheek. “Luckily for you, younger men aren’t my thing. I like more into old men, like you.”

“Old man,” he growled, pulling Casey flush against him as his lips fell to her neck, leaving a not-so-tender kiss behind. “I’ll show you, old man!”

Casey giggled as she playfully pushed him away. “Well, if I have any other secret admirers, I know who to turn to. But for now, maybe let’s let my pint-sized Romeo keep his little crush.”

“Deal,” Tobias laughed. “But I'm watching him! I mean, the kids got game. If I take him under my wing, he could be a master by the time he's in high school.”

“T,” Casey laughed. “Leave him be! He’s doing just fine on his own, and, besides, the world can only handle one Tobias Carrick.”

“You've got a point,” Tobias grinned. “But if Connor ever needs a pep talk, I’m going to have his back!”

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