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keiththecat · 1 year ago

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Admissible (Part Three)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: Here's part three! Hope you're enjoying so far! Feel free to message me if you have any questions or concerns about anything. Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love so far! <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

Despite only getting a few hours of sleep and being awake before the sunrise, you feel lighter and more rested than you have in years. However, knowing that you’ll leave the Winchesters today leaves a surprisingly bitter taste in your mouth. It’ll be fine, you remind yourself. You’ve made it this long by yourself. You can keep in touch, if they want to. Maybe your paths will cross again.

You spend the morning searching news articles across the country, hoping that you can find something to give you a destination and a hunt. No time to be sad about this crush if I’m busy killing things. You hear the Impala leave the motel around 8:30AM, indicating Dean is going to fix your car. A while later, Bobby calls you.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Still with the boys?” He asks.

“Yeah? Why?”

“Gonna need ya to head this way with them when you’re done there,” he says. “Got somethin’ suspicious up this way, you’re the closest group.”

“Oh, we’re a group now, are we, Bobby?” You tease.

“Well am I wrong?” He asks. You grumble in response, hating his ability to see right through you. “‘S what I thought. I’ll send you the info, you can pass it along to them.”

“Alright, Bobby, I’ll let them know. We’ll head out from here as soon as my car is fixed.” You say your goodbyes and hang up, forming a group text message with the brothers.

[Group Message: Three’s Company]

[Y/N 9:55AM: Bobby has a case, asked for the three of us. Said we’re the closest. Wakefield, Nebraska.]

[Dean 9:58AM: Got it. Should be done your car in the next 30]

You set about cleaning your weapons to pass the time, disassembling your pistol to thoroughly clean the inside. Once it is clean and back together, you clean up the salt lines as best you can and pick up your sigil trap mats, rolling them up so they’ll fit back in your bag. You run through a quick inventory in your mind, making sure you have everything packed away. Pistol, knives, sigils, salt, lamb’s blood, holy water, clothes, toiletries, journal, lighter fluid, matches, phone charger… You’re interrupted by your phone.

[Group Message: Three’s Company]

[Dean 10:25AM: Car’s done. On my way back to you guys. Be ready to leave]

Confident that you have all your things, you grab your bags, leave your key on the desk in the motel’s office, and head back toward room 9. Sam comes out of the room, bags in hand, and runs right into you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Y/N! Didn’t see you there.”

“All good, Lurch,” you smirk. “Need a hand?”

“‘Lurch’?” He asks, shaking his head with a laugh. “Actually, help would be great. Return our key for me?”

You agree, take the key and return it. When you come back out, Dean has returned and they are loading their bags into the Impala.

“Alright, boys. What’s the plan?” you call out as you get closer.

“We were just talking about that,” Dean answers. “We can drop you at your car and head to Nebraska from there?”

“Or we could all swing by the bunker, leave your car there, and go to Nebraska together?” Sam proposes. “You know, since we’re all going to the same place anyway.”

You think for a moment. More time with them, I guess. Here’s the cliff, time to choose: jump or hide tail and run. “Sure, sounds good.” Might as well embrace it. Maybe I can manage to at least get some friends out of this deal.

Sam’s shy but ecstatic grin in response could light up the darkest of nights, eyes shining. “Awesome.”

Dean glances between the two of you, a knowing smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, good idea, Sammy. Glad that big head is good for something.” He roughs up Sam’s hair, and Sam makes a face, smacking Dean’s hands away. You laugh at their antics, wondering just what kind of shenanigans you’ve agreed to.

Just over half an hour later, you are following the Impala into a well-hidden tunnel. Damn, this is cool. You find yourself feeling jealous that not only do they have a place to call home, but it’s like something out of a movie. Dean slows the Impala to a stop, pointing his arm out the window to show you where you can park. You pull into the empty spot, looking at all the vehicles they have in appreciation and wondering which of them rides the motorcycles. Probably Dean.

You grab your bags, leave your car keys in the visor, and pat the hood of your car goodbye. Sam is waiting at the trunk of the Impala to take your bags. “You sure this is okay?”

“Yeah, Sam. A longer ride in the Impala? Of course it’s cool.”

Your bags secure in the trunk, you hop into the back seat and Sam back into the passenger seat. Dean pulls out of the garage, heading north.

A few hours later finds you and the Winchesters pulling into a diner’s parking lot in Wakefield, Dean explaining, “My brain shuts down when I’m hungry. We eat, then we plan.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Your brain doesn’t plan even on a full stomach, Dean.”

Dean gives him a dirty look, getting out of the car and heading into the diner. You and Sam follow him in. Dean sits on one side of a booth, Sam sits on the other, and you debate for a moment before waving them to the corner booth instead. The boys comply, coming to the corner booth. Dean sits with his back to the dining area, Sam sits on the opposite side in the corner and you slide in next to Sam. After scanning the room, you notice the boys watching you, Sam with both eyebrows raised in question and Dean with his brows furrowed at you.

You debate for a second, then decide that you should explain your thought process. “Corner. No surprises from behind.”

The boys take a moment to consider before nodding. Three exits: front door, side door, back door through kitchen. Windows on two sides.

“I think talking to the Mullen family is where we should start. Their teenage son died in a swimming pool a few days ago,” Sam states, glancing over the menu.

The waitress comes by, takes your orders. She’s small with short grey hair, probably in her 60s. You all get coffee, Dean gets a burger, you and Sam get salads. She scurries away, promising it’ll only be a moment.

“People die swimming all the time,” Dean reasons, “What makes it our business?”

“He was basically a professional, on track to be the youngest competitor in the next Olympics actually,” Sam answers before you can.

“I vote we get rooms, we can change clothes, and drive to their house. Talk to them, feel them out a little. The sun hasn’t even set yet,” you suggest and the brothers agree.

The waitress brings your drinks and food, your table comfortably silent while you all eat your first meal of the day.

After your meal is finished and you’ve paid, you pile back into the Impala, find a motel, and grab two rooms. You go into your single, the boys go into their double. You cleanse the room, set up your salt lines and sigil trap mats. You change into your monkey suit, grab your fake FBI badge, load yourself up with your weapons, and step outside. Both Winchesters are leaning against the Impala, Dean’s arms crossed and Sam running his fingers through his hair.

“Ready, slowpokes?” You joke. The boys snort out laughs, getting into the car and you follow.

As you’re pulling up next to the Mullen household, an ambulance speeds by with lights and siren on. The three of you look at each other. “You two talk to them, I’ll check that out?” Dean asks, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the ambulance. You and Sam agree, getting out of the car quickly and Dean speeds off.

“Alright then. You want to take the lead?” Sam asks you.

“You go ahead. You’ve got that likable face.”

He nods, smiling a little. You both walk up to the door, you behind Sam. He knocks on the door, and a short, stout woman in her 40s answers. “Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Agents Nichols and Kelley with the FBI. We were hoping to ask you some questions about Cole,” Sam says, you both flashing your badges before returning them to your pockets.

She opens the door, letting you both in and leading the way. “Sure, sure. Anything to get some answers for my boy. Can I get you both anything?” she asks.

“No, we’re fine, thank you,” Sam answers. You notice the pictures hanging in the hallway on your way by. There are countless pictures hanging, all showing Cole at different ages, gold medals hanging around his neck and a bright smile on his face. Definitely not a lack of skill or knowledge that caused this.

You join them in the living room, you and Sam sitting on the couch and Missus Mullen sitting across from you in a chair. “I’m surprised you all are here, the local police seemed convinced it was an accident. I had to fight for them to do an autopsy,” her voice breaks, tears starting to fall. You grab the box of tissues off the coffee table and offer it to her, she takes one and blows her nose.

“Sometimes these things get passed to other offices,” Sam explains. “If you don’t mind, what can you tell us about Cole?”

“Well,” she starts, “he was a normal, happy kid. Perfect grades in school. Never got into trouble. He loved swimming. It was his whole life.”

“And he was very proficient at it, wasn’t he?” Sam asks.

“He was. Always first place in competitions. We registered him for the next Olympic trials meet.” she explains, wiping her eyes.

“Was there anything weird the day he died? Or in the days leading up to it?” you ask.

“No, nothing.” she answers. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself too. But nothing was weird. He ate his lunch like he always does, and then he got in the pool and didn’t come back out.”

“He didn’t struggle? Yell for help?” Sam asks.

“Nothing like that, no. It looked like he grabbed his stomach, but then he just sank.”

You and Sam look at each other before you address her again, “Thank you for your time, Missus Mullen. We’ll look into everything and be in touch. So sorry again.” You hand her a business card as you and Sam get up to leave.

“Thank you, Agents,” she says, closing the door once you’re outside.

Both of your phones ding at the same time.

[Group Message: Three’s Company]

[Dean 7:11PM: You guys ready to be picked up? You won’t believe what I found at the hospital]

[Sam 7:11PM: Yeah, come get us]

“Well that was weirdly normal, yet also super weird at the same time,” you say.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Sam says, smiling a little at your wording.

You find yourselves back at the motel in no time, all in the Winchesters’ room. You’re sitting with your legs tucked under you on the couch, Sam is sitting in a chair at the table with his laptop open in front of him, and Dean is sitting on his bed with his legs stretched out in front of him and his back against the headboard.

“What do you mean, ‘gum?’” You ask again.

“I’m telling you,” Dean explains, “it was gum. They rushed the kid into surgery and his stomach was packed totally full of chewed gum.”

“That makes no sense though,” Sam says, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

“I know it doesn’t but that’s what it was,” Dean shrugs, then snaps his fingers, “Oh! And there was another kid there whose eyes were stuck crossed. His mom was yelling that he was making faces and his eyes just got stuck like that. They’re having a weird day at that hospital.”

“Okay,” you say, “let’s just lay this all out. A kid with his stomach full of gum, a kid with his eyes stuck, a kid drowned after eating his lunch... These are all old wives’ tales, aren’t they?”

Sam lifts his head to look at you, “you’re right. But what is causing them to be true?”

“A witch?” You propose.

“Ughhh, I hate witches,” Dean groans, throwing his head back against the wall.

“Maybe,” Sam agrees. “What if they wanted a specific one to be true but they weren’t specific enough in their spell?”

“Then they suck,” Dean says, pouting like a child at the thought of dealing with a witch.

You laugh a little, “I mean, you’re not wrong, Dean.”

“I know I’m not. I’m always right. And witches always suck.”

“Getting back on track,” Sam interrupts, “how do we find them?”

“What if we look for someone who had good luck recently? Lottery or love?” You wonder out loud.

“Genius,” Sam says, starting to type on this laptop. “I could just kiss your brain.”

You blush and tuck your chin, trying to hide subtly. Dean grins at you, noticing your rosy cheeks. You take a deep breath, willing your face to return to normal color.

“So get this,” Sam says, “there was a marriage announcement in the paper yesterday. Says the man and woman only met two days before getting married, calling it ‘love at first sight.’”

“That fits. I’d call love at first sight an old wives’ tale.” You reason.

“Well, I don't know about that,” Dean argues. “It seems like it can happen for some people.”

You and Sam look at him in shock. You know enough about his love-them-and-leave-them habits from talking with other hunters. “Are you sick?” You ask, getting up to put a hand on Dean’s forehead and check for fever.

He smacks your hand away, “No, I’m not sick. Get off me. I’m just saying, for some people, not me, but it might happen for some.” He pointedly smirks at you.

Your teasing attitude immediately melts away and your face falls, realizing he is hinting at your feelings for his brother. You’re very glad that Sam is behind you and can’t see your reaction. You give Dean the smallest of head shakes, hoping he’ll take pity on you and keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, sure, Dean,” Sam says behind you, scoffing. “As if you’d suddenly start believing in something like that.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess,” Dean agrees, thankfully seeming to drop it. “So do we think the witch is him or her?”

“Well, I’ve got a way to find out,” Sam says, “but we’ll have to separate them.”

Sam, apparently incredibly skilled with spell work, explains that he can cast a spell to locate the witch who cast the original spell, but it will only give him a location. It’s decided that you and Dean will separate the couple to two different areas of town under the guise of them each winning a party, bachelor party for him and bachelorette for her. The biggest con to this plan is that as soon as the witch is revealed to Sam, the witch will be aware that they are being targeted. Sam will call whichever one of you needs to attack and you’ll need to act fast.

Sam gives you a few witch-killing bullets, and you load them into your pistol. You ‘borrow’ a car from the parking lot for the evening. Sam gathers some supplies from the Impala, and has everything set up for the spell within a few minutes.

“Alright, we all ready?” Dean asks, loading his own witch-killing bullets and placing his pistol in the back of his jeans.

You and Sam respond affirmatively. The boys give each other a pat on the shoulder. With that, you and Dean leave, him in the Impala and you in your ‘borrowed’ sedan. You glance back up at the motel when you’re pulling away to see Sam in the window of the room, giving you a small wave.

You and Dean park at the house where Claire and Mick Allen live. You walk up to the door together, and Dean knocks on the door.

After several moments, Mick opens the door. He’s an average looking guy, brown hair, and in his 30s. “Can I help you?”

“Congratulations! You and your wife have won!” You exclaim.

“Won what? What is this, honey?” Claire comes to the door, standing beside her husband. She’s petite, has long blonde hair, and looks to be in her late 30s.

“Well, ma’am, we are part of a company called Eternal Love. We have a team who monitors marriages, and we choose couples monthly who get to go on all-expenses-paid bachelor and bachelorette parties. You lovely people are the winners this month!” You explain, trying to sound excited.

“Oh wow, sweetie,” Mick says to Claire, “This is awesome! We didn’t get the chance to go before the wedding.”

“Aw, how perfect!” Dean says. “Well, we’ll just need you both to pack overnight bags and we can be on our way. Don’t worry about the late hour, we will take care of driving and you can rest on the way.”

“Oh, I don’t know, honey,” Claire says.

“Let’s do it, sweetie. It’s all paid for.” Mick argues.

Claire still seems hesitant, but Mick turns to you and Dean, “We’ll do it. We’ll go pack and be right back.” Mick ushers his wife back into the house and closes the door.

You and Dean wait impatiently. The couple returns after a few minutes, each with a small duffel bag in their hands. You usher Claire to your car, Dean ushers Mick to his. You pull out your phones before getting inside.

[Group Message: Three’s Company]

[Dean 8:59PM: I have Mick. Heading east]

[Y/N 8:59PM: I have Claire. Heading west]

You each get in, pulling away and driving in opposite directions. The only noise in the car is the quiet sounds coming from the radio for several minutes. Then Claire speaks up, “So where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you answer. “I promise it’ll be worth it. We should get there in about half an hour.”

“Oh. Okay,” she responds, disappointed that you wouldn’t give her more information.

“So how long have you two known each other?” You ask, trying to kill time.

“Not very long,” she admits. “Only a few days, really.”

“Wow, love at first sight, huh?”

“Yeah, it was,” she says.

You focus on appearing relaxed, but you keep your muscles tense, ready to grab your pistol if your phone rings. You’re driving for a few more minutes before Claire gasps and starts crying. “Oh my God, why did I marry him? I don’t even know him!”

You realize that the spell must have broken, meaning Dean got rid of Mick. You start trying to calm Claire down and explain what happened when your phone rings.

“It’s not her,” you answer.

“I think something happened to Dean, he won’t answer.” Sam says quickly.

You turn the car around to speed in the direction Dean drove. “Well he did something because the spell is broken. I’m going to look for him. Where did your spell lead?”

“Industrial Road, east of town.”

“Claire, I need you to lead me to Industrial Road, quickly.”

She looks at you, still panicked.

“Claire, I promise I will explain everything but I need you to help me. Can you do that? Please?” You beg.

She nods, leading you through town and to Industrial Road. You put Sam on speakerphone and laid your phone on the dash, focusing on looking for any sign of the Impala or Dean.

“There’s a car there!” Claire says, pointing.

You pull off to the side, slamming the car into park and jump out, leaving Claire and your phone behind and telling her to stay in the car. The Impala is on the side of the road at an angle, both front doors thrown open. You pull out your pistol and flashlight, making your way into the trees. You find Mick first, laying face down, blood seeping into his shirt from a shot to the heart. You still check for a heartbeat, finding nothing. You’re continuing deeper into the trees when you hear a rustle behind you, spinning around with your pistol aimed at the noise.

“Woah, woah, Y/N, it’s me!”

“Dean?” Your eyes register him standing in front you, left eye swollen and blood running down the side of his face. On instinct, you rush forward and wrap your arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I got so scared when Sam called,” you say into his chest. Can’t believe I like these boys this much already.

He pats your back, “yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You good?”

“Oh my God!” you say, realizing you left Sam on the phone in the car. You pull away and run back to the car with Dean following behind. Claire is holding your phone, watching the trees, and she gets out of the car to hand the phone to you when she sees you coming.

“Sam, I found him, he’s okay,” you tell him. “A little beat up but okay.”

You hear a sigh of relief on the other side of the phone. “Good, I’m glad. Take care of things there and come back, okay?”

“Yeah, we will, Sam. See you soon.”

Part Four

79 notes · View notes

ineffableghost · 3 months ago

Note

AO3 may be down, but you know what isn't? Your ask box!

Please enjoy this comment I made about Demon and Angel Professors on Discord:

What I really need on AO3 is a tag for "this is so thoroughly grounded in real experiences it will fundamentally change your views." Demonology, Demon and Angel Professors, Everyday Superhero in the Spider-Man fandom... Like, Demonology was life-changing because of its dive into PTSD and how to recover from traumatic relationships, and it finally got me into therapy. Demon and Angel Professors dug down deep with its message of how disabilities deserve to be accommodated, and over the weeks of reading it, it took me from "I get it, disabilities should be accommodated" to "it's better for everyone if they're accommodated" to "…holy shit, I deserve to have mine accommodated."

Other user: Demon and Angel professors?

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962 133k words of Aziraphale and Crowley being questionably human or questionably supernatural professors. The cute premise is that every year a new crop of students comes to realize they're married. The part that starts getting to you after a few tens of thousands of words is that all the stories revolve around accommodating different disabilities and marginalized identities. Which I'd like to think we all support in theory, but it's story after story after story of "and what would you do in this situation? What if this were their needs? What if it were someone you knew? What if it were a stranger? What if it were yourself?"

The bit I didn't get into there, although I guess I'll get into here, is that I have not, in fact, finished reading it. That's not because it isn't good; it's very, very good. It's because one day I was crouching to get something off a low shelf in the grocery store, and my knee was acting up so I was trying to figure out how I was going to stand up again because the only thing nearby I could use for support was the shelves and I really wasn't sure they wouldn't topple over if I put my weight on them. Here I am, young and healthy so I shouldn't even need anything, except—

I found myself thinking of your fic and it turned my worldview on its head. Going back to reading it after that was... well, it was a bit too much. I already had enough revelations to be grappling with, you know?

So I hope you will take it as a compliment when I say that I feel it's very deserving of the hypothetical "this is so thoroughly grounded in real experiences it will fundamentally change your views" tag, and also its hypothetical sister tag, "...and as a result you may never be able to bring yourself to read it again."

(On a lighter note, there was also a very cute side discussion with everyone being very impressed you managed to make every installment 666 words when most of us have managed that once at most, so props for that as well!)

💜

Definitely a compliment. Thank you, I appreciate it very much. A lot of the Profs is written from my own experiences, it's great to see how deeply that resonates with others.

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j0kers-light · 2 years ago

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His Lighthouse: Losers Aren’t Weepers (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Losers Aren’t Weepers

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Y/n copes with the fact she's seen the infamous face of The Joker in the aftermath of having sex with him. The decision to take their newly found relationship is taken more seriously than before and it only weights on her as well. Will the two new love birds settle quietly within their new role or will things be even more awkward now that they are together?

Authors Note:

I want to thank everyone who sent out thoughts and messages as I struggled with the loss of my furbaby. For a while there I didn't have the mindset or the energy to write, but I found a way. I couldn't leave you all hanging and on a cliffhanger no less!! So here is another installment of my dreams turned fanfic that I hope you all thoroughly enjoy! I truly look forward to any comments and feedback: They are my fuel to keep going!

Taglist!

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angell

Let me know if anyone else would like to be added to the taglist!!

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

Shocking news at the top of the hour.

Popular YA author, Y/N L/N, found dead in her apartment at the age of (insert). Authorities suspect foul play as the young writer was found in her shower with the water still running. Her work precedes her as the famous hit series, Will Hunter Bill is in the works of being turned into a movie starring famous actor...

Okay Y/n, maybe that's a bit too dramatic. Was it too pretentious of you to write your own breaking news headline? You didn't think so since your days were numbered after seeing a glimpse of Joker's bare face.

You were still huddled in the corner of the shower, wet hands covering your eyes and awaiting sudden death. Hopefully Joker would be merciful and make it quick.

A good snap of the neck or perhaps bashing your head into the tiled wall. If he got creative, he could choke you with the loofah string. Once again, writing mystery and thriller novels really broadened your knowledge of ways to kill people.

The possibilities were endless! You just wished Joker hurried up and picked one. You didn't dare to turn around but you ultimately became curious when nothing happened after a while.

Obviously you weren't tripping.

Makeup + fake name = secret. Joker was keeping his true identity from everyone yet here you are alive and well with a portion of that truth. He killed others for less. So why were you still alive? You considered yourself a somewhat lucky person but this didn't feel right. You pinched yourself to see if you were dreaming but the pain confirmed what you already knew. This was really happening. So you tempted fate and stole a peek through your fingers.

Sweet baby Jesus and the grown one too.

The sight was straight out of a Shojo anime. Joker's profile was facing you with sharp lines and dripping with masculinity through the shower fog.

In another life you believed Joker could have been a teenage heartthrob or some famous model. His eyes were closed as he washed the remainder of his makeup off and the swirls of white, red, and black dripped down his toned arms in a tantalizing manner.

And he would tip his head back underneath the shower head like this was some moody cologne commercial! Your heart skipped a beat from the fan service. Now you understand how high schoolers in anime could pop nose bleeds on command. Watching Joker wash off felt illegal. Maybe you did die and this was heaven.

You weren't hiding it anymore. You were openly staring with no shame. The man was all types of fine and right there for your viewing pleasure, heck yeah you were going to indulge!

Joker was foul for hiding his athletic build underneath dark suits and cloaks but you were glad you were the only one that got to see him like this. Each moment you spent with him felt intimate and sacred. Joker was gorgeous and all yours to admire. Without his signature red lipstick, his facial scars were more subdued and not as prominent. If you weren't actively seeking them out, you wouldn't have paid any attention to them.

You were biased of course but who cared about that? His scars took a backseat in your observation. His skin was surprisingly normal in appearance and your hands itched to touch it now that there wasn't any grease paint in the way.

Would it be soft just like you imagined it was? Scratch that. Would Joker allow you to touch him so intimately? You were sure he was going to kill you for catching just a mere glimpse.

You were so caught up in your own head, you didn't see when Joker opened his eyes and noticed that you were staring. He knew you were drifting off into lala land by how distant your e/c eyes were. He dragged a wet hand through his hair before reaching out towards you.

That put an end to your thoughts real quick. This was it; he was gonna kill you.

"Don't kill me! My favorite tv show isn't complete yet!" You screamed when Joker's hand came in contact with your wrist.

He wasn't surprised by the crazy things you said anymore. It was just a trait of yours that he accepted long ago but he did take offense to the former part of your statement.

Your other bouts of nonsense were muffled by Joker covering your lips with his own. You stopped talking and automatically looped your arms around his neck to return the romantic gesture.

Joker was such a good kisser he could quite literally reboot your thought process. It was still reloading when he pulled away to speak.

"M'not gonna kill ya sweetheart. Why would I do that?"

You stuttered trying to come up with a reply as Joker warmed you back up to his touch. The hot water pouring over his shoulder and down your naked chest in a rapid downfall aided his efforts. Anywhere that the water touched, Joker hands followed soon after. You hardly noticed him grabbing your favorite colored loofah and lathering your skin up since his kisses distracted you so well.

He cleaned you so effortlessly– like this was an everyday occasion between the two of you. The level of trust you surrendered to him was both comforting and concerning. You really did trust Joker wholeheartedly. He had free reign with your body to do with as he pleased.

'I slept with Joker. Just what were you thinking, Y/n?' You thought to yourself.

Even worse, you were actively showering with him! The aftercare was far too romantic and it didn't match Joker's character at all.

You weren't quite sure if you liked this soft version of Joker yet. It was unusual to see him so caring and eager to please. Maybe sex changed his perception of things? You doubted it.

He was still clueless about his true feelings but you could still sense his intentions in the way he barely touched your skin with each pass of the shower puff that sent goosebumps to blossom all over your body. Joker was treating you like fine china and given enough time, you could get used to being pampered but right now you kept an eye on him.

As Joker washed your upper body, you finally addressed the elephant in the room.

"Why would you kill me? B-Because I saw your face that's why! I-I know what you—" You gasped when Joker raised his head and stared you down.

You saw an array of freckles scattered across Joker's nose and you really wanted to count each one along with the long eyelashes he had. They fanned across his cheekbones every time he blinked, mesmerizing you with their beauty.

"Yeah? What about it? It was only a matter of time you saw me with-out my makeup." Joker rolled his eyes and continued rubbing the loofah down your back in soothing circles.

You hoped he wasn't downplaying the situation as a coping mechanism. This wasn't something to be taken lightly. He revealed a crucial part of himself! Shouldn't he be angry that you saw his face? You were so confused by his nonchalant attitude.

"Joker.. This is a big deal. I could go to the GCPD with this!"

He knew you weren't going to the police. He rolled his eyes at your empty threat and continued scrubbing you down. You didn't like his sass and reached up to grab his cheek, practically pleading for him to see the bigger picture here. Surely he felt it.

The innocent touch was amplified now that there wasn't a layer of white in the way.

You gained a huge portion of Joker's well guarded trust and you needed to be sure he didn't regret sharing it.

There wasn't much to focus on in the shower yet Joker found a way to avoid eye contact. Your hand felt so warm touching his cheek and it took everything in him to not lean into its comfort.

You faintly registered the mindless shapes the shower puff made on your skin as Joker washed you. His hands were covered in soap as they groped and relaxed on your body with each pass. A man like Joker showing signs of nervousness baffled your brain. You didn't like him so out of sorts and set about calming his nerves.

"Joker look at me." A kaleidoscope of greens immediately returned your gaze.

You saw the color in a brand new light these days. You were forever changed by the unusual hue. It was scary how easy you could decipher what one shade meant over another. Right now, Joker was hiding behind a smokescreen of juniper green indifference. That wouldn't do in your book.

You wanted to drag Joker into a world of acceptance. It was okay to be human. He didn't have to pretend anymore and definitely not around you. Whenever Joker was with you he could be himself and face no judgment. You tried to harness that feeling and translate it into words.

"You know this changes things between us right? We can't go back to.. w-we can't. Ugh screw this! You don't have to pretend with me anymore! I know you now. I shouldn't, but I do. It's okay to be yourself." You finally got your thoughts out and looked at Joker.

He searched your face; for what, you'll never know but apparently he found it. He huffed and dropped the shower puff to cup the back of your neck affectionately.

"I wanna know you too." He mumbled.

Your laugh chiseled away at his cold, dead heart. Since when did he get so soft? Perhaps the exact moment you tripped and fell into his life.

"I'm an open book, you know that."

But that didn't stop Joker from wanting to know more. He wanted to know you word for word, cover to cover. He wanted to immerse himself in the story of Y/n, if you'd let him.

"My favorite one." He mumbled to himself before leaning in.

He kissed you with a subdued energy, savoring what he already knew and learning each new nuance that made you unique along the way. You craned your neck back to deepen the kiss and clawed at anything your needy little hands could grab ahold of. In this case it was Joker's shoulders, still damp from the shower.

Your water bill would be extremely high this month but screw it, that didn't matter right now. Joker's mysterious aura and the hot shower blended together in a wonderful way that clouded your brain from any rational thought.

It felt silly to ever think that Joker would kill you especially since he was steering your body backwards into the shower tiles with love on the brain. You arched your back, gasping from the cold surface and Joker quickly swallowed up the sound while silently commanding you to jump up into his arms with a rough squeeze of your thighs.

You broke away from his lips hesitating, "W-What about your leg?"

His ongoing injury constantly nagged your mind. He carried you just fine out of the warehouse but that could have very well been due to adrenaline. The last you remembered he was recovering from a nasty infection.

Joker grinned and moved his hands to cup your backside before he lifted you up into his arms. From this angle you could look down into his swirling dark eyes. He thought your frown was cute and replied coyly.

"I got it checked. Doc said it needs more time to heal properly but—" Joker flexed his arms pitching you higher in his grasp. Your high pitched squeal of fright made him chuckle.

"I'm not gonna drop ya, Y/n. But uh... you're stuck with me for five more months."

Was he serious? You arched an eyebrow at Joker. Then you remembered the mutual agreement the two of you made that fateful day.

You volunteered to be his nurse in exchange for your life. Joker would rest and recover while keeping a low profile at your apartment then he would be out of your life, that is until feelings and other outside forces extended the original timeframe well past its due date. It was supposed to be two weeks tops dealing with the notorious clown. Almost a month later and Joker had fully integrated himself into your life. You couldn't get rid of him even if you tried.

Your original decision to help a wanted criminal in need clearly went off the rails but could you handle Joker for five more months?

That was enough time for him to officially move in and for you to develop deeper (toxic) feelings, not like you already have, and start adding labels to things that clearly had no business being labeled. But you found yourself unable to tear your gaze from Joker. He had a way of sucking you into his orbit with no guarantee if you would make it out alive.

You felt like Icarus skirting too close to Joker and his fervent destructive powers.

You had to remind yourself that Joker was just a temporary diversion before the inevitability of life tore the two of you apart. He was not a 'happy ever after' book troupe. He couldn't be your endgame, but that didn't mean you would waste the time you did have with him. If this arrangement was only temporary, then you were going to make the most out of every last second. Starting right now.

You wrapped your legs tighter around Joker's waist and played with a wet strand of his hair.

He desperately needed to wash it. "Wow, just five months? Whatever will I do with you?" You teased him.

You were convinced Joker's eyes glowed. "I can think of a lot of things I can do to you, Bunny." He dropped you down just a tad and you felt his growing erection rub against you.

Oh. Oh...

And he had the audacity to call you a bunny. It had barely been fifteen minutes and he was already in the mood for round two. You thanked the gods up above for Joker's stamina. Your last fling called it a night after the first round that hardly lasted ten minutes. Side note: you didn't get to cum. And here Joker was spoiling you rotten in the same hour.

You looked away, "You are seriously a danger to my health."

Joker grinned and repeated his statement from earlier. "Buuuut did you die sweetheart?"

You flushed a faint maroon and scoffed. "Yeah! My hair did! Florence is gonna murder me for not lasting a full month." You patted your braids that were being exposed to the elements even as you spoke.

Unfortunately, Joker wasn't listening to you nor did he care.

He was too busy grinding his dick against your folds and mapping out your plushy curves with his hands. You shivered when he traced your spine with his damp fingers and felt yourself grow wetter. As much as Joker liked holding you in his arms, he did need to get off of his injured leg. He spotted a seat nearby and carried you over.

It was the same bench you used to hold your candles during a nice soak. He wondered how it found its way into the shower but didn't think too much about it.

Joker sat down and plopped you down right on top of his hard on. Green eyes immediately found your gaze and for a moment– time stood still.

The steady stream of water still reached this section of the shower and it beat upon your back in gentle waves however it was nothing compared to the fervent heat that was Joker. The man ran like a furnace and his touch was even hotter. Joker continued to prove your theory of him being the sun correct and you would gladly get burned just to be in his presence. You loved playing with fire.

One day it would be your downfall.

"Lean back Y/n." He whispered.

You tilted your head and Joker admired your puppy-like confusion for a brief second before he pushed you back himself. Your startled moan was the confirmation that his idea had worked. A small jet of water traveled down your chest and concentrated straight onto your clit.

You held onto his shoulders afraid of falling over. "J-Joker!"

"I got ya.. Trust me, Y/n. I got ya." With that heated vow uttered, Joker lowered you down onto his cock. There was no resistance as his dick split you back open.

He was successful in preparing you for entry well without your knowledge. Your body was so responsive to him it was actually rather embarrassing. A little kiss here, a subtle but firm touch there; Joker could play you like an instrument.

You just had sex with Joker yet he managed to take your breath away again. The searing stretch was making you lose all train of thought. It was just too good. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open in a moan that never escaped your throat.

The trickle of water kept your clit preoccupied while Joker came to a stop, fully sheathed within your warmth. He would never get used to your vice-like grip. After a shaky deep breath, he found the strength to move and slowly rocked you back and forth, groaning from the feeling.

You whimpered at the friction Joker created but he wasn't satisfied with the gentle sway. You deserved so much more. He needed more from you.

One of his hands was big enough to cup your entire back and it was a nice reminder to keep it arched. Not like you needed a reminder since the heavy drag of Joker's dick grazing your walls had your back naturally trying to snap in half. You didn't know whether to accept him or shy away from the sensation.

Joker picked up on your inner dilemma. He felt the tension in your body and also with how you clung to his shoulders with a grimace on your face. He knew exactly what you were worried about.

"I won't let you fall, Y/n." You met Joker's gaze before bashfully looking away.

You decided to trust Joker and relaxed your body within his hold. He felt the transfer of control and for a brief moment, he almost exploited it, (he really wanted to) but he decided to focus on shifting your weight better so he could begin bouncing you up and down on his dick.

The only thing keeping you from tipping over backwards was Joker's arms and you laid on them moaning out in bliss. You felt put on display for his gaze and tried shielding yourself away but Joker read your body language and slowed down.

"No no no no.. Y/n. Don't be shyyy. Look at me." It wasn't a request, more so a demand– one that you quickly obeyed.

Your e/c met his iridescent green. "Good girl." He grinned and sped back up. After Joker said that, your brain unplugged from the socket.

You couldn't think straight with the heat from the shower and Joker's thrusts into your pussy happening all at once. Each jarring thrust up into your pussy had you gasping for air and clawing at Joker's forearms. He could see all of you splayed out in his arms and he didn't take his eyes off of you less he miss something.

Your breast bounced with each thrust and the water fell off your body in hypnotic patterns. Every inch of you was a work of art, even your moans had a special pitch to them that he could listen to for hours on repeat. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, most likely getting your braids soaking wet although you hardly cared.

You were adrift in a sea of pleasure.

Joker was utterly entranced by you and mumbled who knows what under his breath. You raised your head, straining to hear his nonsensical praises and noticed something spectacular. You weren't the only one caught up in the moment. Joker's cheeks had adopted a rosy hue like he was running a marathon and his handsome smirk was front and center even as he tipped his head back groaning.

"You.. ahh m-make me feel so good.." He canted your name like a prayer and slammed you down harder on his dick, making you whimper. "Sooo. Good." He growled.

This wasn't about gentle touches anymore. This became nothing but primal urges and the pursuit to come undone. If you didn't know any better, you would've been fooled into thinking Joker had it out for your pussy with the way he abused it for his pleasure.

Joker yanked you upright by your neck and you moaned right in his face as his other hand returned to your hip gripping it tight. More bruises to worry about later.

Joker's grip on your waist helped him maintain the brutal pace he created and he would not stop until something deep inside the both of you snapped. The distinctive sound of skin slapping against wet skin echoed throughout the glass enclosure– much louder than the shower still running. Funny how he brought you in here to get clean yet achieved the exact opposite. A shame about the wasted water though.

Perhaps he could help pay your water bill as an apology. You quoted a rough estimate in between a series of hard thrusts. He thought it was cute how your brain blurted out such insignificant facts mid sex.

He was doing a good job of making you go dumb on his cock. Joker loved seeing this new submissive side of you. There was a hot sensation slowly spreading from your core straight to your head and Joker's hand clenching around your throat made the tip of your nose tingle as well.

You would never have imagined you'd have a choking kink if Joker didn't introduce you to the idea. You wondered what other debauchery you'd discover with this madman. Hidden versions of yourself were being forced to the surface. Joker was unlocking your inner slut at every turn, why not embrace it? This was only temporary after all.

If only it weren't. Regardless, you warned Joker about your impending climax with the limited air supply you had. He didn't let up his grip on your throat just because you wanted to talk. In fact, he squeezed even harder.

He took your slurred speech as an open invitation to let go himself. He relocated his arms to wrap around your body in a fierce embrace and you sucked in a deep breath; getting dizzy off the ability to breathe again. Holding you like this was a power high Joker had never felt before. It was beyond incredible keeping you safe while tearing you apart at the seams.

His touch made you this way, no one else's. Only he got to see you writhing in pleasure crying out his name. You were all his.

You gave Joker full control to do whatever he wanted with you. That rush of control spurred Joker on to drive his dick deeper into you. He would never hold back when it came to you.

His bulbous tip repeatedly hit your g spot causing a moan to get caught in your throat. Joker felt your fingers grip his wet hair and glanced your way. Your eyes were heavy lidded but locked onto his dark forest green orbs.

He saw your tongue dart out to lick your lips and dove in. He breathed in your exhale and grinned when you chased after his lips wanting a kiss. He teased you once or twice until he granted your unspoken desire. It was a clash of teeth and tongue but the sheer desperation was felt in each lip lock.

He could taste the thought you didn't dare speak aloud. It wasn't the right time and you didn't want to ruin the mood despite your lips already parting to do just that.

You rested your forehead on Joker's and shuddered when you began to teeter over the edge. "Joker, I.. l-"

He interrupted you by biting your lower lip. He tugged at it and witnessed the exact moment your brain turned into mush. Any other thoughts fizzled away as you stared into a green void.

Maybe the heat was getting to you because you swore you heard Joker whisper a soft, "I know." on your lips before stars exploded and you crumbled apart one atom at a time.

Joker laughed as your world came crashing down. It was better than any heist he could ever plan and no reward was sweeter than watching your pleasure consume you whole.

Your body twitched uncontrollably in his hold, so he held you tighter. "That's it Bunny. L-let it ahh.. out. Breathe and give it all to meee." You obeyed without a fuss.

Joker tried to prolong his own release but your fluttering walls gripped him so tight he couldn't escape. Not like he wanted to. Joker wanted to stay buried deep inside your pussy forever but he wouldn't last another minute within this glorious torture.

He chanted praises to your name as he chased after his own climax, not once caring about your overstimulated body weeping for mercy.

Your nails left claw marks on his shoulders and upper back as you cried out for more. Like you could handle anymore. You were seconds away from a heatstroke. Maybe this was the way Joker would kill you off. This was fine. It was a great way to go. You definitely had to applaud him for choosing a fun method because Joker turning you into his personal fleshlight was euphoric.

You were a ragdoll crying on his lap as he worked himself to a peak he never reached before. He thought the first round in the bedroom was mind blowing, you just kept getting better and better.

The steam only hyphened the rush of endorphins as Joker lost the ability to think straight when he came. His lips brushed your ear and you got to hear every grunt and incredibly hot broken moan leave Joker's mouth. How utterly amazing it was to render Gotham City's most notorious criminal into a moaning mess. You would celebrate that feat later.

Joker mindlessly grinded his cock into you but gradually came to a stop after he was spent. You were grateful since the overstimulation was beginning to hurt.

The shower was still running in the background though you hardly heard it over the sound of your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. Joker was in the same boat, panting like mad, but he still had the urge to stroke your skin– he still needed physical contact well after the sex was over to ground him back to Earth.

You clung to Joker absolutely numb, trying to come to when he decided to let you go.

The sudden loss of him snapped you out of your afterglow. Joker slipped out of you and laid you down on the bench so he could go retrieve the long forgotten loofah off of the shower floor.

You just blinked owlishly, ignoring the trickle of cum leaking out of you. You hoped to regain brain function soon.

Joker stood under the main stream of water for a minute (secretly pulling himself together) before returning to your side. And like he didn't give you another earth shattering orgasm– Joker picked up right where he left off, rubbing the shower puff along your body and bestowing kisses along the way.

He cleared his throat when your body jerked at his touch but continued unfazed. Joker picked up your limbs to give them gentle scrub downs before moving on. He was a blurry figure focused on the task at hand in your eyes.

His actions confused you. Your curiosity couldn't take it anymore. "W-why are you being so nice to me?"

Joker glanced at you for a spell until his eyes averted back to your stomach. He avoided your question by rubbing your organic soap into your skin in tantalizing circles. You grabbed his wrist to get his attention.

Joker popped a bubble on your waist and shrugged his shoulders. "Do you wanT me to be mean, Y/n?"

On cue, a dark sinister air overtook Joker's features. You secretly loved it. You knew Joker could flip a switch and be mean if you simply asked him to, but that's not what you wanted– at least not right now. He was avoiding the point here.

This soft, doting version of Joker would take some getting used to but you didn't hate it per se. It was just.. different. A new concept. You found the energy to sit up before standing on your own two feet. Joker rose to his full height to tower over you and kept a cautious hand outstretched– ready to catch you when your knees would eventually give out.

You took a step forward and just like he predicted, you stumbled. Your Dark Prince was there for you to lean on. He did get a little cocky witnessing your weak state (that he caused) and received another glare from you.

Once you were stable enough, he quickly spun you around.

"Joker!" You slapped your hands on the subway tiles in front of you to brace yourself. If he was gonna take you again, all he had to do was ask.

You jumped when hot water hit your body from all sides in a calm drizzle. Joker had redirected the shower head to suit his needs again. Since when did he become an expert on your shower controls?

Your breasts were squished against the wall as he kissed the back of your neck and idly scrubbed your back. "You were saying?" He reminded you.

How did he expect you to reply like this? His hands were massaging your soap in with a firm touch and his tall frame caged you against the wall like a frightened animal. It was definitely a turn on.

"L-Like right now! You're washing my back and giving off soft daddy vibes. WAIT!" You looked over your shoulder at Joker's amused grin. "What I meant to say is... your hands are used to detonating bombs and carving smiles on people's faces, not washing..."

You moaned aloud when he grabbed a handful of your breasts with wet, soapy hands. His words floated into your ear.

"I don't hear ya complainin' doll." Joker kissed the back of your burning ears and slotted his hands down to your waist. He cursed under his breath and you flushed harder at his compliment.

It was truly amazing how Joker could make you feel both sexy and insecure at the same time.

His touch danced across your body like a skater on ice but you felt the possessive drags of his fingers carve into your dark skin. Underneath his sweet caresses was a man who could tear you apart if he wanted to. You turned your head and met Joker's neon green eyes again. It was literally like staring into a hungry wolf's eyes.

Your only coherent thought: You couldn't believe Joker actually covered up such a handsome face every day. And his: He couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you gave him a chance.

Both thoughts were made at the same time and both of you came to another agreement without saying a single word.

You had nothing to lose throwing yourself into this torrid affair. He would lose nothing in return. Five more months with you. Did he deserve such an honor? Probably not, but it was all he could spare. Any more wouldn't be fair to either of you. Some things weren't meant to be.

Neither of you were quite sure who kissed who first. You simply fell into Joker's open arms and the shell protecting his heart cracked open to let you in.

"We should seriously get out, Joker. My hands are all pruney."

A pale hand rose up from under the water to grab yours. Joker held your hand up to his line of sight and hummed in agreement but didn't move to exit the claw foot tub.

You had venomously complained about your future water bill while in the shower with Joker well over an hour ago. Of course he didn't relocate immediately upon your request. He had his fun showing off his meaner side and used your hips like handlebars while railing into you from behind.

You had nothing to hold onto as Joker forced more orgasms out of you. You had already passed your personal record but you'd never tell Joker that and stroke his ego even more. It became an obsession to see you come undone. With that knowledge, he would be unstoppable.

He loved extracting orgasms from you probably more than he loved watching Gotham burn.

You must've passed out in the shower since the next thing you knew, Joker had you lying on his chest submerged in the bathtub. He didn't try any more funny business here. The time in the bathtub was strictly used to clean up the mess that he made in the shower.

Your head was still spinning but you felt his hands wash you properly before he leaned back with you in his arms. Joker mysteriously kept the water hot as the both of you lay in the bathtub soaking and enjoying each other's company.

He took up drawing lazy patterns on the bruises forming along your body. He didn't mean to be so rough.. but he literally couldn't help himself when it came to you. Joker tried so hard to be gentle but you tested his patience time and time again until he finally snapped.

You got a glimpse of what Joker was truly capable of and now you were facing the consequences.

Although you would happily poke the bear as many times necessary to feel this good again. Sex with Joker was indescribable. You knew it wouldn't last so you slid your hand from his chest up into his now shampooed hair. Apparently you were the one who washed it in between getting your back blown out in the shower.

Months ago you thought that all of Joker's hair was dyed his signature green. On the contrary, his hair was a beautiful shade of brown with various hues of green running throughout it. You were dying to see its true potential, blow dried and styled. After all, Joker was an attractive man.

His choice in hair color completed his overall terrifying look as The Joker, yet for once you wanted to see a normal version of the man who terrorized Gotham. He already peeled back a layer of himself by removing his makeup. What was next?

You glanced up and was taken aback by his raw beauty all over again. Joker's head was reclined on the back of the tub and his eyes were closed, looking every bit a Greek god. He appeared to be asleep and as much as you wanted him to get his rest, (the man rarely slept) you had an urge to kiss him.

You were leaning in to claim your prize when a piercing gaze startled you.

His eyes were so warm like two cups of matcha. They displayed his satisfaction and relaxed state all because of you. You were unable to look away.

"Can I... uh helP you with something?" He asked.

Dewy fingers rose from the water and dripped down your sides. Joker must have some kind of obsession with your hips since he couldn't keep his hands off of them. He loved exploring all of your body but his hands always found their way back to his favorite handles.

"I... um. We should.." You stalled and Joker arched an eyebrow, urging you along. "We should get out. I need to moisturize." You finally mustered out.

You didn't wait for him. Seconds after you mumbled your suggestion, you rose from the bathtub and stepped down the platform towards the towels Joker set aside.

Joker eyed you like a hawk toweling off before you sat down on the wooden bench (dragged from the shower and put back in its rightful place) to start lotioning up.

His nose was hit with the rich smell of shea butter. He could watch you hum and lather your body up with lotion all day long. Not one inch of your skin was spared from the enriching moisture. You ended your session with a generous amount of butter directly onto your face. You glistened like a shiny new penny under the warm glowing lights.

Unfortunately you ruined the show by donning a bathrobe and tying it around your waist tight. That's when you looked up at Joker still submerged in the tub.

"Well? Aren't you getting out?" You laughed.

"You're the one who hopped out unexpectedly, Y/n. I was fine with just relaxing." Joker stressed his syllables again but rolled his eyes when you didn't look impressed.

He pulled the drain with a sigh before standing up, not catching your reaction when he stepped out of the tub bare naked and dripping wet.

"Sheesh.."

Joker quirked an eyebrow at you. Why were you shocked at something you've already seen and touched? It didn't make any sense to Joker but he was a chiseled Adonis, tall, mysterious and deadly in your eyes.

You cleared your throat and turned around to pout at your reflection in the mirror. Your faux locs were beyond saving. With the steady stream of water from the shower, to practically drowning them in the tub, they were waterlogged and puffing up at the scalp. You only wore them for three weeks tops.

"Great. I'm gonna have to do my hair tomorrow."

You didn't notice Joker walking up behind you but felt when he rested his chin on the top of your head and returned your gaze through the mirror.

"I can help you uh take them down.. ya know." He picked up a loc and twirled it in between his fingertips.

Your doubtful eye roll had him sighing. "Why so serious Y/n? I offered up my services did I not?"

"I wouldn't have to take them down in the first place if someone were a bit more careful while having his way with me! Were you trying to sweat my braids out?" You asked.

"Yeah." Joker said it like it was common knowledge.

You dragged a hand over your face and ignored your eye twitching. "Sure you did. Do you even know how to take down braids, this particular kind at that, Joker?"

"I can show ya way better than I can tell ya." He smirked, glancing down at your neck poking out of the fluffy bathrobe you wore. The first of many love bites were visible, a testament to Joker's insatiable lust. The rest would develop as the night dragged on if he didn't add any more. You had no doubt that he would.

Who knows how long you spent in the bathroom with Joker. The sun had already set when you two finally made it inside your penthouse and you didn't have any clocks nearby to tell the actual time.

There were a ton of questions you wanted to hound Joker with but he didn't give you a moment of reprieve to ask. How did he find you so fast? Why did he care enough to come rescue you after two weeks of radio silence? How many cameras did he have installed in your apartment, and where did the two of you stand at the current moment?

Of course you two shared a moment in the shower, amongst other things, but you were a woman of clarity. You liked important things written in black and white so no discrepancies could be found.

Five months was a big deal compared to two weeks. Did Joker really want to stay in your apartment for that long? Would he contribute anything to its upkeep? How were you going to keep him a secret this time?

"Aht aht aht, Y/n. Stop thinking." You blinked back to the present to feel Joker turning you around to face him. "I know that look from anywhere. You don't have to think about anything else, at least not tonight. You've been through a loT today. Let me handle the rest."

"But–"

He shut you up with a kiss. "Can I borrow your lotion?" His random request threw you off guard and your soft 'huh' wasn't any better.

Joker was already reaching for the bottle before your brain caught up to what he was asking.

"Go get dressed and meet back up in my room. Bring all of your uh hair stuff. Actually... whatever you need for the rest of the night. You're sleeping with meee." He kissed you again and shoved you towards the door.

In your confusion you didn't comment on his rough treatment. "Wait what? I am?"

One look at his green eyes had you turning to do as he said.

"Geez, sir yes sir." You mumbled under your breath.

"I heard that Y/n."

You heard his footsteps following yours and quickly slammed the door closed. You'd regret that later, judging by his sinister laugh.

Right now you had a mini slumber party to prepare for.

Your heart was beating wildly in preparation for whatever Joker had in store. As you walked towards your bedroom, you eyed the clock in the kitchen. It was well past midnight.

"Tch. Good thing I don't have work in the morning." You joked to yourself. Your hand rested on the brass doorknob of your private bedroom.

You wanted to trust that Joker respected your privacy and didn't install any cameras in here. But how could you be so sure? The handle was cool to the touch and you opened it with caution. A rush of cold air greeted you and the sight of pristine conditions and an undisturbed room.

You knew how you left it down to the placement of the pillows on the bed to the stack of books on your nightstand. No one had entered in your absence, at least that you could tell. And so you breathed a sigh of relief. This room was your sanctuary and you'd wage war if anyone disturbed it. Even with Joker.

It was then you remembered why you were in here. Pajamas and hair supplies. You honestly didn't have the energy to take your braids down tonight, especially after knowing it was so late. The darkness pouring in from your windows confirmed the hour. Gotham City's nightlife was thriving down on the streets below but with your current mindset, you didn't care much for it. You were beat after today's harrowing events that were slowly creeping up on you.

Not including surviving through Joker's three plus romps in the shower, a girl was tiied. But if Joker was offering to do all the work then by all means.

"Might as well change into some clothes for the night." You walked over to your closet where overhead lights illuminated a room full of racks and drawers.

Joker mentioned you were sleeping with him tonight. Should you wear what you normally wore to bed or jazz it up to try and seduce him again? Not like he needed any more incentive. Joker was quite the aggressive lover. If he wanted something, he simply took it, no questions asked.

You rubbed your sore waist from learning that the hard way. Maybe that was enough sex for the day. Your vagina would thank you tomorrow morning after some much needed rest. With that thought in mind, you stuck with your usual pjs and quickly put them on before standing in front of the floor length mirror. Comfy and suggestive but not overly so.

You knew Joker wouldn't keep his hands to himself, not after getting a taste of you. Five months of this delicious torture. Oh, whatever would you do? Milk it for all its worth.

You grabbed your trusty rat tooth comb, a bin of hair clips to part your hair, a satin bonnet, and your trusty scissors. A bag for disposal and another that contained your detangling creams and aftercare serums were grabbed before you selected an old towel to collect any stray hairs or wayward hair products. This wasn't your first rodeo.

You knew how long this was gonna take. Joker would probably tap out well before he started once he realized just how tedious this task was. You made a short pitstop to your living room to grab your laptop to work on. It would help you stay awake in case you had to take over. You were planning on it in fact.

Everything was hauled back into Joker's bedroom. You proceeded to dump everything you collected on the bed sheets. You were straightening things out when the bathroom door opened behind you.

"Is that everything?"

Joker didn't mean to startle you, he just had that effect on people. Occupational hazard. He walked past you to the large dresser in the room and tugged a drawer open to grab some clothes to change into. He should've known that would cause a commotion in that pretty head of yours.

"Woah woah now, wait a minute! Since when did you get clothes and make yourself comfortable in here? Honestly Joker! You're acting like nothing is wrong when in reality, if you haven't forgotten, I was kidnapped! There is so much I need to ask you but you're ignoring it!" You shouted.

He chose not to answer in favor of choosing between dark grey sleeping pants over a deep navy pair. He never slept in pajamas before since he needed to be ready at a moment's notice. He actually looked forward to a full night's rest again. On a real mattress no less. You were slowly domesticating him back to society, one small act of charity at a time. But back to the present.

He had clothes now. Joker wasn't the only one who went shopping last week. He hit the town stocking up on essentials he would need if he was staying with you. The original duffel bag Frost smuggled into the apartment with only a suit and two spare shirts wasn't gonna cut it anymore.

You were unaware but Joker had already moved in and filled your place with his personal effects. He didn't have much but you were bound to notice after a while.

"Joker. You need to start talking. What am I getting myself into here?" You begged him. You had more to say but seeing Joker drop his towel and step into a pair of pants had you tongue tied.

Why were you acting like you'd never seen Joker naked before? Sure it was quite the sight but still! You really needed to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl and focus for once.

"Ah- ahem.. um as I was saying.. What did you get into while I was gone?"

Joker tied the drawstrings together and steadily approached you.

You held your ground until the back of your knees hit the bed and you were forced to sit down. Joker then stood above you eyeing you with an unreadable expression. You really had to get used to looking at his face without any makeup on. It was like looking at a completely different person.

The staring match ended when Joker averted his eyes down at the supplies you brought.

It was all things he was familiar with or could use without your assistance. The laptop however sparked his curiosity but he returned his focus back on you by picking up a lone braid off your chest.

He played with the ends as he spoke. "A loT happened in two weeks Y/n. I was tired of waiting around, sooo I made good use of my time. I did say, You'd be back and I'd be waiting. Now look at you! asking questions to things that shouldn't concern you."

Joker saw your sassy comment queuing up and tapped your lips with a pale finger.

"Ahhtt aht aht shush. All that matters is that you came back and that I'm here to stay. Suck it up and deal with being in the dark. I think it's uhh payback for leaving me high and dry for that annoying billionaire. Which reminds me.."

You gasped when Joker trailed his finger down to your neck, playing with the first hickey he made.

"How did Brucie handle being rejected, hm?"

You scoffed and batted Joker's hand away while doing your best to drown out his sinister laugh. He was enjoying the suffering of another person way too much. But this was The Joker you were talking about here. So you fought back.

"Sooo I'm supposed to ignore the fact that you're hiding things from me all because you think I'm hiding things about my time spent with Bruce? What is this? A game of tit for tat?" You offered.

"Exactly!" Joker beamed and bopped you on the nose. You jumped by default.

"But that's not fair, Joker! I'm willing to tell you everything that happened while I was gone. Are you?" You snapped back.

That seemed to zap Joker's joyful mood. You saw his eyes cloud over and become serious. Without warning, Joker reached behind you to grab the scissors and cut a few of your braids.

"WAIT JOKER! THAT'S TOO HIGH!"

He rolled his eyes and tossed the cut braids onto the floor. "It's called... shrinkage my dear. Turn around. Lemme cut the rest." He was already snapping the scissors together, eyeing your faux locs like a madman.

"No! I'm cutting the rest! You don't know how long my natural hair is and I definitely don't trust you with scissors anymore." You eyed him warily as he leaned back, clutching imaginary pearls.

"You don't trust me? I could've drowned you in the bathtub or snapped your neck in the shower but now you're afraid of scissors? I'm disappointed you think so.. lowly of me! Too bad you already accepted my offer twice now. Turn around. Now."

You couldn't argue with his dom energy.

With a pout you did as you were told, but not without an attitude. You flicked your remaining braids over your shoulder (most likely hitting Joker in the face) before opening your laptop.

The distinctive sound of hair being cut made you change that attitude real quick and apologize.

The only sound in the room was the constant tapping of computer keys and the light patter of rain against the window.

The time in the bottom corner of your laptop read 3:39AM but that didn't stop Joker from his current job nor you from getting a few more pages added to your WIP. The two of you worked in silence, feeding off each other's energy without conflict.

After Joker scared you with how close he cut to your natural hair (he was thoroughly impressed by how long it was) he made up for his blunder by working efficiently in the removal process. It was almost like he had done this before, but you weren't going to ask.

Probably another prison thing. His agile fingers unbraiding the artificial strands while gently detangling your natural hair from its hold. It was rather soothing. You kept falling asleep much to Joker's annoyance.

"Y/n keep your head up." He slapped the back of your neck with the end of the comb. It brought back memories of your mother doing the same thing on Saturday mornings. She loved styling your hair but had little patience for you if you didn't cooperate.

The sharp sting had you sitting up straight on reflex. Your hands hovered over the keyboard trying to remember where you left off before you dozed off. You were so exhausted you began brainstorming aloud to stay awake. "Uhh what's a good synonym for hot?"

"Stifling. Sweltering. You." Joker suggested.

He knew you weren't listening when you thanked him and continued typing— so he looked over your shoulder at what had you so scatterbrained. The font was ridiculously small but he knew a novel when he saw one.

"Mmm? Another L/N masterpiece? What riveting tale are you drafting this time?"

You slowly turned your head like an owl and came face to face with Joker reading your rough draft over your shoulder. The lid of your laptop was immediately slammed shut.

"I don't think you uh... saved your worK, Y/n." He joked. Joker watched you shake your head, now free, save for one pesky loc, and stand up from the bed.

You had been sitting for way too long and your legs had fallen asleep but Joker was there to catch you (again) before you hurt yourself. "T-Thanks."

Joker let go of your elbow. "Don't let it happen again." He frowned at your retreating form. "Where you goin' sweet thing? I'm not done yet."

He heard your annoyed groan coming from the bathroom.

"You and these ridiculous nicknames Joker. They just get worse and worse. I'm brushing my teeth if you must know and," He heard the water running, drowning out your voice until you spoke up, "You're more than welcome to join me!"

It sounded boring but he'd do any mundane task if it was with you. He was getting too soft. Joker sighed but made his way into the bathroom and saw you dancing to some unknown beat while brushing your teeth.

You made the otherwise messy task look absolutely adorable. He leaned against the doorframe to admire you in your natural element. It was peaceful until you tossed his long forgotten brush case at him.

"C'mon Joker! Ideally two minutes on each side if you want to keep kissing me in the future." You had spat out your paste and was swishing some mouthwash around as your hands tackled the last braid in your hair.

Joker did a marvelous job taking them down with the least amount of hair loss possible. The last piece was freed from your real hair and you shook your puffy mane out into a big afro. You definitely had to wash it tomorrow. You rested your palms on the sink when Joker walked up behind you in awe.

You saw his green eyes taking in the atrocity that was your natural texture. "I uh... that's a loT of hair, Y/n. May I?" He brought a hand up, hesitating. You eyed it warily.

Normally your hair was a hands off type deal. Only you or Florence touched it but Joker's genuine curiosity was too cute to deny. He wasn't a rude Karen in the supermarket touching it unprovoked like it was some freak attraction or a snotty nose kid who thought it was cotton candy or their next toy.

Joker was asking for permission so you obliged him. You wouldn't make a habit of it though. "You do know you were just taking it down, Joker."

"That's different. I was taking out the fake stuff. This is you. The real you." His words stirred up butterflies in your stomach.

You rinsed out your mouth and gestured for Joker to come closer. He wasted no time sinking his fingers into your tresses. His uneven fingernails worked wonders scratching/massaging your scalp. You couldn't hold back the pornographic moan in your throat.

"Ohhh it's like that huh?" He eyed your blissful face in the mirror and tested out a theory.

He intensified the pressure and was rewarded with your head tipping back into his touch. "Just like a puppy. Maybe I should call you that instead of Bunny."

And there went the mood. You groaned and backed away.

Joker frowned when you turned on the sink faucet. "Wash your hands and brush your teeth. You are so weird."

So are you. He thought. He did what you asked and begrudgingly brushed his teeth under your watchful eye.

It was nice knowing the yellow tint was just harmless paint and not his actual teeth— it was a huge turn off the first time you kissed him. You were so caught up in the moment you didn't interrogate him about it. Thankfully you came to your senses and fast. If Joker was staying under your roof he would abide by your rules. Personal hygiene was a given. You eyed his half air dried hair with a pensive stare.

Its lax state made you refocus on your unbound hair. You were too tired to wash and style it, so a protective bun would have to do for the night. You set to work throwing all of the wild frizz into a high bun and securing it with a silk scarf before topping it with your go-to nightcap.

Joker was finishing up his dental care but was distracted by watching your nightly routine. "You sure you don't wanna–"

"Nope! That's a problem for tomorrow me. I am beyond exhausted Joker. I just wanna sleep and forget that today ever happened. Again." You smirked his way, hinting at his successful method of distracting you earlier.

He smiled back and dried off his mouth with a nearby towel. He was expecting red to transfer onto the white material but being barefaced around others was something new, even for him.

He couldn't believe he trusted you with this. Just like you said, there was no going back. Joker was still lost in his thoughts and failed to hear you complain about your absent lip balm. He snapped out of it when he noticed your frantic searching.

"What is it?" Joker asked while looking around the bathroom for something he'd never seen before.

"It must be in my bathroom then. I'll go grab it and meet you in bed?" Honestly, you didn't mean to word it like a question but you were a little nervous about sharing a bed with Joker tonight.

He hardly gave you a choice on the matter but being an only child and not having any friends, you never had to share before. How would this work? Would you be the little spoon or what? Were you two moving too fast? What if he only wanted sex from you? And the spiraling thoughts began.

You jumped when Joker grabbed your shoulders. He said your name loudly to finally get your attention, "Go grab whatever you need and come to bed."

Orders. You could follow orders. You could overthink later. You nodded and left to get your balm, leaving Joker to stand in the bathroom alone. He sighed and returned to his room to clean up the mess he made and prepare for bed.

He only hoped you overcame your obvious fear and decided to join him. You weren't afraid to have sex with him but sleeping in the same bed was where you crossed the line? Of all things to be worried about, you chose the silliest thing but he accepted your weird quirks and hyperactive brain at this point.

He could only wait and hope you returned. What's the worst that could happen? So what if you didn't show?

He would roll over and catch some z's while contemplating what he said or did that drove you away. If only you didn't have that nasty habit of running away from your problems, it's what got the two of you so deep in this.... this.

What was this? A situationship? Friends with benefits (Joker laughed at that one) or was this an attempt at an actual relationship? He surely hoped it was the latter.

He would be a fool to pass up the chance to date you, unconventional circumstances notwithstanding. Joker could play the aloof game all day long but deep down he was panicking too. Should he go check up on you? Were you coming back? Maybe the reality of today's events were finally crashing down on you. He saw your mini panic attack moments before in the bathroom. What if he came on too strong and scared you away? He couldn't stomach another cool off period with you.

Joker wanted to hit the ground running with this romantic stuff and taking baths, fixing your hair, and falling asleep next to you were just a few things he wanted to experience during his short time with you.

There was so much more he wanted to do. Joker breathed a sigh of relief when you walked through the doorway wearing a sheepish smile.

"Ah sorry it took so long. I forgot to lock up and then I wanted to grab my phone and... yeah." You glanced away from Joker propped up on the headboard and already under the covers.

He looked like he belonged there. You were intimidated by his heated stare.

You shuffled your feet stalling– anything to avoid jumping into bed and coming on too eager. Joker seemed to notice your dilemma and chuckled to himself.

He crooked a tan finger, "C'mere Y/n."

You stared at it in longing. This was it. Yeah sex with Joker was great, more than great actually. That same finger urging you closer did unspeakable things to you.

But at the end of the day it was just that. Sex. But sleeping with Joker, literally, was a level of intimacy you were scared to explore. He inadvertently saved your life twice now and revealed a crucial part of himself to you. It was time to return the gesture.

With a deep sigh you slowly walked over to the side of the bed and climbed in. The plush bedding gave way to your weight and falling into Joker's arms was that much easier. You could never go back to sleeping alone if this was how couples went to sleep.

His arms were bands of warm steel trapping you into his dark cocoon. He made sure you were comfortable before throwing the covers over both of your bodies. You were rigid as a statue but quickly melted when you felt Joker's content sigh fan against the back of your neck.

Of course Joker would be the big spoon. That made you smile, then the weight of today's events hit you like a bulldozer. Your eyelids grew heavy and you didn't know you yawned until Joker cooed in your ear.

"Aww. She's all tuckered out. Try to get some sleep I guess." You were going to reply but he reached over you to hit the nightstand light, plunging the two of you into darkness.

Then it was nothing but absolute silence and the twinkling lights of Gotham City shining through the window. You had to say something. You could feel his arms subconsciously winding around you like a security blanket as his breathing slowed down.

It didn't dawn on you that maybe Joker was just as exhausted as you were. Yet you felt compelled to say something in this delicate air. Then it hit you.

You fixed your lips to finish the phrase you were trying to say in the shower. Joker stopped you then but he couldn't stop you now. It was right on the tip of your tongue, desperate to dwell in the space between him and uncertainty.

Yet the words you wanted to say never came.

131 notes · View notes

lestatslestits · 1 year ago

Text

I am once again posting by the skin of my teeth, but it’s still Thursday here which means I’m not late for TOTA Takeover Day Four, dedicated to Fergus MacKinnon.

Fergus is a very special character to me, and his arc is devastating. I work in mental health and out of all of the characters in the show, Fergus is the one who hits closest to home for me.

And as a result it took me a long time to decide what I wanted to write. In the end, I’m pleased with the outcome and I hope y’all enjoy it too.

Note: this is a direct follow up to Rosalie’s ficlet from Day One, in the sense that they take place in the same day/night, and this fic makes reference to that one (although it’s brief and you can definitely still understand this one if you haven’t read it)

He can’t sleep, so he decides to go to the kitchen.

He likes kitchens, they’re filled with the kinds of things he understands: things powered with electricity, things alive with faint humming noises and barely-there vibrations that no one notices but him. This kitchen, massive and industrial, sounds nothing like his mam’s kitchen growing up, or even the kitchen in the flat he had occupied until he occupied a series of loony bins instead, but there’s still something he finds grounding about it, especially late at night when there are no staff members to chase him out because they are afraid he’ll learn where the knives are kept.

(He already knows where the knives are kept, and how to pick the lock on the cupboard door.)

(He once spent an entire afternoon hiding in an entirely different and thoroughly forgotten cupboard just to prove to himself that he could do it without being caught out. To this day, no one knows.)

There are two ways to get into the St. Jude’s Hospital kitchen when you’re not on staff. One involves abseiling down the side of the building from his fourth floor room and the other involves being able to walk silently, blend into the shadows, keep his head down, and be massively underestimated by everyone who sees him. He’s not in the mood to rig up a rope this late in the evening, so he chooses the latter option.

Stuart doesn’t typically work the graveyard shifts, and the aides who do are less inclined to act like big stupid guard dogs eager to slam patients into walls. The one occupying the nurse’s station nearest to the kitchen has brought a book to read and it must be a good one because he doesn’t even look up as Fergus slips past him.

He wishes he knew what the book was. He’s already read everything in the hospital’s single-shelf “library,” and money is always tight so hasn’t picked up any books on his last few outings. But as he can’t very well go up and ask, he puts the thought aside and focuses on picking the locks on the kitchen door. There are two, and he knows how to pick them both with paperclips.

(Technically speaking, he isn’t meant to have paperclips, but they are remarkably easy to nick from almost any desk in the hospital, so he’s always got plenty on hand.)

He slips into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. He breathes easier in here, out of the line of sight. Even so, he turns one of the locks behind him, and navigates in the dark so that no light shines out under the crack in the door.

For a long moment he relishes his hard-won freedom, and loses himself in the sounds all around him.

In his younger days no one had believed or even had any interest in listening to his insistence that there were voices—whispers—in the electrical hum of the world around him. In fact, no one had cared about the voices he heard at all, until they started shouting abusive litanies and telling him to follow the hidden messages he heard in television and radio broadcasts.

(After that they had cared a lot.)

(To this day the voices he hears in the ambient noise of the modern world are the only ones he actually finds comforting—and the ones no one else seems interested in.)

He allows himself this moment of peace where these voices drown out the ones demanding self-hatred and paranoia.

(The meds that they give him make those voices quieter, but they never silence them completely.)

Once he’s fully grounded in the space and his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he reminds himself that he’s on mission and moves primarily by sound and touch in search of his prize.

The cocoa here is shit. It’s cheap powdered stuff bought in bulk and mixed with hot water, often without much effort at stirring out the clumps. He’s working with what he’s got, but he swaps water out in favor of milk, a small luxury. Once it’s boiling gently he stirs in the cocoa mix, using the light of the open refrigerator to determine when the clumps have been properly obliterated.

He does the washing up when he’s finished with the kitchen: puts everything back into order and escapes with one perfect cup of cocoa, locking the doors behind him. The aide at the desk has not looked up from his book.

~~~

“I’ve got something for you.”

The figure in the narrow bed shifts under a multitude of blankets. “Fergus? What time is it?” His voice sounds thoroughly wrecked.

“Late. You slept through the cocoa round. Figured you needed the rest, though.”

“So you’re waking me now instea—oh.” Campbell Bain has flopped onto his back and is now squinting up at him with bleary, watery eyes.

He extends the cup he’s holding. “Made it myself,” he explains, answering the unasked question of where he got cocoa at this hour.

“Do they no keep the kitchen locked up tae keep the loonies out of the knives and all?”

“They try,” he agrees amiably, with a subdued smile. Then, “It’s going cold.”

Campbell heaves himself into a sitting position and coughs mightily for his effort. Fergus waits until he’s done before he hands him the cocoa.

“Rosalie stopped by. Earlier.”

“Oh?”

“She couldn’t—“

“Right,” The boy’s head bobs in understanding. He sips the cocoa and declares, “That’s no bad. Different than what we get on the cocoa round, though.”

“I used real milk.” He’s actually properly proud of that, and feels the pride legitimized by Campbell’s appreciative smile. It drops when he asks, “How’s the throat?”

“Hurts.”

Fergus brushes Campbell’s absurd fringe from his face and presses a hand to his forehead. Still feverish.

“Thanks for the cocoa. I didnae know you could cook.”

“It’s just cocoa, Campbell.” He hesitates and adds, “I like kitchens, though. They whisper to me.”

It’s not a strange thing to say. Not here. And anyways, Campbell never seems to register strangeness. He looks unsurprised, and there’s sincerity in his voice when he asks, “What do they say?”

“Good things,” Fergus replies. He doesn’t elaborate. It’s too personal, anything beyond that. Campbell doesn’t press.

“That’s nice,” he says, drinking the cocoa to the dregs. “I’m glad. Thanks for the cocoa.”

“Don’t mention it.” He means that literally: this has to be a secret between the two of them.

Campbell nods in earnest understanding.

“And get some rest. You look like hell.”

Before any offense can be registered, Fergus slips out the door and back towards his room a floor above. He’s less restless now. Maybe he’ll even manage to get some sleep.

#takin over the asylum #TOTA Takeover #tota #fergus mackinnon #takin’ over the asylum #tota fandom #tota fanfic

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keeper-of-all-the-random-things · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 2,536 times in 2022

That's 2,219 more posts than 2021!

49 posts created (2%)

2,487 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-can-even-burn-salad

@soaveintermezzo

@ashintheairlikesnow

@darkthingshappen

@orchidscript

I tagged 207 of my posts in 2022

#i love cats - 46 posts

#cats - 28 posts

#hiya! - 23 posts

#cat - 13 posts

#inktober - 11 posts

#inktober2022 - 11 posts

#wij22 - 10 posts

#whumpmasinjuly - 10 posts

#whumptober2022 - 6 posts

#whumptober - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#my sister and i would play sumo wrestlers.... we'd tied blankets on our chests and stuff them with other blankets and stuffed animals...

My Top Posts in 2022:

(Re) Introduction

Hiya!

I'm Paisley, and I've been here since 2020.

To theme - some random stuff:

I'm not great at finishing stuff, but I try.

I enjoy reading about kidnapping and captivity stuff, and all the sassy people (whumpee, whumper, caregiver, you name it, love the sass)

I prefer reading about male whumpees but have found i gravitate toward female whumpees in my own writing.

Other stuff i enjoy includes drawing, playing music, and sewing.

I am glad to be part of this community and am excited to see what pops up next :D

p.s. i will accept pictures of anyone's cats. i love cats. they are all my babies.

@whumpmasinjuly

5 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Underrated Whump

@darkthingshappen Brother's Keeper and @whumpcereal Behavior Modification both hit me at the same time and my goodness are they glorious. Those poor boys. I'm thoroughly invested.

@short-form-whump All their scenarios are so vivid; they say a lot in a few words. I would love to write stuff based on these scenarios, but my braincells do what they want :|

9 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

Fleeting Clarity

@the-whumpers-soiree What a cool event.

Never have a completed a piece in such record time. One day. I think it went well. And it's still May, so it counts towards my monthly goal. Woo!

CW: Noncon drugging, Alcohol Consumption

Emmett dislikes parties. He knows he dislikes them, and yet he continues to go. He says it’s to “broaden his horizons” or some other cheap cliche, but that’s not it. He’s looking for the best friend he’s never met. Two months of messaging and it feels like this stranger is Emmett’s perfect, nameless, other half. The One. They never make demands or push Emmett to go outside his comfort zone. But Emmett wants to be better for them, to grow. So he seeks out social gatherings, hoping to find The One and clinging to the idea that he will just know when he meets them.

Then there is something new. A short message “It’s been long enough. We should meet.” and an invitation to a … soiree. It sounds fancier than anything Emmett’s ever been to, but this is what he’s been waiting for. He quickly sends an affirmative reply. He receives a second message with instructions on when to show up and what to wear. He agrees to everything.

The night of the party, Emmett arrives twenty minutes early. He hasn’t worn his dress pants in over a year, and they fit snugly around his waist. He fidgets and pulls at the legs, trying to keep them from looking like flood pants. Ten minutes later, he gives up on his pants and enters the penthouse. He receives a blue glow stick which he circles through the belt loop on his right hip, just as The One had asked.

He knows he’s early, so he goes to the bar to kill time. The guests already there appear otherworldly under the gold lights. The same lights make all the drinks look like potions or strange science experiments. Emmett tries not to think too hard about it, chooses one at random, and moves away to the other side of the building where chairs are lined up along floor to ceiling windows. Here it is bathed in softer blue light. Emmett is instantly calmer and selects a seat in the corner to wait for his other half. He watches the assortment of people who pass by, all impeccably dressed, most with blue bands like his, some with red bands. He guesses those with red are somehow responsible for the party, hosts or VIP guests or … something.

In the middle of that thought, a man with a red band approaches him. Emmett stands to greet him, clutching his drink like a lifeline.

“You know the bracelet is supposed to go on your wrist, right?” The stranger chuckles.

Emmett glances down at the blue ring on his hip then back at the man. “I… uh… meeting someone… told me… I mean… yes. Yes, I know.” He blushes, embarrassed by his sudden inability to form coherent thoughts. He stares wide eyed at the man and wishes he had bought a suit that actually fit him.

The stranger laughs again. “It’s alright, you can wear it wherever you want as long as we can see it. Anyways, I’ve found you now, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Oh, it’s you!”

“Yes, it’s me, live and in person.” He smiles with all his teeth, arms spread wide like a tv announcer.

Emmett is far out of his league. This man is everything Emmett could never be - tall, fit, tailored suit worn with the air of deliberate dishevelment. And the red band.

“Do you work here?” Emmett blurts.

“No, why?” The man raises a brow, smile never leaving his face.

“Oh, um,” Emmett starts picking at his pant leg. “I just thought with the red bands, it was important to the party. Like security. I saw some people with red bands helping guests out.”

“They’re important, but not for security.” The man continues to grin as if this conversation were the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Emmett knows it can’t be. He frowns, suddenly aware of how much of a stranger this man really is.

“You okay?” the man asks. “Do you need to go outside?”

Emmett shakes his head and sits back down. “I’m fine. Could we sit for a little while?”

“Of course. Let me get you something else to drink. That one there is like drinking death.” He takes Emmett’s glass and heads to the bar. Emmett watches as he leans over the counter, the yellow light casting a halo around him. Emmett’s stomach rolls, and he can’t be sure if it’s excitement or nervousness.

The man returns with a short glass of blue liquid. Emmett thinks it doesn’t look much better than the last one, but slowly sips it to be polite. The two are quiet for a few minutes, Emmett drinking, and the man watching with that stupid, relentless grin. Somehow, he seems more of a stranger now than when they had never met.

“So, what do you want to do this evening?” The man leans back in his chair. “After all, the night is young, and we are limitless.”

“Can we just talk?” Emmett chews on a piece of ice, surprised at how fast the drink disappeared. “I…I feel like I don’t know you that well.”

“Yes, of course. What do you want to know?”

“I…um, I,” Emmett places his empty glass on the ground by his feet and grips the side of his chair. His vision begins an uneven roll matching the feeling in his stomach. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. We have all the time in the world.” The stranger’s face distorts, his eyes dark, and his smile growing feral.

Emmett’s world spins. “What… what’s happening?”

He is on the ground, vaguely aware of melted ice seeping into his pants. It’s the flood pants. He giggles at the passing thought. The ice is surprisingly warm.

See the full post

10 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

Good days ahead!

I got all the books at once! It’s going to be a glorious November.

@the-modern-typewriter

@avoliot

20 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hiya!

Surprise! I'm not dead but the quarter life crisis is real.

I figured I would re-introduce myself since I have been away for so long, I've learned some stuff about myself, and I think I did it wrong last time. So:

I'm Paisley, she/her, ace, socially awkward chipmunk. This blog is kind of all over the place, quite random as the name implies, but I like the whump, specifically: guys in distress (*sigh* don't we all), blindfolds and gags, kidnapping, and the Box Boy Universe in general. I don't mind reading about le spice/NSFW, but it will probably not be featured in my writing.

As far as my writing goes, my main OCs are Alex and Wes (but mostly Alex because she's been living in my head for years inserting herself into other people's stories and finally gets her own.) They exist within the BBU, but each follows a vastly different path to where they meet.

My other writing is generally short pieces based on prompts or ideas that don't fit into the main story (all the random stuff).

My list of inspiration/favorite blogs has expanded since the last time I tried this intro thing: @orchidscript @ashintheairlikesnow @deluxewhump @knivestothroats @pretty-face-breaker @whump-tr0pes @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @fyeahvulnerablemen

My Goals for 2022:

I. Write and share one longer writing piece per month.

II. Be more interactive with all the lovely people of the whumblr/wriblr community.

Happy new year everyone! Thanks for sticking with me. 😊

45 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #half my tags are cats….#I realize I don’t tag reblogs often #if I wait till I can copy tags or think of comments I often don’t end up reblogging at all #brain works better when I can reblog right away and send happy messages later when I can fully articulate my thoughts #I try really hard to tag my own stuff well

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years ago

Note

THE PROMPT FAIRY RETURNS!!

Today's prompt is a bit of a long one

Sy's / Walter's / geralt's / August's wife being mistakenly told he's dead (blame watching nanny mcphee and the big bang for this one)

Have fun

Summary: In the aftermath of August’s death you are lost.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx. 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of death and almost implied smut, Angst

Authors note: Thanks you prompt fairy. And shock horror! Its not a Sy fic! I hope you enjoy this one.

SORRY I FORGOT WARNINGS!

Thanks to @henryobsessed and @amberangel112 for the reads. Your input is always appreciated

Masterlist

The Piper

Curling your fingers around the soft brown dirt you turned to the six foot deep rectangular hole in the ground. You squatted low, dropping the dirt onto the rich mahogany coffin, empty but for a few photographs and a wedding ring. You stayed a moment, looking, wondering where he really was. Was he still in Kashmir? Parts strewn across the deep ravines. Had he floated down river? Perhaps washed up in India or Pakistan, a horrific sight to be found by some children playing or food for a tiger.

You would never know. Yet, even on this day, you couldn’t shed a tear. You knew August, your lover, partner, husband, and you couldn’t believe he was dead. But it had been months with no word, and your hope was failing.

A hand was held out to you. One of the few mourners present and participating in the funeral. You knew he would be a work colleague, August had no real friends, the ones he did have wouldn’t risk showing themselves today. Not that these workmates would be there to grieve, they were there to take names, monitor suspicious behaviour, find accomplices.

As you stood, you thought about the days following August’s failed attempt to bring about peace. You were questioned, thoroughly, roughly at times. They even had Sloane question you, in a failed attempt to show you a friendly face to get more information, but there was no more to share. You had done what August had told you to do and given them everything, his computer, his safety deposit box, and full access to the apartment. “For your sake, keep nothing back, Petal.”

You went straight home after the burial, there was no reception. What would be the point? You were the only one to care for him, the only one who remembers his name with fondness and love. You stripped off your widows black and crept into bed, sending a prayer that perhaps you wouldn’t wake.

The shrill ring of your phone woke you with a start. You rubbed your eyes, smearing the dark eyeliner you hadn’t bothered to remove. You let the call ring out before you picked it up, shocked you had slept 18 hours. You went to the bathroom, your bladder screamed at you, before you picked up the phone again returning the call.

It was picked up straight away, August’s lawyer spoke his greeting before giving his instructions. You waited, not wanting to hang up, you wanted to ask him, maybe he would know.

“Have you heard…” you started before being cut off.

“One hour,” was his reply.

Shaking your head, you berated yourself. How could you ask such a thing? August would be disappointed in you. The thought made you cringe, made you want to curl back into yourself. You looked at the bed, sheets twisted as if you had been making love all night, but the untouched pillow next to yours told the real, empty truth; you will never feel his touch again. Never to feel his hand’s brutal caress, never to hear his grunted demands from his whiskered lips, never to see his blistering blue eyes baring his soul for you, never to taste his sweat covered skin and never to wake with the scent of him between your legs.

You very nearly gave in, nearly called the lawyer back to reschedule. But you had to know if he left you something. A final message, a clue, confirmation, hope, anything. Eyeing the shower, you couldn’t muster the energy. You pulled on some tights, a dark sweater dress and flats, and ignoring your hair, used your finger to wipe away the panda eyes before brushing your teeth.

The train was full, you didn’t realise it was peak time and hardly noticed the feeling of eyes on you as you stood pressed against the crowd, a hand curled around the cold metal pole. You were used to that feeling by now after having agents follow you for weeks after Kashmir. You thought about trying to lose them, but again August had warned you against that.

You thought you had slept enough, but the gentle sway of the train lulled your eyes closed, the announcement of the station forced your eyes back open with a jolt. Passengers left as more boarded and one of them catches your eye as the doors begin to close. You blinked several times as a slightly familiar face walked past and moved into the next carriage.

It couldn’t be, you were seeing what you wanted to see. But your gaze followed the man. His height was right, but his walk all wrong, he was a little thin, his hair was darker and so long it began to curl beneath the baseball cap darkening his face. You couldn’t look away as the man turned to you.

Not daring to breathe, you got lost in the spectral mirage before you. Everything was different, the mostly full beard, the new scars on his cheek and forehead, missing half an eyebrow that would never grow back and the sickly pale hue to his skin. But his eyes, his eyes were the same, cold, and calculating at first appearance, but full of deep tumultuous passions lurking below the surface.

You took a step toward him, and you got an almost imperceptible shake of the head. His eyes flicked to the doors, and he moved towards them. He looked straight ahead, so you did too and waited for what seemed like eternity before the next station arrived. You glanced at him to make sure, and you watched him step out onto the platform, so you did the same. He didn’t look at you as he made his way up the stairs to the street, but you followed, your legs threatening to give way as you were led like a child behind the piper.

For two city blocks you followed him before he turned a corner, you jogged to catch up and just caught sight of him as he entered a non-descript, tidy but old apartment building. There were no elevators, so you climbed the stairs and rounding the first flight you see him as he stood at the end of the hall, holding open a door.

Putting an arm against the hallway wall for support you approached him slowly, knees weak, you felt as if you were wading through a river upstream. You stopped in the doorway unable to go further as you were mesmerised by the vision in front of you. Your hand shook as you lifted it to his marred cheek, his jaw clenched as you touched him, his chest puffed, and his nostrils flared. The skin beneath your trembling fingers was bumpy, hard, and still bright pink from healing.

“You’re real,” you breathed as you felt the sharp sting of tears fill your eyes and spill onto your cheeks. “You’re alive.”

August’s lips curled into a smirk, “Did you ever really believe I’d leave you?”

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

#august walker x female reader #august walker x you #august walker fanfiction #august walker x reader #august walker fic #august walker #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction

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honeyabyss · 3 years ago

Text

Different ways to say I Love You (minus Luke)

Lucifer:

Lucifer isn't the best at saying what he actually feels due to his pride getting in the way, but he makes it up with small gestures

he is very observant and often knows what you need before you know it

putting on the fireplace in his study when he notices you start to rub your hands or shift your legs to warm them subconsciously

refilling your cup/glass while he pours something himself

"You should have dressed better, I can see you're shivering..."

his snarky side comments might sound like he's annoyed, but he actually cares and worries

he will most definitely put his cloak around your shoulders and keep you close to him with a hand on your waist

he's conflicted between staying subtle and showing you off all the time

"Aren't they looking amazing today? Haven't you stared enough yet? You're making them uncomfortable!"

when you're in private he becomes more open and affectionate, but still tries to play it down

him moving with his work away from his work desk to the small coffee table, sitting side by side with you, just to have you close

when he's feeling stressed he tends to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort and familiarity of you

Lucifer tries to give you the same he feels when he is with you comfort, peace, a place to hide from the rest of the world

"You are my save haven! I don't always have to be at my best when I'm with you!"

Mammon:

"Hey! Look what I've brought you home. Ain't I the best?!"

small gifts are a regular occurrence with the Avatar of Greed, which don't always have to be the most expensive, extraordinary or thoughtful ones

"I was on the way home when I saw this and thought of you...you needed this right?"

it could have been the most ridiculous thing like a single paperclip, but he'd be so proud to have noticed and remembered you were having troubles organizing your papers yesterday

him being a tsundere makes it hard for him to openly admit or show his love for you sometimes, his thoughts are full of you and he is constantly complementing you and how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss...but actually vocalizing or holding and kissing you seems to be way harder

though that doesn't hold him off to keep you close and hold hands in front of others, you're his human and everyone shall know, you're his and his alone, they'd be mad to try and steal you away

as his sin is Greed, hoarding stuff happens often, most of the times he sells them to be able to get money, but every single thing you'll give him will hold a special meaning in his heart, will show off your gifts to brag

but material love isn't the only thing he can give, he'll also gladly give you all his time

he'll randomly invite you to go take a drive with him, just get in the car and go, no set destination, just Mammon and you away from his brothers and all the others

when you're alone he'd still be nervous, but cuddling will happen a lot, though he is always blushing a bright red

"If I could choose to have one treasure in my whole life, I'd choose to only treasure you!"

Leviathan:

being the Avatar of Envy, he is quick to loose his temper when you're talking or even dare touch other people, he'd be rather alone with you, but that doesn't always work, so being open and mindful about his sin is a must

"Soo what did you two talk about? Not that I mind...but you can also talk about everything with me, you know that right?"

he knows that his social skills aren't the best and that he doesn't know about to many normie topics, but he'll try his best to listen to you and come up with responses and ways to keep the conversation going

he wants to make sure you know he loves you so badly, but all he knows about love is from animes or games, so he often tries to recreate romantic scenes only to get thoroughly embarrassed

"d-d-don't laugh! This i-i supposed to be ro-romantic...."

he tries to keep you close to him as much as he can when you're outside

he knows how anxiety inducing it can be for him, when someone suddenly touches him, so he always asks you first, as embarrassing it is to ask you to hold hands or kiss, he feels better knowing you want this too

when he is playing his games, he dislikes it when you disappear out of his vision, wanting to make sure you're still there and letting you know he hasn't forgotten about you even though he is currently concentration on his gaming, he'll keep you in his lap with a furious blush on his cheeks and he might see the game over screen more often but it's definitely worth it

"You make me overcome my weaknesses, just give me time and I'll make you happy!

Satan:

"The weather is nice...do you want to take a walk with me?"

Satan enjoys spending his time with you in any way possible, a simple walk, reading sessions, visiting your favourite places, discovering new cafés, exploring galleries and museums, as long as you're around he is open to try anything

lazing around in his room cuddled up next to you with a good book will stays his favourite though, he has you for himself and it feels reassuring to know you stay with him even on the normal and eventless days

Satan isn't too handsy, but he does keep your hand in his wherever the two of you are, even if you only making your way to the kitchen, he is not exactly jealous just happy to call you his and show it

the subtle intimacy of handholding speaks volumes to him, to others it may seem like the most ordinary couple thing, but he likes to experiment and if his stupid idea of only holding 2 fingers makes you laugh then it was a full success to him

no matter how much control over his sin he has sometimes he breaks too, after getting out all his anger, he tends to be exhausted and feels vulnerable, he'll just sit down with your hands intertwined and his head resting on your shoulder, seeking comfort and affection

"Have you smiled yet? I smile every time I think of you!"

Satan will leave small notes to make your day or send you messages on your DDD when he can't be around you

"Did I ever tell you that you feel like home to me? I hope I can be your home as well!"

Asmodeus:

so many praises and compliments, like you can just sit there looking at your phone and Asmo just coos

"You look sooo pretty!~ let's take a picture together to remember this moment!"

he will take a lot of pictures of you and him, just to look at for himself when he misses you, to show off to his brothers and Solomon, or to the whole Devildom through posting it on Devilgram

he simply enjoys to look at you, though it always ends in a warm hug , kisses and praises

he may not be very poetic or thoughtful with his touches, but he always gives it his all, some feelings he just can't describe in words so he just holds you close to show you his feelings

spa days, shopping tours and going into the club happen often, though he understands if you're not up to it some times, but he will whine and demand to spend you day differently with him

he can't help it he wants to spoil you and show you off, he's is almost never jealous, rather proud even when someone flirts with you, that doesn't mean he'll give you away

"Come here, let me just hold you. You fit perfectly into my arms..."

as the Avatar of Lust, physical touch means a lot to him, not only in the sexual way, but most in importantly in the way of craving affection, he wants to be hold and to hold you, give him all your attention and he'll be happy

"Thank you for staying and accepting me!"

Beelzebub:

sleepily walking through the hallways into the kitchen to keep Beel company while he has his midnight snack and just sitting next to him talking about your day

"Thank you for staying awake with me, do you want me to get you food as well?"

with Gluttony as his sin, food is big part of his daily life, but he doesn't just eat to satisfy his hunger, but also because he enjoys the food, no matter how hungry he is, he'll offer you even the last piece to make you happy

sharing new food and old favourites of his alike, Beel likes to share his food with you, as he feels less hungry in your company anyway

seeing you happy and full makes him happy and full as well, so he puts you first most of the times, letting you choose what you want and going along with your preferences

"Anything is fine with me, you can choose for us."

Beel is also very active, playing Fangol, training and etc, he often invites you to train with him or tries to teach you new stuff, if you don't want too that's fine as well, you can watch and he may try to impress you a little bit, but he won't train much when you're around wanting to rather spend time with you

bear hugs. just you walking basically anywhere and Beel suddenly hugs you tight against his chest, nuzzling your face and having a huge grin plastered on his face

his affectionate hugs and kisses come out of nothing, surprising but welcome, some times he forgets his strength and you'll have to remind him, he'll hold you very carefully then asking if this okay

"I feel complete with you, so just stay by my side!"

Belphegor:

"Lay down with me, I nap better with you at my side!"

obviously nap time with lots of cuddling, he just drapes himself over you, holding you close and sharing his warmth with you...if you're lucky you'll even get a small goodnight kiss, but only if he's in the mood

Belphie is a bit too straightforward with his words and sometimes ends up being a bit mean when he doesn't really want to, so in crucial moments with you he tends to become quiet and seek out to hold and hopefully show you his feelings

Belphie isn't handsy but he loves to cuddle, he may not always hold your hand when taking a walk but as soon as you two sit down he'll hug you close without saying a word

when he finds you sleeping somewhere without him, he is a bit hurt at first but he recovers quick, he'll make sure you're resting comfortably, the pillow is soft enough and that the blanket keeps you warm, even going to the length to bring you his own blanket if fell asleep anywhere but you're room, without a doubt he'll feel tired after taking care of you and will fall asleep right next to you

"Sleeping without me...unbelievable...I'll just have to squish myself next to you then.."

his other passion stargazing always ends up with him hugging you and telling you about the different constellations and it's stories until you fall asleep...only when he is sure you're dreaming he dares to run his fingers through you hair and lowly hum a lullaby into the otherwise silent night

"Let's dream our life together and promise to make it true one day!"

Diavolo:

as the prince of Hell, Diavolo only ever knew people who treated him with respect, always leaving him to feel lonely and out of place, but then you came and you weren't scared neither did you treat him like a prince, you made him your friend and soon more

with you he feels finally complete and he tries to show you his appreciation and affection any free moment of his time

he'd buy you anything you want not caring about the price, but please tell him that a small and thoughtful gift makes you just as happy as anything else

being with you always has him giddy and bursting with love, he can't hold back and will shower you in attention or at least watch you do your thing

"You're looking radiant my love! I can't believe you're mine!"

similar to Beel he has these affection attacks where he'll just suddenly have the urge to hug you and shower you in kisses

being prince requires a lot of paper work, which he dislikes, when you're around he'll indulge himself in a few more breaks than he should, ending in him having to work overtime much to his dismay

"Will you stay up waiting for me at home?"

He knows it's a selfish thought, but he loves the feeling of coming home to you and getting greeted, he feels at peace when you're there and wait for him

"I'll never have to feel lonely again, when I have you!"

Barbatos:

as a butler time isn't something he has much of, so he some times feels like he can't give you enough, he'll try to meet as often as possible but often it's only for an hour or so a day

"Do you need anything else? More tea? Anything?"

He'll probably be stuck in his butler role and try to serve, completely disregarding himself, just grab him and make him sit down

Barb isn't used to physical touch and feels less comfortable to hold you in public, handholding is the maximum for him, he probably needs some time to get used to the more affectionate things

but when in private gentle touches, soft hugs and small kisses are his thing, just small reassuring stuff while you two relax and talk about daily life

he is more of a listener and he enjoys listening to your voice, it's one of his comfort things, hearing your voice means you're safe and that helps him keep calm a lot...he may not show it, but on the inside he is always worried for you living in between demons, he's on of them he knows how dangerous it can get

phone calls while he works happen more and more often as your relationship progresses, the need to see you gets stronger, but he can't just leave work, so you'll talk over the phone

"I missed you so I had to call. How is your day?"

night-time is his favourite, no work, no on watchers, just you two and your love for each other, if only it could be always like this

"One minute with you feels like eternal bliss, imagine our happiness if you'd stay with me forever!"

Solomon:

Solomon has watched many people die in his life, so he got used to not getting attached too much, falling in love with you wasn't planned, but he can't help feeling clingy with you now

he'd play it down, aloof as he always seems, but on the inside he is screaming at you to not go at the end of the day, just one more hug, one more kiss, maybe stay over the night?

he'd never say it out loud and every time he does say something affectionate something teasing or a 'just kidding' follows, scared he might seem too clingy

"You're my everything, without you I feel like I'm suffocating...just a joke I'm breathing fine, see?"

he's always touching you in some way, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, his hand on your waist, back or knee, whatever he just wants to feel the warmth of your skin telling him you're still there

he has lived through so many human lifetimes and experienced so much, he's happy to share all the good stuff with you and show you the most wondersome places in all three realms

the bad stuff though he keeps to himself, guides you away and hopes you'll never experience it

"Hey! Surprise I was close by and I thought we could take a walk?"

Solomon loves spending his time with you in whatever way, just whisk him away to whatever activity you'd like, surprise dates are his favourite, he doesn't want to plan out his whole life

"Now is my favourite moment with you. Why? Because I'm with you!"

Simeon:

Simeon as an author has his way with words, being able to spin them just right so every moment will become perfect, but he's more used to writing than talking and he'll use that to his advantage

"Even in the darkest of nights, your beauty lightens the room!"

expect love letter, sweet notes and poems written by him, hidden your schoolwork, waiting for you on your desk in RAD, on your pillow at HoL, anywhere he can sneak them to he will

and trust me he'll get so happy when he finds out you kept every single one of his writings

he also loves cuddles but only in private, in public he'll restrain himself to simple handholding or guiding you through the streets with your arms linked together

he enjoys to spoil you with attention, doing whatever you want, often it leads to cooking where as Luke likes to join in too, long walks, reading sessions, late night movies and cuddles, or even just long conversations about everything and anything you two can think of

"My lamb, may you come over and help a poor author who has lost his inspiration to write?"

when he is stuck with his writings he likes to take a break with you and hold you tight in his arms listening to your suggestions until he feels inspired again, no pressure though he can keep writing any time he doesn't have to come up with something on the spot, just distracting him for a bit works too

"I may have found paradise in your arms tonight, do you think your heart may be so kind to let me stay?"

#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #swd obey me #obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

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lacheri · 4 years ago

Text

follow me

I do not consent or allow this to be posted on Tik Tok, or any other social media

pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader

content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI

summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.

wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)

Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.

“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”

“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.

“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.

“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?

“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”

“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”

“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”

“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.

That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.

After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”

“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”

And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.

Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.

“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”

He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.

Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.

‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.

‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.

‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.

‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.

Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?

The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.

That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.

She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.

His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.

And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.

Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.

His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.

“No problem, have a great day!”

You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.

The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.

Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.

“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.

“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.

“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.

“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”

“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”

“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”

Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”

“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”

“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.

Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”

“You talking about Eren?”

You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”

Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”

“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”

“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”

“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.

You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.

“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”

“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.

“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”

You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.

Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.

Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.

“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”

“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”

“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”

“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”

“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”

Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”

“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.

“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”

“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”

Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”

“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”

Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.

Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”

Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”

Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”

Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”

Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.

You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.

“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”

Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”

The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.

Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.

Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”

“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.

Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.

Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.

“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”

“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”

Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.

“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.

“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.

“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.

Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.

Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.

“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”

“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”

“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”

You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”

Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.

Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”

Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.

“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”

“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”

“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.

“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.

“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”

Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”

“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.

You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”

Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.

It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.

“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.

“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.

You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”

“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”

You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”

Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.

“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”

You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.

You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.

“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”

You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.

“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.

“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”

“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”

You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.

“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”

You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”

Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”

“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”

He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”

Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”

“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”

A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”

You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”

“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”

“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”

“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.

Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.

You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.

The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.

“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“Wear my necklace too.”

You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”

“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.

“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”

“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”

“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.

“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”

You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.

“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.

“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”

Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”

“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”

I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.

“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”

“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.

“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.

You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.

“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”

The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.

You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.

When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.

He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.

Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.

When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.

“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.

This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.

“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.

“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.

When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.

“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.

“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.

“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”

“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.

“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”

“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.

“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.

A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.

“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”

“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”

“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”

You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”

“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.

“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.

“Oh believe me, I do.”

Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.

You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.

“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”

“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”

You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.

“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”

You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”

“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”

“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.

“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”

“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.

“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.

“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”

“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.

“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.

“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.

“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.

“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.

“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.

You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.

“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”

You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.

Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.

You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?

“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”

While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.

“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”

He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.

You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.

“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.

“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.

Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.

Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.

The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.

Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.

You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.

“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”

You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.

Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”

Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.

Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”

His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.

“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.

Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.

“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”

His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.

Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”

You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.

He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.

“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.

He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.

Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”

He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”

You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.

And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.

You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.

When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.

“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”

“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”

“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”

Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.

Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.

You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.

“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”

Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.

“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.

“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”

Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.

Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.

Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.

Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.

“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.

“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”

You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.

You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.

He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.

“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.

“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.

“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.

You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.

Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.

“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.

He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”

“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”

“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.

“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.

“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”

“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.

“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.

A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren fluff #eren fanfiction #attack on titan eren #aot eren #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren fic

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violettelueur · 4 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SEVEN || ASSAULT

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of forced marriage + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 28 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : after rain

↳ next episode : boredom

↳ barista’s notes : hi again....barista violettelueur is back from the shadows of not writing anything ┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴ but i want to apologies to you all for not working on your coffee orders, i just been really being in a non productive mood theses days but i should really bring it back up since i have mocks coming in soon....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but overall, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and have a wonderful day/night ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were.

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated, with a rare smile before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

ꕥ

“Ahh?”

Suddenly, after you masterfully was able to swipe Zenin’s footing with the metal pole-arm she had given you for the practice match, you were suddenly hoisted into the arm once you fully turned around, only to suddenly find Panda effortlessly lift you up with his paws on either side, catching you by complete surprise.

“Are they finally going to get her?!” Kugisaki shouted in question since, for the past few days of training, no one was able to defeat you in any of the practice matches they had set out.

However, before Panda could act of on his plan, you gracefully spun your body around to face the other way like a professional gymnast before concentrating your cursed energy to your leg and foot as you swang down to kick the sorcerer in the back causing the animal to let go of the pole in pain as he fell while you landed with some stagger since you didn’t have enough time to plan your footing with Inuamki behind you to make sure you didn’t fall down.

“Maybe not...” Fushiguro muttered while sitting next to his classmate as both of them were sitting on the stairs spectating the fight going on between you and the two other second-years.

“Wow!” Kugisaki gleefully mentioned as she lightly clapped her hands for your performance.

“Ah sorry senpai, did I kick you too hard?” you sincerely asked, as you crouch down by his side to check if he was doing okay, to which he gave you a thumbs up to indicate his well-being before praising you for your performance which led you to stand up straight to move over to Zenin to give her a hand on getting back up.

“You’re really strong,” Zenin muttered with a smile causing you to smile back before stating, “Nah, you really made it challenging since it’s been a while since I fought someone good with weapons,” which lead your upperclassmen to tell you to get Fushiguro since it was his turn.

Leisurely walking to your classmates by the stairs, you casually threw the pole towards Fushiguro, who caught it instantly, before mentioning to him that it was his turn to train with Zenin leading him to get up from his seat to move to his designated area for you to then take his seat next to Kugisaki, leading to your classmate to place her head on your shoulder as you took out your phone to scroll through a bit.

“Is that your sister, Gojo?” Kugisaki question, leading you to turn your head slightly to look down at her only to find her staring down at the screen of your phone to which you turned back to you.

“No, that’s my mother,” you answered as you stare down at your wallpaper that showcases a picture with you and your mother in what seemed to be in a professional setting as you both were seated on what seemed to be on an antique-like style couch while wearing similar baby-blue colour dresses as you had a familiar bouquet of blue hydrangeas with white roses in hand.

“Really?! She looks so young,” Kugisaki commented, as she, in a state of shock, grabbed your wrist and looked closer into the screen to observe the picture. “You really suit baby-blue as well, but black is more of your suit in my opinion,” your classmate commented as she released her grip before lifting her head off your shoulder to peer at your outfit.

At this current moment in time, you were wearing some black nylon cargo joggers as well as black trainers paired with a long-sleeved black cropped top since you knew it was going to be a little hot today but you never really liked wearing bright colours - you were just more comfortable with darker ones like your uniform.

“Do you think so? So, should I get this Balenciaga bag then?” you asked as you tilted the phone towards her to show the bag that has been on your wishlist for some time.

“You like Balenciaga too?!” Kugisaki screamed in shock as she turned to you with widened eyes, resulting in your doing the same, only for you both to then suddenly thoroughly search the whole website to tell each other your favourite items while planning a shopping trip together since you both were giving each other ideas on clothing to purchase.

“That’s such a cute jumper,” you commented, as you, once again, presented Kugisaki your phone for her to agree with you before showing a jacket that she has been eyeing for quite some time. “That looks so good, you could pair it with a jean skirt and maybe a top, maybe orange to match your hair,” you commented, leading Kugisaki to smile and nod at you.

“That jumper is quite long, so you could wear like a cropped white turtleneck or maybe the same coloured blue dress shirt, add that to your wishlist!” Kugisaki mentioned, while at the same time pressing the heart icon to add the item on your wishlist without you lifting a single finger.

Suddenly, while you two were busy looking up items together, a sudden shadow overcast you both leading you to look up to find a roughed up Fushiguro in front of you before he mentioned that it was Kugisaki’s turn to train which cause her to pout before giving her phone to you, so you could take care of it before making her way to the two second-years that were waiting for her as the shikigami user took her seat.

“How was it?” you asked, as you closed your phone, only to hear a sigh from your classmate.

“It’s not bad, just not used to using weapons,” Fushiguro commented, as he stared out into the distance to see Kugisaki running away from Panda with Zenin looking at them in complete confusion.

“We got more than a month left, you should be fine,” you commented, as you looked at your phone screen to see the date. “Besides, you won’t constantly use them but it’s good to use since you can combine physical attacks with weapon attacks when it comes to battle,” you explained as you continued to stare at the family photo on your phone.

‘When was the last time I wore a dress like that?’ you thought, as you tilted your head in confusion.

“What was the reason you kept being on the run?” Fushiguro suddenly asked, causing you to break from your trance to turn to look at your classmate in confusion, only to discover a nonchalant look on his face like it was a common question to ask - maybe it was for the jujutsu sorcerer world.

“Because I’m not supposed to exist Fushiguro, you’re a Zenin by blood, you should know that my clan shouldn’t exist after the golden age, we disappeared,” you answered since you were perplexed on why the sorcerer beside you, asked a question with an answer that he probably already knows.

“But you’re a powerful sorcerer, you wouldn’t have that much trouble would you?” Fushiguro asked, leading you to shift your eyes down to avoid any eye contact before turning back to the track field in front of you to see the now common sight of Kugisaki being spun around in the air by Panda.

“I don’t know what they’ll do to me, I don’t need a bounty on my head everywhere I go, it was better for me to hide in the shadows as long as the L/N clan did,” you answered with a hushed tone, to which Fushiguro barely caught since you turned so quiet.

ꕥ

“If any of the other clans knew of her existence, she would be forced to bring the L/N clan back up again or forced into a marriage,” Gojo explained, as he relaxed in his usual black chair, while Fushiguro leaned against the windows of the room they were at right now.

“Marriage?” Fushiguro questioned in confusion since he was confused on what the point of you being in a forced marriage when you were enough as a sorcerer by yourself.

“To continue the inheritance of her cursed technique,” Gojo informed his student, as he sat up from his relaxed posture. “Her inherited cursed technique is an extremely powerful one that any sorcerer wants, I don’t think she has mastered all the extreme spells as of this moment in time, but she knows what she is doing,” Gojo expanded on his explanation while tilted his glasses down to eye his student to check if he understood what he had said so far.

“But what would a marriage between the clans do? It would only decrease the change of the technique even being inherited,” Fushiguro asked, only for his teacher to smirk.

“I’m sure Y/N knows this, but that’s what the Zenin Clan demanded back in the Heian era before Sukuna was sealed, that a marriage was needed to ‘strengthen their power’ only for the L/N clan to refuse,” Gojo stated bluntly causing Fushiguro eyes to widen, as the Six Eye sorcerer continued with, “her real existence must be kept a secret and that’s my job now as her adoptive father since I’ve been entrusted with her safety,”.

“Entrusted? By who? L/N?” Fushiguro interrogated in a perplexed tone, only to receive a shrug at the end, gaining no answer to his pending question.

ꕥ

Continuously staring at you, Fushiguro couldn’t but recall the conversation he had with Gojo, remembering the details that were mentioned within the chat. There was no surprise in his mind now on why you were extremely anxious about him and Gojo when you first met them; you probably thought you were going to be forced into something that you didn’t want to happen.

“Do you…hate me?”

“Huh?” you confusingly said before quickly turning your head to look at Fushiguro, once again seeing his usually stoic face looking straight at you while you gave him the surprised look. “What makes you ask that?” you queried since you didn’t expect him to ask such a question especially since you both had worked together for a few weeks now as well as fought together against Sukuna back at the Eushi Detention Centre.

“Since I’m a Zenin by blood, do you-” Fushiguro explained before he was cut off by you flicking his forehead with your finger in an annoyed manner, as the impact reflected on your emotions causing Fushiguro to wince slightly at the pain since he didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

“Why would I hate you? As much as I hate the Zenin clan for what they did to my clan, you and Zenin-senpai ain’t that bad. In fact, you both ain’t bad at all,” you stated before sighing in annoyance since it was an extremely stupid question for him to ask. “Fushiguro, if I hated you, I would have made you fight Sukuna alone and wait until he came to me, don’t you think, you drag?” you rhetorically asked, before lightly slapping the side of his head to shake some of his brain cells to wake up before looking at the track field to see Kugisaki getting up from the floor with an angered expression as she demanded a re-match causing you to giggle lightly at the sight.

“We’re cool Fushiguro, there’s no need to worry about it,” you reassured the sorcerer, before standing up on your feet with your hand out towards your classmate’s direction.

“Come on, it seems like we’re taking a break and about to run some errands for the second-years,” you commented, causing Fushiguro to turn to look at the field to see Inumaki signalling a timeout sign before imitating a drinking action, informing you both to get some water for them as well as yourselves.

Taking your hands, he pulled himself up before you both disconnected your hands, leading you to turn around to grab the desired bottles of water that were required before coming back to resume training.

“Gojo! Wait for me, we need to talk more about our shopping trip!” Kugisaki loudly shouted, causing you to halt and turn your head to see your classmate rushing up the stairs to come to you before resuming once she was by your side.

Slowly from behind, Fushiguro decided to walk behind you both as he knew his upperclassmen would tell him to hurry up with the errands that they had placed on your three.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

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landinoandco · 3 years ago

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|Shutter speed|

Chapter two : A New Beginning

{Lando Norris x Reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: none :) apart from a mention of grief and passing of a loved one

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2.9 k

A/n: welcome to the second chapter of 'Shutter speed.'

I'm going to start a taglist so comment on this post or message me if you would like to be added :)

Previous chapters: Chapter one

Chapter two: A new beginning

By the time Georgie had raced home, it had stopped raining and the sun was beginning to fight its way through the mass of clouds that had filled the sky. The journey home had given Georgie plenty of time to think - to mull everything over about the crazy afternoon she had just endured. They had finally booked their first event since lockdown, the insanely attractive stranger she had met in the coffee shop but somehow it all ended back to a person she thought she had finished thinking about - not that you ever could. Her Theo. Her lovely Theo.

Theodore was her childhood sweetheart. Theo was everything to her, llike Georgie was everything to him. They had their whole future planned out: travelling around the world and experiencing different cultures, photographing their entire experience and showcasing the beginning of their journey through life on an Instagram they had set up. Before settling down and starting a family of their own. Together. It was going to finish like all the fairy tales did...

And everybody lived happily ever after.

In hindsight, they had jinxed themselves before they had even started, not long after they had finished their A - levels and about to start their next chapter at Uni - Theo had fallen ill. Georgie refuses to acknowledge the illness for she believes it shouldn’t be the way he is remembered, instead reminiscing on the short but meaningful life he lived. Theo died not long after he was diagnosed, leaving Georgie behind with a new and tainted meaning to happily ever after because if it wasn’t with him then what did it truly mean?

As they say hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Even now, 5 years on, 23 years of age, she is still plagued with the memories and the thoughts of everything they could have had but for some reason the universe was against it all. She hated to think of herself as unlucky because she was blessed to have met Theo in the first place.

Shaking the memories from her head, she unlocked the apartment door and trudged through - hanging her coat and bag on the hooks then making her way over to the breakfast bar. On top was a fluorescent post-it note that read: “Popped into the city to pick up some new lenses for the cameras. Fill you in when I get back. Fancy getting a takeaway tonight to celebrate? Love you lots ~ Maisie.”

A takeaway was exactly what was needed. She thought. And a nice warm shower.

The thing Georgie loves about showers is that they give her the ability to find an answer and solution to pretty much everything and anything. She spent a lot of time in the shower after Theo passed, it was the only thing she could justify enjoying. Striping her clothes off and chucking them into a pile on the floor, she reached into the shower to turn it on - the water immediately rushing out and crashing loudly onto the floor. As soon as she was happy with the temperature, she stepped in - letting the warm water droplets wash all of her worries away. It was the only thing that she felt helped her relax; come to terms with everything she was feeling.

Her first and main worry was what they were going to do after Goodwood. If they didn’t find consistent work soon they were going to run out of money - they were lucky to have made some good investments and savings leading up to this point to have coped through lockdown.

Georgie grabbed the shampoo and rubbed it thoroughly through her long waves. She had been to Goodwood a few years back - Theo had taken her. It was the best date she had ever been on - she remembered it as clear as day. They had found an empty bench to sit on next to the hill the cars climbed in the ever popular annual hill climb - it was there and then they had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together and travel the world.

Stepping back under the water, she let the water take the shampoo away, watching as the bubbles slipped through the drain. Theo had been a massive formula one fan - dragging Georgie into the sport as well. Jenson Button had been his favourite driver and McLaren his favourite team so naturally that was hers as well. As soon as he passed Georgie had nothing to do with the sport - she refused to watch it and stopped keeping up with the teams.

She reached for the conditioner bottle, pressing her lips together in a tight line. All of this thought about Theo and the racing world she turned her back on - a slight regret forming in the pit of her stomach, was she ready to go back to it? She remembered the atmosphere of Goodwood when she had been, people from all over the world gathered to celebrate the one thing they had in common: their love for cars. She was slightly envious of the people who got to travel the world, following in the car's tyre tracks and capturing the moments you only get to experience once in a lifetime.

Georgie paused and furrowed her eyebrows, she was struck with an idea. Whether it was absolutely brilliant or outright stupid and unrealistic, she was yet to find out. Hoping out of the shower and grabbing her towel, she made her way to her room. It was worth a look, she supposed, there was no harm in that. Once she was dressed, she sat at her desk and turned on her laptop; begging fate to be on her side today.

“Honey, I’m home.” Called a voice from the kitchen.

“Hey sweetie.” Georgie shouted back, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

She pulled up the McLaren careers page, her mouse hovering over the view jobs link. Georgie was ready to travel the world. She was ready to experience life again - after all it was Theo’s dying wish that she completed everything they were setting out to do. Perhaps she was selfish for not coming to this conclusion sooner.

She clicked.

Taking one last deep breath, Georgie placed her hands to her forehead and moved her face closer to the screen as she read through the roles. Tyre performance engineer. No. Finance analyst - production. Definitely not. Hope was diminishing rapidly even though it was as she had expected. The chances of finding anything suitable were low. She was coming to the bottom of the list when a role jumped out at her. But not impossible apparently.

Lead photographer - team.

And the deadline was Tuesday at 11.59 pm. They had the best part of 6 hours to complete this application. It was going to be tight but possible.

She jumped up and rubbed her hands over her face in disbelief. Running her hands through her hair, she sat back down - hardly being able to keep still. It was only an application advert - many people were going to be applying. She thought as she exhaled loudly. More experienced people. Skimming through the description and requirements, she almost felt like she was dreaming. It was perfect. The role was to travel with the whole team and capture every moment to later be used on social media and advertising.

“Everything alright in here?” Maisie poked her head around the door. She was faced with an almost tearful Georige. Her words almost trailed off.

“Do you want to travel the world?” Georgie asked her, her voice wavering slightly. Maisie seemed taken aback as she moved into the room and sat on Georgie’s bed. “I’m sorry - what? Have you forgotten what’s been going on recently?”

“With a formula one team, Mclaren to be precise.” Georgie corrected and moved aside so Maisie could see the screen. Silence fell between the pair as Maisie read on, Georgie’s leg had started bouncing in anticipation. Minutes later she was met with a frown. “That’s not quite how I had imagined you would react.” Georgia mumbled, sighing. She mirrored her friend's expression, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Before we start fantasizing, I just want to make sure you’re ok with this.” Maisie said softly, taking one of Georgia’s hand in hers. Georgia nodded slowly, rubbing her thumb over her friend’s hand. “This would be his dream. I know he’s watching us - he really is looking out for us, Maise. I want to do it for him.”

Maisie’s smile grew, “As long as you’re sure. Come, let’s discuss it over take away and I will explain how this weekend is going to work.” Georgie stood up, grabbing her laptop and a notebook, “One thing is for sure. We are going to need one hell of a portfolio.”

It was now Sunday - the final day at Goodwood.

To say the rest of their week leading up to this point went smoothly would be a lie. In the end it all got a bit complicated. They submitted their application at 10:58 pm that Tuesday evening - due to it only being a singular role they applied as their business in hope that the combined experience would set them apart from other candidates. Wednesday they spent the day prepping for Goodwood - trying out the new lenses and practising photographing cars they found around London. They were going to watch the Goodwood livestream on Youtube Thursday and Friday to see what they were going to be faced with that Saturday. Until Maisie received a call. It was Mclaren and they had gotten through to the interviews - all taking place that Thursday afternoon on teams. As it turns out, they wanted to have hired someone for the role by Friday in order to be ready for the British Grand Prix the following weekend.

“I mean it makes sense,” Maisie said, blowing her coffee to cool it down before taking a long sip. “It is their home grand prix after all.”

Georgie chuckled, “It’s just, I feel like if we were to explain to anyone they would think we were making this up. It’s all happening so quickly.”

That Friday, ahead of their debut at Goodwood on the Saturday, they got the call. According to the lady Maisie spoke to, it was very close between them and another candidate but the fact they were working at Goodwood tipped the scales in their favour.

“And.” Maisie started. “We are going to meet with a man called Zac Brown on Sunday, he is the CEO of McLaren Racing-” Georgie was very lucky to have Maisie as she was the businessman - or women in this case - out of the pair. Her people skills were unmatched, how she did it Georgie would never understand.

Now on Sunday, Georgie was quite sad to see it coming to an end. The atmosphere was one that she had never quite experienced before - it was one that filled her with pride and adoration; something she hadn’t felt in a long time, not to this extent anyway. The whole weekend, a beaming smile had been plastered onto her face - so much so that her facial muscles were beginning to ache. The whole community of people were ecstatic to be there, watching on in excitement as a sport that had missed the company of their crowds opened its doors once again. It wasn’t long before she had agreed to meet with Maisie ahead of their meeting with Zac Brown that she found herself walking up the infamous hill. The loud buzz of conversation seemed to fade, instead the only sound she could hear was the rumble of engines as they came cruising by. She stopped at a clearing where a bench stood proudly, smiling softly to herself as she slung her camera strap over her shoulder, stuffing her hands into her trouser pockets. It hadn’t aged a day.

Lando Norris had decided to take a break from the main McLaren marquee - he had just finished his final drive of the day and was looking for some time to reflect on the weekend he had just had after having the honour of driving the three cars that Aryton Senna won McLaren their championship titles. It had been a tough season leading up to this point - after Carlos left to join Ferrari he felt this year all eyes would be on him. Many expected Lando to fall into the shadow of his new teammate Daniel Ricciardo, everybody expected him to fade back into the background. Perhaps that was why he trained so hard during the winter break - he had pushed himself right up to the limit. Lando wanted to prove to himself more than anyone else that he was a good driver and he did have potential to fight those at the top, after the taste of a podium in Austria - he was hungry for more. Even as a young boy during his karting career, Lando put pressure on himself - to strive to be the best on the grid - sometimes it meant he forgot to enjoy himself because he was so worried about what other people thought about him.

He had reached a clearing past the trees. All weekend he had kept half an eye out for the girl at the coffee shop. Part of him was disappointed not to have seen her, he really wanted that second chance. He came to a stop and checked his watch - it wasn’t long until Zac wanted him back; he mentioned briefly about a pair of photographers joining the team. They would be replacing his friend Jason after he decided that travelling just wasn’t practical anymore, who could blame him, his first child was on the way and he wanted to be there with his wife every step of the way.

Lando brushed a hand through his curls, casting his gaze around before he would make his way back. When a bench caught his eye or more specifically the girl sitting on the bench. She sat with a content smile dancing on her lips, a reminiscent glaze coated her eyes. He took a step towards her, there was something familiar about her. It was like his feet were frozen in place - his brain was telling him to go back but his gut told him to stay put. He stood for a minute or two before it hit him - square in the face and quite frankly he couldn’t believe his luck. It was the girl from the coffee shop. Right in front of him. It was now or never. Lando took a calming breath before going and sitting next to her.

Georgie was rudely pulled from her thoughts when a person sat down on the bench next to her. She moved her head slightly to see who the intruder was when her heart stopped. Recognition dawned on her face. Georgie knew instantly he had recognised her as the corners of his mouth twitched into a shy smile. “Hi.” His tone silvery and almost breathy.

“Hey.” She beamed back, “I’m Georgie.” She said, gazing up at him, admiring the way the sun caught around his halo of curls giving them an almost angelic glow.

“Lando.” He told to her, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Neither of them could quite believe that they were sitting with each other.

“I - uh - It’s a wonderful day for it, isn’t it.” Georgie had panicked. She didn’t know what else to say and her mother used to always say: ‘if in doubt talk about the weather.’ It was something along those lines anyway. Silently cursing herself, she cringed at her awkwardness only to hear him chuckle at her comment.

“It’s much better now the rain has cleared off.” Lando instantly felt relaxed around her, he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was that she seemed just as socially inadequate as he was. “So Georgie.” He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. “What brings you to Goodwood? I hope you don’t mind me saying this but I heard you talking about it before you rushed off the other day.”

Georgie inched closer, almost leaning into the comfort and warmth he seemed to provide. “My friend and I are photographers and she somehow got us into working for the Goodwood Festival of Speed brand. I still don’t quite know how she did it, for some reason she didn’t want to talk about it.” She trailed off, a pink tinge creeping onto her cheeks as she had come to a rather astonishing conclusion. The corner of Lando’s mouth lifted at her innocence. “Anyway.” She moved on quickly. “As it turns out I am also here to meet my new boss.”

“It’s almost like it was meant to be.” Lando quirked. “Who are you working for now?”

“I’m the new photographer for the McLaren formula one team.” She explained, pride laced in her tone. Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open in disbelief before he caught himself. Composed his expressions and stated very plainly...

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for the McLaren formula one team. As it turns out you and I are about to attend the same meeting.”

Taglist: (please message me or leave a comment if you would like to be added :))

@mjuikoli @httplayer @phatyak

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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littleoddwriter · 3 years ago

Note

hi! could i request TK strand x male reader where they’ve been dating for a few months and TK brings reader to the station to meet everyone? :)

Feeling at Home | Tyler Kennedy "T.K." Strand x Male!Reader

Hey! :)

Thank you so much for this request, I was super excited to finally write for these characters! I'm sorry I couldn't let each of them talk here, though, idk, I'll do better next time I write them.

I really hope you enjoy it, Anon! <3

summary; see above.

notes; Anxiety; First Meetings; Established Relationship; Found Family; Domestic Fluff; Soft Kisses; Hugs; Comfort.

Reblogs > Likes. Thank you!

“I’d really like you to meet my friends, Y/N,” T.K. had blurted out one evening, as you were watching TV, sitting on the couch, his arms wrapped around you and his chin resting on top of your head.

You had tensed up a little. It wasn’t as though you didn’t want to meet them, because from what T.K. has told you, they sounded like some of the most amazing people you could have ever hoped to meet. They also sounded like some of the most protective people to ever come across, though. And generally, you were just afraid of getting to know new people; especially ones that you felt the need to make a very good impression on, or otherwise they might tell T.K. to break up with you.

At least that was where your mind always wandered off to, when you thought about how your first encounter with the 126th could possibly go.

“Babe?” he had inquired then, sounding unsure and concerned, which had your heart clench painfully.

“Sorry, uh- I’d like to meet them, too. I’m just worried, baby, is all,” you had confessed, tilting your head to look at him.

“Worried about what? I promise, they’ll be nice.” He had kissed your temple then, smiling softly.

“That’s not it. I’m scared they won’t like me. And if they don’t like me, then I wouldn’t know where that left us, you know? Sorry, I know I’m being irrational,” you had told him and averted your gaze, so you wouldn’t have to see his expression to your response.

“Hey, that’s not going to happen, I swear. Look, if – and that is a very humongous if – they didn’t like you, or you didn’t like them, then that would only mean that we wouldn’t all hang out together regularly. That’s all. I wouldn’t leave you over this,” he had assured you, brushing his hand through your hair gently and kissing your cheek softly, “Okay?”

You had nodded and leaned back a little, so you could capture his lips in a chaste kiss.

That was how – a week later – you found yourself in your car, on your way to the station of the 126th. Nervously, your hands tapped on the steering-wheel, wringing it whenever you stopped at a red light. Time and time again over the past week, T.K. had continued to reassure you that they were sure to like you. Apparently they had even asked about you several times, before he had relented and told them that you’d meet them at all. In a way, the knowledge that they were eager to get to know you calmed you down a little, but it also put that much more pressure on you, fearing that they might have had specific expectations for you that you may not be able to meet at all.

Sighing deeply, you turned the corner into the street where the station was and parked your car. You climbed out of it unsteadily, your hands trembling because of the anxiety that kept coursing through your body rapidly.

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered to yourself, trying your very best to calm down before you had a nervous breakdown and then you’d be thoroughly embarrassed.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and sent T.K. a quick message to let him know that you were just down the street. He texted back instantly, telling you to stay put and that he’d come get you.

Two minutes later, T.K. already walked down the street and waved at you with a soft smile on his lips. He was dressed in his uniform, of course – and by God, you’d never get over how beautiful he was.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you gently on the lips, which you both reciprocated, putting your own arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, babe, are you ready?” he greeted you, kissing your forehead then, smiling.

Sometimes, it baffled you just how much he smiled when he was with you. You knew of his struggles, and you knew that he liked to hide them, but the way his whole face lit up when he was around you let you know that it definitely wasn’t faked. He was just so breathtakingly gorgeous, too, as he beamed at you, his eyes shining beautifully.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, a small, nervous smile stretching your lips.

He chuckled softly and turned around to be at your side, putting his arm around your shoulders to keep you close and as a reassuring presence for you, as the two of you walked down the street and to the station.

You hadn’t been inside yet at all, and seeing the fire trucks up close made you swallow thickly. They were huge, dwarfing you as you stood in-between the two trucks at the entrance.

“Guys, could you come over here for a second?” T.K. shouted out to get his friends’ – slash co-workers – attention, ripping you out of your momentary reverie.

He shifted his arm from around your shoulders to your waist, holding onto you and stroking your side gently, reassuringly. It was definitely calming, but not nearly enough. You felt as though you were ready to crawl out of your skin with anxiety, when the rest of the team showed up in a pack, Owen – T.K.'s father – tagging along last. He’s met you already, also not too long ago, and he seemed to like you just fine, but you couldn’t help being especially nervous around him, either.

“Oh, are you Y/N?” the woman, who wore a hijab – Marjan if you remembered correctly from what T.K. has told you –, asked, smiling at the two of you.

Nodding shyly, you choked out a little “Hello”. Your face burned, your anxiety getting worse as all seven pairs of eyes, minus your boyfriend’s, were looking right at you. Being the centre of attention was something you felt deeply uncomfortable with.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Mateo, by the way,” Mateo – or Probie, how T.K. had often called him, said, waving at you excitedly.

“Right,” T.K. then said and took it upon himself to introduce you to the rest, going from left to right; Tommy, Nancy, Marjan officially then, Paul and Judd; minus Owen and Mateo, as you already knew them then.

They all greeted you each, with polite, gentle smiles on their faces and kind eyes. Honestly, you felt a little ridiculous for having gotten so worked up about this whole situation.

“T.K.’s told us a bit about you. Nothing bad, don’t worry. We’ve been very eager to finally meet you since, though, so thanks for coming down here to do it,” Judd said, clasping your shoulder and ruffling T.K.’s hair gently. He already felt like a big brother to you, which let you understand just what your boyfriend meant when he’d described him to you before.

“Thanks, Judd. I’m sorry it didn’t happen earlier, uhm-,” you chuckled nervously, not knowing what to say.

“Actually, Y/N, would you like to stay for a bit? We’ve just prepared lunch for all of us and you’d be very welcome to eat with us,” Owen offered gently, rescuing you from the blank you’ve drawn in your mind.

“Sure, yeah, sounds great! Thank you,” you said, nodding eagerly as you leaned into T.K. a little, needing to feel more of his bodily presence than the arm around your waist for a moment.

“Are you alright?” he asked you the second the others turned around to go upstairs.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just anxious still, but fine.”

“Okay. You don’t have to eat with us, though, if you’d rather go home now. We can always do this at a different time. Baby steps and all, right, babe?”

“I’m fine, I promise. I’d really like to have lunch with y’all, my love,” you replied, looking at him with a soft smile, which he mirrored, kissing your lips chastely.

Upstairs, you sat down next to each other near the left end of the table. A lively conversation started up instantly and the entire crew made sure to involve you in it, asking you some questions here and there, letting you interject your own opinion on things, and generally acting as though you’d been there this entire time. It was nice. You felt so much calmer after the first ten minutes already, letting go more and more as time some time passed.

None of them made you feel out of place, or as though they’d rather not have you there at all, and you couldn’t put into words just how grateful you were for it.

Unfortunately, it was all cut a little short, when the alarm blared, the voice of a dispatcher telling the team what kind of emergency they were needed at over the speakers – a car accident.

“Sorry about that. We’ll see you again soon now, right?” Paul said while all of you got up from the table.

“Sure, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, a genuine smile stretching your lips wide.

“Awesome! I can’t wait! I’ve got to talk more about Marvel with you then!” Mateo exclaimed as he passed you, squeezing your shoulder firmly.

You chuckled and agreed with him, you’d love to do that! Mateo was cute, like a golden retriever puppy or something – you liked him so much already; although, to be fair, you liked all of them a lot already. T.K. was right when he’s told you that they were a great bunch of people, all super nice and welcoming to everyone they met.

The others quickly bid their goodbyes as well, before rushing downstairs to gear up for the call. T.K. and you walked down as well, and when you stopped in front of the EMT bus, he kissed you on the lips a couple of times, his smile growing with each one. You also wore a pretty big smile, when your lips parted for the last time.

“Be careful,” you told him, “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too, baby,” he said, hugging you close before he waved you goodbye as he got into the bus.

You waved after them, smiling softly to yourself. In all honesty, you couldn’t wait until the next time that all of you would get together on a free day, where no call could interrupt you. They truly were amazing, interesting and kind people that made you feel right at home already.

#anxiety tw #male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #x reader #reader insert #reader fic #reader fanfiction #tyler kennedy strand #tk strand #tk strand x reader #tk strand x male reader #tk strand x you #tk strand fanfiction #ronen rubinstein #ronen rubinstein x reader #ronen rubinstein imagine

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punemy-spotted · 4 years ago

Text

The Price You Pay Chapter 3: Counteroffer

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements Continue; Dub-Con; Angst; Politics; Possessive/Manipulative Behavior; Spanking; Choking; Crying; The Dove is Probably Dead: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: The return of an old friend brings back the ghosts of old memories.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Notes: Shorter chapters my ass, these outlines are getting unreal. Andy Barber has arrived, Steve Rogers does not approve, the Reader bears the consequences. Things are going to be angstier from here on out and I can feel it in my bones. Please don’t yell at me — or do, your feedback is well-loved and appreciated even if it’s yelly.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

You met Andy Barber fresh from the ashes of his divorce, escaping the gossip and scandal and pain of his past life only to dive into the gossip and scandal and pain of politics. Senatorial campaign, in need of an aide and a law student desperate to do more for the people than hours in clinics and mock trials. Hungry for something grassroots, angling for the impossible.

A match. Whether made in Heaven or Hell feels irrelevant now, long ago as it was.

It was then. This… is now.

Hey Sunshine, didn’t think you’d be able to make it.

He looks the same. Keeps the same beard. Same hair. It’s uncanny and familiar and safe all at once and you slide into the booth with your purse by your side and feel genuinely smiley for the first time in a long time.

It’s been a while since I heard that name.

Yeah? It’s been a while since I got to use it.

The silence is heavy, unwelcome, unwieldy, a reminder of the space between what was and what is.

How’re you doing? Last I heard you were making a name for yourself taking down the…

He trails off, eyes fixed on the slide of your gaze, the sudden interest in a drink menu you wouldn’t normally touch, the tremor of your lips. A man doesn’t serve as Assistant District Attorney for the many years he has without picking up tells.

Sunshine.

Andy…

It’s a warning, a plea, a… confession, all at once, and all the dogged determination in the world can’t hold against the break in your voice, in your control. You’ve cried more in the past few weeks than you can recall and now here he is, soulful eyes and a worried expression and he’s never hugged you really, but suddenly you might want it just that much more.

Don’t be an idiot.

It’s dangerous, your stress, and you know it.

Dangerous enough to send you into the arms of the next safe thing — this is why you don’t do this, isn’t it, this reaching out bit, but no advocacy group on the planet is going to save you from yourself today.

I saw… I saw you win that case. Pretty brutal, standing up to the Syndicate, and getting what you did. He steamrolls past the way you wince, his thumb on that metaphorical bruise and pressing, the Prosecutor’s dogged determination demanding answers, I have a friend in the office, he was convinced you’d be climbing the ranks.

Every word is a twist of the knife, couched in quiet concern, gentle admonition, a warm hug in a smoky tenor and you want to tell him everything, you want to break down in his arms and tell him every word, every buried piece of you he never learned, everything that’s led you to this.

You don’t.

You know better than to trust him too. No one’s going to take care of you but you so instead you shake your head and wave it off and Decided going into the private sector was the better option — one big win doesn’t really make up for the stress, you know.

Private sector. That’s what you’re calling the SHIELD Syndicate now? C’mon, Sunshine…

Look. It’s the Syndicate’s New York, when he made the offer it was… safer than saying no. It’s a cushy position anyway, and I didn’t want anyth—

He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you and you’re digging a hole trying to explain your way out of it so you just… shut up, shaking your head, It’s not important. I’m fine. I’m more curious about you — what year is it now, your fourth? What are you doing in New York?

The deflection works, but the look on his face is obvious — you’re not getting out of this so easily. He gives in for now, just for now, for you.

Almost fifth, gearing up for re-election. Had a meeting up here… about the organized crime situation for both states, and I remembered you were in the area.

Oh. You… it’s been a while since we talked, you remembered?

You expect me to forget you, Sunshine?

That stops you in your tracks, or whatever road your mind had been racing on, thoroughly not enjoying the defensive you’ve been on since you met with Steve, constantly under watch and waiting for yet one more shoe to fall on you.

That’s fear, sweetness.

Andy…?

You were the best campaign aide I had — I told you then too, I would have made you Chief of Staff if you’d let me.

It’s a good save. A clever save, and you want to believe it more than anything, want to believe it was all business and no pleasure because the alternative makes your nails bite into the table and want to turn tail before he can say another word and he… sees that panic flicker over your face so keenly it’s almost embarrassing.

You’re not used to this.

You’re not used to the warmth of his eyes when he searches your face for the answers you can’t give voice to. You’re not used to the way he reaches for your hand and rests it over your fingers, curling around your palm like he might actually keep you close and keep you safe and keep you free of the demons you made a part of yourself too.

Sunshine, why does his voice have to be so soft, why does it have to sound like molten honey on your senses, why does he have to say your name like it’s the very definition of the word hope, If you’re not safe…

No. No you’re not, tell him tell him the truth, tell him you’re atoning for the girl you could not protect tell him you aren’t worth it tell him this is your penance tell him you signed a death warrant tell him tell him tell him.

Andy, really. I’m fine. It’s a good job.

It’s a shit lie.

He drops it. Drops it just long enough for a waiter to finally come by, for his hand to leave yours while he talks through the wine menu. Drops it long enough for you to check your phone, realizing with horror that you must have silenced it absentmindedly sometime on your way here.

Ten missed calls.

All from Steve.

And one text, stamped from just five minutes ago.

[SMS] Either you pick up your phone or I pick you up, Counsel.

The next one comes right before your eyes, a picture of a map and a GPS pin. Your location.

You glance up at Andy, still talking to the waiter about the small plates options, feign a smile and Go ahead and choose, you have better taste than me, and return to staring at the picture and the three dots at the bottom of your screen, waiting to see his next message.

[SMS] Make your choice.

The haptic feedback of your keyboard feels like an electric shock with every letter, hurried fingers until you manage to tap out something that won’t immediately put the man in front of you in the crosshairs of the most dangerous organization in New York.

You can’t do that to him. You can’t.

[SMS] I’m at a dinner with a friend.

[SMS] And since I know there’s no emergencies pressing, I’d like my time, thank you.

You have the good sense to set it next to you this time, watching your screen light up with whatever furious response he sends next, glancing over only occasionally every time another one comes through. Don’t let him control you. Don’t let him think you’re at his beck and call.

You’re not.

You’re free, you’re free and you’re going to prove it.

Sunshine? What’s going on?

His voice cuts through the haze of panic like a knife and you swear you don’t mean to jump but you do and there’s no denying what he notices, eyes narrow and lips turned down in a sharp scowl, Sunshine…?

You are not that girl. You cannot be that girl, never again.

Steel. Steel yourself, flash him a smile, take a sip of the ice water left in front of you while you’d been checking your phone, reset yourself. Steady. Steady on.

Don’t let them know.

Nothing, nothing, just the boss — let him know I was busy.

Why is he texting you after hours? The Syndicate can’t be that busy.

He’s too watchful for your own good. Probably just making sure I’m staying out of trouble.

Are you?

Are you calling yourself trouble, Senator?

You like this. You can handle this, the trading of jokes, the crooked way he smiles. His eyes are a little more distant than you remember but you can still see them sparkle softly when he suppresses a laugh, lighting up properly when the joy reflects in them.

Briefly, you wonder when the last time he really laughed was.

By the time dinner is over, his hand, warm and steady, is back on yours as you talk — and for a moment you almost enjoy the way he runs his thumb over your knuckles absently, like he’s making careful appraisal of each one. Could use your skills for the re-election campaign, you know.

Really? You’ve got a gorgeous approval rating, what are you afraid of?

Not having my good luck charm on the staff.

Andy…

I’m dead serious, Sunshine, you ran that ship. You were what, a 2L? Rising 3? You had canvassing down to a science. We need that energy down on the Hill.

The curve of his fingers is a little tighter now, squeezing yours, like proof of his earnestness and oh, you want to keep believing him. You need to keep believing him.

There’s so much in New York I have to get done first. And besides, you know me. I want a life on the bench.

Justice Sunshine, and it sounds absurd when he uses your nickname and it sounds so real when he uses your nickname and in the warm smoke of his voice those contradictions can live together all at once.

That’s the one. Closest you’ll see me to Washington is when I’m appointed to the Supreme Court. It’s a dumb, arrogant, silly joke but it’s the same one you used to make with him over drinks, teasing him about his political goals and making him promise to “go easy on you” at your eventual Senate confirmation hearing.

It’s the one that makes him crack that too-beautiful crooked smile while he takes a sip of his drink — hiding the curve of his lips behind the rim of a heavy glass.

Well. If you ever decide to ditch—

Ever decide to ditch what?

The world moves in slow motion: hearing the low growl from behind you; Andy Barber looking up and rising to his feet, his hand slipping from yours with just the ghost of his comfortable touch to assure you; Steve Rogers coming into view as you turn, flanked by the not-entirely-unfamiliar faces of two of his enforcers — it looked like Wilson and Banner had been selected this evening — and the sudden pressure of knowing you’ve done something terribly, terribly wrong.

You stood me up, Counsel. Steve’s voice is a threat, a half-drawl as you stand up and face him, Andy right behind you, Something wrong with taking my phone calls?

She was busy, the sound of Andy’s voice is a balm to your soul and fuel to Steve’s fire, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth and resists the temptation to throw the first punch — you can see the fingers of his right hand curling into a fist, can’t you? The slow curve, the watching, wondering if you’ll make the right choice now that someone has chosen to try to lead you astray.

And who the fuck are you? If he can’t get you to respond, he’ll get something from the man talking for you, eyes trained on him like he’s debating whether his own frustration will make this interloper turn to nothingness and return you to his arms where you rightfullybelong.

Do you? Rightfully belong?

Senator Andy Barber. The title practically knocks the wind out of Steve’s sails and you can see it — he may be the Captain here, King of New York, ruler of his domain but he’s not stupid enough to openly attack a man with connections beyond the Syndicate’s web of influence. It’s a comfort and it’s not, all at once.

The room is still, vibrating with tension, the two men staring daggers at one another and you caught in the middle. I worked on Senator Barber’s campaign when he first ran for election, you manage out in some vain hope it might explain and mollify, only to be thoroughly disappointed — and judging by the way Banner winces, only to dig your grave further.

We’re talking about this later, Counsel. You’re coming home.

And what gives you the right to give her orders? You really are going to have to look back at Andy and beg him to not make this worse. You really are going to have to let him see your face, see that you’re afraid, sweetness. He’s not going to let you go easy and this should not terrify you as much as it does.

Senator Barber. It’s fine. Something must have come up,turning to face his burning eyes, until his face softens like he’s seeing you for the first time. And is he? Is he seeing how you just need him to let it go, let you go, drop the protectiveness and step back?

He has to, because he does, nodding before he grabs his coat and glances to the host station. If you say so, Sunshine. Take care of yourself. He doesn’t press, not knowing when he’s beat but knowing when you don’t want him to. When you’re not safe.

And Steve Rogers offers you his hand to walk you out.

And just what the hell did you think you were doing!?

Oh, and you control my time off the clock now too?

He dragged you back home.

No. Not to your apartment, that sanctuary away from all this you’d been allowed to keep as part of the “deal.” His home, the bedroom where you signed yourself away, the space he unraveled you and left you tangled in your new life.

He dragged you back home, in the grim silence of the backseat of his car and you waited. Waited for the inevitable explosion, the one prefaced by Wilson’s nervous looks and Banner’s cautious stare.

This explosion, where he rounds in on you, where livid is still too tame a term.

Meeting with a Senator? Ignoring my calls? I told you, you were mine tonight.

And I told you I had plans.

After I told you that you were mine, Counsel.

Okay. That’s true, even if you’re loathe to admit it.

Plans adjust. Andy wanted to—

Oh, Andy now? I thought it was Senator Barber? You’re really familiar with him, aren’t you, Counsel?

Just what the fuck are you implying?

Maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.

He loves to do this. Wrap his big hand around your throat, remind you just how easily he can impose his power onto you, watch your protests die behind your eyes when you realize how useless words are in the face of his violence.

The furious look in your eyes is something to behold, the way you embed your nails into his wrist to try and drag him off you, all soft snarls and indignant huffs, You fucking asshole…

You’re mine, Counsel, and don’t you forget it. You gave yourself to me, remember?

Like I… like I had much of a choice, breathy, furious, and clawing at him.

Doesn’t matter. You’re mine, and clearly I need to make sure you know it…

Steve—!

Captain, sweetness, Captain, and don’t you forget it.

There’s a moment, when anger becomes transcendental, when it turns into something cold and calculating and prepared, when a plan forms behind his eyes and you watch as he looks down at you, so full of fury and fear all at once and you watch as he leans in so close and you feel his hand slide until he has you by the back of the neck, until his thumb is the thing pressing under your chin to keep your eyes on him, until the heel of his hand is the thing keeping you from shouting at him further. Such a stubborn little bitch…

You can almost see the words forming in his mind, the ones his mouth won’t say, I could be so good to you, but he doesn’t say them, sliding his lips over yours instead and it is… soft. A capturing of your mouth with his, not caring that you protest, only insistent on leaving you breathless and hazy-eyed from each tug of his lips on yours and there stokes the warmth of more than your rage, a different fire rising in your core, unbidden and unwelcome but yours to own and his to play with.

He can sense it, practically feel it, that mad serum racing through his veins and making his nostrils flare as he pulls back and watches you, lets the scent of your perfume fill his senses like a drug he can’t get enough of and, I should hate you too, for this, whispered low and hushed and you barely catch it, don’t you? Barely, but enough, enough to remember it was said just before he pulls you down with him into the depths of his own lust.

And into his lap, it seems, as he drags you down, sitting on the bed with you draped over his lap, an effortless shift in his skillful hands. You can protest, and you do, even daring to try to pull away with a kick of your legs and an indignant, What the hell do you think you’re doing?But you know it’s all futile, useless as he places one heavy hand on your back and lets the other slide over the smooth chiffon of your blouse, tracing a line along your spine with careful, practiced ease.

Would have preferred this with a little more… circumstance, sweetness, but you need to learn a lesson now and drastic times call for drastic measures.

You can turn your head slightly, to look at him, that wild-eyed fury so sweet on your face and you are still a wild creature he needs to tame but he is patient and he can do this for as long as it takes.

But you’re a sight like this, draped over his lap in a pencil skirt and blouse, so put together and proper and now so prone to him, helpless under the appraisal of his hands and the way he takes no time in hiking your skirt up around your waist. Captain! Your protest is met with a low chuckle, especially as he lets his palm curve around the round swell of your ass, before leaving a light swat on the soft flesh, to draw a yelp from your furious mouth.

If that’s all it takes to get you shouting, sweetness, you’re going to hate what comes next, smug and cruel, as you try to hold yourself up enough to look at him, met with his smirk and the simmering fury still bubbling in his eyes. To say you’re in danger still is an understatement, no doubt, and you know it.

I won’t make you count this time, but piss me off again, sweetness, and we’ll just see how much you can take, you hear me?

Oh you loathe him, really and truly loathe him, hissing with anger and embarrassment, so close to twisting in his arms and clawing at him but remembering his size and just how much worse it could get — but then there lies the undercurrent.

The one you loathe too, more than you hated him, that warmth. Seeping into your core, a low heat kindled by the sly softness of his lips on yours and the sure tenor of his voice, low and soothing even as he promised damnation. The one that — just like now — leaves you flushed and writhing while he purrs threats to you, massaging the soft skin and sliding the lace of your panties down to remove all barriers to the sex he owns so surely.

You open your mouth to argue with him but as you do, you feel his hand lift from your flesh and then the resounding SMACK of palm on skin, turning words into nothing but a sharp cry of pain, surprise, and lust. The heat rises just as your body tenses, reacting to the sudden attack on your delicate form, cheeks flushed. Even as your eyes well with tears your sex strives to betray you and — Oh do you like that, sweetness? — damn him for noticing.

Let me go, Captain, the threat is shaky, your voice wavering with something like want and panic all at once, and all it does is draw another laugh as he soothes the stinging mark left on your cheek, gentle as a lover and four times as cruel.

Do you know what I think, sweetness? And another raise of his palm, to strike you once more, listening to the way that cry of pain and surprise turns into a soft, involuntary moan the moment he begins to soothe the ache, I think you need this. Always so uptight, trying to be the head bitch in charge, aren’t you? Just looking for someone to take over, take control, remind you where your place is.

His fingers slip further, more interested in exploring the soft slickness of your sex, listening to your protests die in your throat with every press of his fingers into your plush folds. That’s why I’m here, to keep you in my lap, all fucked and soft, sweetness. Don’t you worry, I’m going to take care of you. Even if I have to teach you just like this.

You should hate the way he talks, hates how he finds your center with effortless ease, like he’s known your body for years. Holding you down in his lap still as he draws mewling moans from you with every curl of his fingers, finding the proof of his accusations in the slick need coating your thighs, soaking his fingers, You’re making such a mess of me, sweetness. Are you going to be good?

Hiss at him. Snarl at him, buck your hips and twist in his arms, push him away. Do something more than what you are now, with red-rimmed eyes and tears staining your face, do more than listen to him talk, feel his cock pressing against you as you lay in his lap, I’m going to ask it one more time, sweetness. Are. You. Going. To. Be. Good?

He punctuates each word of his question with a harsh smackagainst your ass, leaving little time for you to do more than cry out, until the last spank draws something like a moan from your perfect lips and therein lies your surrender for tonight, that soft mewl of pleasure born of pain and he soothes you again with soft shushes and gentle touches, back to inspecting the renewed slickness of your cunt, back to enjoying that plump tightness wrapped around his fingers and back to trying to control the shift of his own hips and you can feel him, hard against you, needing you as much as he is compelling your body to need him.

Captain… a low, desperate sort of mewl, the squirm of your body less to escape and more to enticeand he notices. Notices the way your fingers try to cling to him, notices how you look so very sweet when you’re so very desperate and in some way this is your own game of control, a push and pull and the curl of his fingers is suddenly so much angrier, driving you to the precipice of the fall and you are tumbling, tumbling down into a darkness of want you may never recover from.

Say it again. Tell me you need me, sweetness, tell me you need me and I’ll give you everything, and there’s an edge to the way he says everything, like he might meanit, like he might give you the world if you just gave in and you hate him, sweetness, you hate him but you need the things you hate once in a while and you can’t keep bearing his fury on your body and so you sob out your surrender and whine—

I need you, Captain, please…

And that is enough.

Let him believe you.

#steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x reader #dark!fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #this fic is murdering my ass

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