#hopefully next chapter will be here soon

[myokk]

clumsy

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

summary: sebastian is clumsy

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)

a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)

The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.

Quite literally.

Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.

It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.

It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -

Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.

Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -

He freezes.

What has he done?

He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?

"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"

Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.

Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.

The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.

Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.

"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"

Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.

His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.

"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.

Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?

"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."

And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.

Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.

He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.

She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.

He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.

Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -

"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

"Do you want to start, or should I?"

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?

"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."

Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.

"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"

She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?

Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.

Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -

"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.

But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -

She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.

He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...

They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -

They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.

"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -

"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"

She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.

The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.

The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.

"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."

He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"

The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"

"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."

As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...

What had gotten into her? What is she doing?

He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.

"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.

She has a lot of thinking to do.

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.

Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.

"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."

Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.

In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."

She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.

Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -

Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.

"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.

Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.

She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -

Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.

Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.

Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.

"Sebastian, I..."

She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"

She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."

"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."

Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -

He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.

Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.

Misery.

Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.

She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?

There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.

Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...

He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -

Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.

"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.

"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."

Imelda does not stop.

Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.

Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.

"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."

"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."

"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."

Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.

They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.

She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.

She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.

And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.

Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.

Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.

Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.

"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."

And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.

A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?

Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.

He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.

Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.

Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.

She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -

"Hello."

She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.

Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.

But what if he rejects her?

Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.

They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.

"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.

  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.

[sochilll]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman, Kleinsen - Relationship Characters: Evan Hansen, Jared Kleinman Additional Tags: Getting Together, Sickfic, In a way Summary:

Evan ends up in the hospital for intense stomach pain and needs someone to take care of him

[mari-lair]

took me a while, but here is the new Aka chapter!

[saintmouthed]

going 16 kinds of insane over woe is me for i am lost btw........ the way you write is so unbelievably captivating. wow.....

trying and failing to answer this ask with any measurable amount of chill:

screaming, sobbing, and crying instead.

thank you! I love wimfial soooo bad and it always makes me want to eat glass (in the best, most positive way possible!) when people like it too, because it's such a special project to me. something about it feels a lot more like my original work, so it's fun to blend that "original Antler fic" voice with the "Antler fanfic" voice

(tbh, @eldritchw1tch called me out for having an accidental wimfial subtweet in chapter two of "right now you're mine" by naming a random side character "Echo or Eternity or Exegesis" lmao. I maintain this is not my fault and that these were the first three E words to come to my head. And you're talking to the dude who was once asked to name a bunch of words that start with A and stalled out after saying apotheosis, so you know it's true lmao.)

[pianopadawan]

Update: Chapters 8 - 12 of Witness

Two years have passed since the formation of the Galactic Empire. As a new era dawns, Ensign Firmus Piett and cadet Tiaan Jerjerrod find themselves entangled in a series of gruesome crimes on the Outer Rim Planet of Axxila.

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder, Abduction, Chronic Illness, Homophobia, Angst

Rated: M for violence and mature themes

Ships: Firmus Piett/Original Male Character, Tiaan Jerjerrod/Conan Antonio Motti

[honeykngdom]

hii just checking in to see if you’re okay 🫶🏻☀️

hi pal! I am alive and well -- just overly stressed about life lately, the way things are going, and overall, trying to sustain myself in this damn economy. I haven't had much time between getting ready for an upcoming wedding and my sister’s baby shower to do much of anything that brings me joy or fills my 'cup'. I very much appreciate someone checking in, though! it's nice to know I am not just writing for the algorithms >.<

[okaylikeschaewon]

Chapter 8: Changes

Male reader, ~5k words, too lazy to proofread this one

“Oh!” Kazuha gasped, her arms flying to her chest as if she had a heart attack. “I’m so sorry!”

“Fuck’s sake,” you muttered under your breath. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Here!” Kazuha ran over to the sink and grabbed a handful of paper towels, dabbing at your chest.

“Thanks, I got it,” you said, taking the paper towels from her hands.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed more and wet them at the sink before dabbing at the coffee on your shirt again.

“I said I got it.”

“It’ll stain if you’re not quick,” she ignored you, frantically dabbing away.

“Zuha!” you raised your voice just slightly while grabbing her wrists. “I got it, relax.”

“Sorry, I was just trying to help,” she responded with a tinge of worry, or perhaps fear in her voice - it was difficult to interpret.

Her reaction hurt to see, you didn’t intend to frighten her. After letting out a small sigh, your shoulders drooped.

“You alright?” you asked gently, tossing the paper towels onto the counter and placing an arm around her waist. You stared directly into her eyes, and she returned the softest of gazes back at you, essentially melting your heart right there on the spot. “I feel like this is the first time you’ve made eye contact with me in three days.”

“Well…” she froze.

“Hey, don’t stress it,” you reassured her, giving her a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor.

It was a complete spur of the moment decision, it just felt right - you leaned forward and kissed her softly on her forehead. She jolted slightly, eyes shooting back up to yours, mouth slightly agape. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Her dark, dewy eyes locked onto yours, that unrelenting gaze.

“Kazuha-” you started before pausing at the sound of her heavy sigh.

“Can we talk?” she asked quietly.

“Of course.”

—

“Did you do it?”

“I did.”

“Oh my God!” Chaewon squealed, grabbing your arm and sitting you onto her bed. “How was it? How was she?”

Before answering her, you grabbed her arm back and pulled her onto you, letting your back hit the mattress. You grabbed the back of Chaewon’s head and forcefully pushed your mouth against hers, kissing her as if your life depended on it.

“I love you.”

“That was unexpected,” Chaewon giggled in front of your face. “I love you, too.”

As soon as the words escaped her lips you had already started kissing her again. Your hands snaked around the back of her neck and her back, holding her body as close to yours as you could while you made out with her soft lips.

“As much as I want to do this all day, I do actually want to hear about last night,” Chaewon chuckled, lifting herself up slightly.

This time you pulled her into a hug, gently stroking her soft hair as her head rested her cheek against your chest.

“What do you want to know?” you asked softly.

“How was her first time?”

“It was as perfect as I could have asked for,” you answered her before wrapping both arms around her body and hugging her tightly. “Just like you, as perfect as I could ever want.”

“Babe, if I knew you’d get this sentimental I would have had this happen way earlier,” Chaewon chuckled, hugging you back tightly.

“I just want you to know how much I love you, and that I’ll never let you go.”

“Hopefully you’re not being literal, because at some point I’ll need you to let go so I can live my life,” Chaewon giggled again before giving you a kiss on the cheek and sitting up. “Did you cum in her?”

“You sure you want details?” you sat up so that you were sitting facing Chaewon on the bed.

“You’re right, that’s between you and her.”

“Sweetheart, I promise I’m not trying to hide anything from you.”

“No no, some stuff should stay between the two of you,” Chaewon smiled warmly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“There’s no way you’re the one thanking me,” you laughed as you slid into the bedsheets. “I should be the one spending the next hour between your legs thanking you.”

“Is that an offer?” Chaewon smirked as she slid into the sheets next to you.

“I’d live the rest of my days between your legs if that’s what you wanted,” you replied while placing your arm around her, resting your hand on her ass.

“Tempting,” she giggled before giving you a short kiss on your mouth. “Well, I’m glad it went well.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Silly question, you already know the answer,” she smiled back at you.

“I get that you wanted this for her,” you continued. “But honestly, what do you get out of this… arrangement?”

Chaewon considered the question for a moment. Her expression hardly gave you any clue as to what she was thinking, so it was impossible to guess; Usually her face came with subtitles, but this time you picked up on nothing.

“I guess… the way she looks at you… I just wanted to make her happy,” Chaewon eventually answered. “I didn’t think it would bother me since I really do really love both of you.”

“Did it?” you asked directly.

“Did it what?”

“Chaewon.”

“It…” her lip began to quiver.

“Sweetheart,” you pulled her closer and rubbed her back. “What happened? You can tell me honestly.”

“Okay, well, truthfully there are times where I kinda feel like…” she trailed off before finishing her sentence.

“Babe, you feel like what?” you encouraged her to continue.

It took her a second and another heavy sigh before continuing.

“No, it’s stupid, I’m being stupid,” she continued.

“Whatever’s on your mind, you can tell me,” you reassured her. “I can tell something’s bothering you, please.”

“You’re also going to think it’s stupid.”

“I won’t.”

“It’s just, at times, maybe…” she paused again.

“Maybe?” you urged her to continue, trying your best to remain patient.

“Like maybe… I’m not enough for you…”

The thumping of your heart could be felt in your throat after that line. The immediate dejection that took over as you saw her lip quiver again was overwhelming, you felt like your heart was about to explode.

“Not enough for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What makes you feel this way?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped as tears began flowing down her face. “Sorry, I just don’t understand why it’s bothering me.”

“You don’t need to apologize for how you feel,” you said softly while rubbing her back gently. “Ever.”

“I don’t…” she tilted her head backwards, looking straight up at the roof, and laughed while wiping her eyes. “I swear I was fine with it, really I meant it when I said it’s fine and that I’m okay with you fooling around with her, that’s why I’m just so confused as to why it’s bothering me now.”

“Sweetheart,” you began gently. Her face turned to yours again, she stared at you with her reddened eyes, waiting for you to speak. “You’re allowed to change your mind, maybe you were fine with it before, but now you’re not.”

Chaewon nodded her head, still on the verge of tears, still waiting for you to continue.

“But I never want you to feel like you’re not enough for me,” you whispered, pressing down into her body with your hand.

“Then why are you so flirty with Zuha?” she asked quietly.

“Chaewon-”

“No, stop,” Chaewon began sobbing. “Now I feel like an asshole for pushing so hard for this to happen just to get upset about it.”

“You’re not-”

“I don’t know what got into me,” she sniffled, cutting you off again. “I promise I meant it when I said it was fine, I don’t know why I’m so emotional all of a sudden.”

It was difficult to figure out exactly what to say, and before you could even try thinking, Chaewon leaned forward and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“I’m sorry for that, I’m good,” she stated unconvincingly as she turned back to you again, still clearly choked up. “I think I just felt bad for feeling this way, and when you were being so lovey-dovey it made me feel so stupid for ever doubting how much you love me.”

“Of course I love you, more than anything,” you sat up next to her, pulling her gently so she was sitting right next to you against the headrest. “But that doesn’t make these feelings stupid or invalid. Maybe you thought you’d be okay with it, but now that it happened you realized you’re not okay with it, and that’s completely fine.”

She nodded slightly.

“If anything, it’s stupid of me to have even considered it.”

“Don’t,” she replied firmly. “I was very adamant that you did it, you’re not allowed to blame yourself.”

“Okay fair,” you chuckled lightly, making sure to gauge her reaction. “Regardless, it’s an unorthodox situation, I don’t think placing blame is important.”

“I’m not trying to blame you.”

“And I’m saying there’s no reason to even think about blame right now, which means you can’t blame yourself either.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

There was a very short pause before you continued.

“The flirting is just meaningless fun, but I never realized it bothered you.”

“It really doesn’t,” Chaewon replied quietly. “I was just trying to make sense of how I was feeling, I could never actually get upset at Zuha, I love that girl far too much.”

“It’s not an easy situation,” you replied before pressing your lips down on the top of Chaewon’s head, holding them there for a second before kissing her. “So, I guess the question is, what happens now?”

“I guess the first thing is that I should stop being over sensitive,” she said with a meek laugh.

“You’re not being over sensitive,” you argued. “If anything, I find it reassuring in a way.”

“It’s really not the physical part that ever bothered me,” Chaewon continued slowly. “Genuinely, you sleeping with Zuha doesn’t bother me at all, even now.”

“It’s okay if it does.”

“No, seriously,” Chaewon repeated firmly. “It was the dumb idea that you’d leave me that got to me.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know, I trust you,” she smiled. “If it really went as well as you said it did, I want you to sleep with her again.”

“What?” you coughed, not believing your ears. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to be okay with this.”

“And that’s exactly why I want you to do it,” she replied casually. “I can tell you don’t believe me when I say I’m fine with it.”

“I do believe you-”

“No you don’t,” Chaewon chuckled. “Especially not after this whole reaction.”

“Okay maybe a tiny part of me is a bit hesitant,” you admitted.

I get that,” she continued. “I don’t know how else to convince you, though.”

“Why do you need to convince me?” you asked.

“Because, you big dummy, I’m the one who told you to sleep with her,” Chaewon snuggled up next to you again. “Until I’m convinced you believe me when I say it’s okay, you have to keep sleeping with her. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I put you in this situation otherwise.”

“I don’t know about this,” you hesitated.

“I’m going to tell her you didn’t have a good time, then,” Chaewon threatened, looking at you.

“You wouldn’t dare do that to her,” you playfully gasped, knowing she’d never even consider jokingly hurting Kazuha like that.

“Sure you wanna test that?” Chaewon replied dramatically. “Would you really risk it?”

“Sweetheart,” you started, shifting your tone to a much more serious one. “What if I don’t want to sleep with her?”

“Are you honestly telling me you don’t want to sleep with Kazuha?”

“If there’s any chance it would hurt you, yeah that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

She paused for a second, contemplating your words deeply.

“I’m telling you it won’t hurt me, now do you still refuse to sleep with her? Do you not find her attractive?”

“I mean… I…”

“Do you love her?” Chaewon asked suddenly.

“Not like that,” you answered immediately. “You’re the only person I love like that.”

“Then just do it,” she added quietly. “For me.”

“What a fucking deal,” you mumbled, your mind suddenly thinking about Kazuha again. “I love you so much.”

“To be clear, this doesn’t mean you stop sleeping with me, I’m still your girlfriend,” Chaewon replied sternly. “And I love you, too.”

“Even better,” you laughed. “But wait, what if Kazuha doesn’t want to-”

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry.”

“Why not? She was pretty quiet during the drive back this morning, maybe she didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought she did.”

“She did.”

“How can you…” you started before it hit you. “She already told you how it went.”

“I got a text that same night,” Chaewon giggled. “I just wanted to hear your side of it.”

“What did she say?”

“Ask her yourself,” Chaewon teased before turning her back.

Your mind began imagining all the possibilities those texts could say as you snuggled up behind Chaewon. You gave her a playful slap on her ass before wrapping her up in your arms.

“Fine, I’ll ask her later, I’m going back to bed.”

“Lazy bum, I gotta go soon, are you not coming with?” Chaewon asked as she playfully pressed her backside into your crotch.

“I barely slept at all last night.”

“Too busy staring at Kazuha?”

“I’d say it was worth it,” you yawned, feeling the blood starting to rush to your crotch as Chaewon’s ass pushed against you. “When you say soon, how soon are we talking?”

“Too soon to do what you’re thinking.”

“You sure about that?” you whispered into her ear as you wrapped an arm around her body and slipped your hand between her legs. “It could be quick.”

“Certain,” Chaewon giggled, squeezing her legs together to trap your hand.

“I’m getting mixed signals here.”

“Figure it out.”

“Let go of my hand and I’ll convince you to show up late to whatever you have going on.”

Chaewon spread her legs enough for you to regain control of your hand, but before you could react she had already jumped out of the bed.

“Sorry, you’re not convincing enough,” she teased, running over to her closet to get changed. “Try again next time.”

“Come on,” you whined. “You can’t just get me all excited just to leave.”

“I can,” Chaewon replied without evening looking back at you as she took her outfit out of the closet.  “You can jerk off while I change,” she teased, bending over extra deep as she took her shorts off, tossing them at your face before putting her sweatpants on.

“That’s not fun.”

“Make it fun,” Chaewon took off her oversized shirt, putting on a fitted crop top. “There’s a plug in the top drawer, shove it up your ass.”

“Since when do you have a plug?” you chuckled, calling out her bluff.

“It vibrates,” she replied, winking at you before walking to the door. “I’ll be back in like two hours, love you!”

“Love you, too,” you replied back as she closed the door behind her.

—

When you woke up, Chaewon was still gone. There was an obnoxiously adorable pink sticky note decorated with hand-drawn hearts on the side table with your name written on the top. Next to it, a glass of water and a small piece of chocolate.

Had to go back to the office, come visit when you wake up sleepyhead.

So it seemed Chaewon came back and left already. It didn’t even occur to you how tired your body must have been for you to sleep through that; Hopefully Kazuha was doing better than you today. You got out of Chaewon’s bed feeling refreshed and walked over to her bathroom. Here, you found more confirmation that Chaewon stopped by as there was a very distinct outline of her lips drawn in lipstick on your cheek.

“Silly girl,” you mumbled to yourself before wiping it off.

The drive over to the office was relatively uneventful. You had stopped by a bakery to pick up a little treat for Chaewon, returning the small gesture she left you earlier. Once you arrived, you barely had three minutes to speak with your girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea when we’ll be done tonight,” Chaewon sighed, giving you a quick hug after the rest of the members left the two of you alone.

“Don’t worry, I know how this works,” you reassured her, handing her the little paper bag. “You’re all sweaty.”

“That’s not what I wanna hear,” she complained as she looked into the bag. “It’s because I’m working hard.”

“I bet you are,” you leaned forward and gave her a little peck on the cheek. “What’s your plan tomorrow?”

“More of this,” Chaewon sighed. “Idol work never really ends, I think we have a variety shooting tomorrow.”

“Which means I won’t see you all day.”

“I’m sorry babe,” Chaewon placed her arms on your shoulders. “I’ll text you during every break.”

“No, it’s fine, I can go one day without talking to you,” you jokingly sniffled, pretending to wipe a tear from your eye.

“Don’t do that,” she whined, pouting at you. “I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m just kidding,” you smiled at her, giving her a little pat on her butt. “Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.”

“By the way, was Kazuha acting a little odd just now?”

“I didn’t really notice anything, why?”

“Hmm, it’s probably nothing,” you shook your head slightly. “Alright, get back to your hard work before you get in trouble.”

“I’m blaming you if I do,” Chaewon gave you one last kiss before scurrying away to catch up with the rest of the girls.

—

Just as you predicted, there was no opportunity to meet up with Chaewon the next day. Luckily you had a small buildup of work that kept you occupied throughout the day. You did end up texting her as much as you could, but you knew she was busy so you tried to be as supportive as you could. Overall, the day went by smoothly, and before you knew it you were getting ready to sleep. Then, just as you were about to get ready to get into bed, your phone rang.

“Hello cutie,” you answered the Facetime call.

“Hey, just got home,” Chaewon replied, smiling at you. “Why are you topless?”

“I was about to sleep,” you answered. “Why aren’t you topless.”

There was a collective ‘eww’ that rang through the phone immediately.

“I didn’t realize you weren’t alone,” you laughed as Chaewon shook her head with a smile. “Hey girls.”

A slurry of greetings came through the phone as Chaewon turned the camera around to show the rest of the group waving at you.

“Why aren’t you here!” Yunjin shouted from the back. “What kind of boyfriend are you!”

“She told me not to come!”

“Way to throw me under the bus,” Chaewon glared at you as the girls started teasing her.

“It’s true though.”

“Don’t make me hangup,” she threatened as she walked up the stairs to her room. “And to think, I was actually going to take my shirt off.”

“Wait no-”

“I guess I’ll just go to sleep,” Chaewon exaggerated a sigh. “I am pretty tired after all, long day.”

“Chaewon, stop teasing.”

“What, you still want me to take my shirt off?” she asked innocently as she jumped into her bed. “Say please.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” you chuckled. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting,” Chaewon sighed for real, putting the phone down next to her on the bed. “You free tomorrow? I still have to go to the office, but I’ll have way more time to chill.”

“I could probably stop by after lunch.”

“That works,” Chaewon picked the phone back up, her bare shoulders in frame now. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you replied. “Want me to come spend the night?”

“No, I need to actually sleep.”

“Well yeah, that would be the plan.”

“We both know it wouldn’t work like that,” Chaewon giggled. “Not that I’d mind.”

“If that’s the case, maybe I actually will come over.”

“Just move in already.”

“Excuse me, aren’t you the one stopping that from happening?” you called her out.

“I changed my mind, I want you to fuck me every night,” Chaewon moaned into the phone.

“Don’t fucking do this to me,” you groaned. “Not when I’m here and you’re there.”

“I’m sorry babe, I’m just so…” she closed her eyes, mouth slightly agape. “So fucking wet.”

“Oh my God, stop teasing.”

Chaewon burst out giggling, loving the control she had over you.

“Come in!” Chaewon shouted, looking up from the phone.

“Hey, are my earbuds still in your bag?” a distant Kazuha’s voice came through.

“Oh yeah I forgot, they should be,” Chaewon answered. “On the chair, under my jacket.”

“Hey Kazuha!” you shouted through the phone.

Chaewon held the phone up for her.

“Oh! Hello!” Kazuha stuttered awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you were still on a call, I’ll leave you two alone!”

“Goodnight Zuha,” Chaewon called out, pointing the phone back to her face as Kazuha closed the door behind her.

“Did that seem weird to you?”

“What?”

“That interaction, she just seemed kinda… different?”

“I think you might be overthinking it,” Chaewon yawned.

“She seemed a bit off yesterday when I stopped by, too.”

“She’s probably just tired.”

“Maybe…” you began thinking.

“You think it has something to do with the other night?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really talked to her about it,” you answered. “Has she said anything to you?”

“Nope, but we’ve also been incredibly busy these last couple days.”

“RIght, whatever I’ll figure it out later. You should probably get some sleep.”

“So you’re going to make me take off my clothes for you and then just leave me?” Chaewon puffed out her cheeks, letting the phone drop just enough so you could see a bit of her bare chest.

“I’ll drive over right now.”

“Goodnight, love you,” Chaewon giggled while hanging up the phone.

—

Just as you promised, you showed up to the office the next day after finishing your work. Since you ended up running late and missing lunch, you decided to indulge yourself in the HYBE cafeteria. The food was phenomenal, a convenient perk of having Chaewon’s guest pass, and since it was a late lunch there was no one around to bother you.

After finishing your meal, you went and found where the girls were. Today was a light day, they were just practicing the choreo for some of the b-sides of their album, keeping it light as a sort of rest day. You quietly snuck into the dance studio, taking a seat on the couch in the back of the room. The girls, professional as can be, didn’t even miss a beat when you walked in and finished the routine.

As the final note of the song played, they finally dropped their ending poses and let out sighs of relief. A couple of them dropped straight to the floor, sitting or laying down, while the rest walked over to you.

“The days just get longer and longer,” Yunjin sighed, falling onto the couch before looking at you. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad, yourself?” you answered.

“Tired.”

“It’s just for a bit more,” Sakura chimed in from the other couch. “And come on, today was pretty fun.”

“A nap would be pretty fun,” Yunjin joked.

“Oh great idea, let’s all nap!” Chaewon agreed excitedly as she sat down next to you.

“Come on, where is the energy!” Sakura laughed. “This is the first easy day we’ve had in so long, go drink some coffee or something!”

“Coffee too far,” Chaewon whined, leaning on you. “Nap instead.”

“Yeah, nap instead,” Yunjin agreed.

“It’s literally down the hall, look, those two are going,” Sakura shook her head in disbelief before staring at herself in the mirror and repeating a few of the motions.

“I love that part,” you commented as you watched her dance. “You always nail the expressions so damn perfectly, even when you’re practicing you always stay consistent.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sakura paused to look at you before immediately turning away to hide the subtle blush on her cheeks.

“Why don’t you compliment me like that,” Chaewon poked you in your side.

“Someones in trouble,” Yunjin sang while scrolling through her phone.

“I do compliment you like that, like, all the time,” you replied, wrapping your arm around her.

“Not enough,” Chaewon grumbled. “And you didn’t get me coffee.”

“Do you want me to get you coffee?”

“No, it’s fine,” she exhaled with a superfluous ‘hmph’. “Clearly you don’t want to, and I only want it if you want to get me coffee.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” you chuckled, giving Chaewon a playful pat on her hip. “I’ll get the coffee, be back in a minute.”

—

“Does this work?” Kazuha asked, opening the door to a conference room. “I don’t think anyone will bother us here.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you answered, walking into the room and taking a seat at the table.

Kazuha walked around the table, sitting on the chair next to you. She waited a beat before deciding to stand back up and move the chair closer to you.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

That was a lot more upfront than you expected.

“It’s okay,” you replied gently, placing a hand on her thigh. “I figured you just needed time, and that’s totally okay.”

“I did,” Kazuha agreed with a nod, staring at your hand. “Ever since that night, I’ve felt… differently towards you.”

“Understandable, it’s not a small thing to do,” you replied, encouraging her to continue.

Kazuha looked up from her lap into your eyes.

“I think I’m starting to have feelings for you.”

The silence was palpable. It almost felt like you could feel your heart in your throat. You were at a loss for words; This playful, silly girl who would constantly tease you, constantly mess with you, it was already so rare to see her soft side, but hearing this completely threw you for a loop.

“Zuha,” you started cautiously. “Please don’t take this as me dismissing your feelings, but I’m just saying sometimes these things can be complicated. We did just go through a big event together.”

“It’s not just the sex,” she replied quietly, her eyes starting to shine. “I’ve been feeling something towards you for a while.”

“I understand, but I’m in a committed relation-”

“I know,” Kazuha interjected. “And I would never try to ruin that for either of you.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“It’s just how… I feel…” she continued, pausing before adding more in a whisper. “I can’t help it.”

“Zuha, I do have a lot of love for you, but not in that way.”

“That doesn’t-” she stopped, getting choked up for a moment.

“Come here,” you whispered, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “It’ll be alright.”

Both of you held the embrace for probably a minute in silence. Kazuha let out a single sniffle before letting go of you, standing there in front of you. She looked so vulnerable, so delicate in this moment, it was difficult to come up with the next words.

“Zuha-”

The world barely escaped your lips before suddenly Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you. At first, you were in shock - but you didn’t pull back. The tenderness of her lips felt perfect in this moment, the softness of her kiss, the gentle way her hands grabbed your body. It went on for a few seconds before she pulled back, staring at you in anticipation for what would happen next.

What did end up happening next was something you really couldn’t explain. You wrapped your arms around her and started kissing her again. This time it was still just as tender and loving as before, but also significantly more passionate. Your noses brushed against each other’s faces, hands exploring each other’s bodies. Your lips remained glued together.

With your leg, you kicked the chair behind Kazuha away, still with your lips attached to hers. Slowly, you pressed forward harder until Kazuha was bending backwards; You pushed forward until she was laying on the massive conference table. Carefully, you leaned over her, kissing her soft lips repeatedly, squishing against her tenderness.

She began clawing at your back, feeling your body while your hands explored the sides of hers. Even through her thin shirt her perfectly sculpted body that she worked so hard for could be felt, and it felt amazing. The kiss kept going, her legs sort of wrapped around your hips and her hands moved up, cupping your face.

After what felt like an eternity, you leaned back, letting her fingers gently stroke your cheeks as you stood up in front of her. She looked up at you for a second, her hair spread on the table, before lifting herself up so that she was sitting on the table in front of you with her legs still spread around your body. You took a step back, giving her space to hop off the table.

She stared at you with an expressionless face. There was yet another pause, neither of you knew what to say. The two of you simply inhaled and exhaled, almost in unison. You could hear your heart beating in your chest, and in a way you almost felt like you could hear hers beating, too. It was Kazuha who decided to break the silence with a whisper.

“I’m going to go.”

Those were the last words spoken in the room before she scurried away. Nothing made sense right now. You simply stood there in the empty conference room, staring at the door that Kazuha had just exited through, not understanding fully what just happened.

---

A/N:

Did I just write a chapter WITHOUT A SEX SCENE? Wow, look at that, it's like the title of this one is partially about the story and partially about me. So yeah, I'm kinda more interested in writing some more stuff like this and pulling back a tiny bit on the sex. I've written plenty of raw smut scenes throughout my works, if anyone is really craving that they can just go reread or something. This does NOT mean that I'm never writing a sex scene in this story by the way.

Let me know what you guys think! The story is going to probably get much more spicy in the immediate future as I play with this love triangle (or is it a square?) dynamic. Who knows what I'll do (I do). If anyone is invested enough into this story to hit me with some predictions, do it up, I adore reading theories! Or any comments to be honest, I always welcome them.

[nuria-schnee]

Hi, everyone! ❤️

When I said I might write this, I didn't think I'd be going so insane over it, but here we are. The brainrot is strong, and I'm determined to create as much as I can. I love the series with all my heart, and I love this beautiful fandom, and what happened won't stop us, dammit.

I was so angry and sad yesterday that ideas didn't stop coming, and before I knew I had most of the fic outlined and was already working on the screencaps for it.

Anyway, this is my attempt to write the season we deserved. I wanted to bring a bit of content in this hard time for all of us. I hope it works, even if only for a bit. This is just a preview, but I wanted to share even so.

A bit of information

Publication date of the 1st chapter: September 14th

I'll update every two weeks (hopefully)

Every chapter will be an "episode"

Every Wednesday I'll be sharing a "sneak peek" of the next chapter here on Tumblr, so you don't have to wait so long

Every chapter will have a playlist.

I'll be sharing the screencaps of the chapters as the story goes. No spoilers in them, don't worry.

The work on AO3 is already posted, in case someone wants to subscribe already and get the notification when I post the first chapter. Now, there's only an index with what I'm sharing on Tumblr, and I'll update it regularly.

Don't forget to take care of yourselves ❤️ See you very soon!

Transcriptions of the summary and chapters below the cut!

Summary

Ghosts are going missing all around London. The disappearances lead Edwin and Charles directly to a mysterious entity, known as The Summoner, that is about to make their afterlives very complicated.

Chapters

The Case of the Flashing Light: Months after returning from Port Townsend, the Dead Boy Detectives find themselves overloaded with cases of ghosts disappearing all around London. As they investigate this mystery, someone seems to be trying to catch Edwin's attention through the agency's mirror.

The Case of the White Realm:

The Case of the Explosive Garden: Things are tense in the agency after the last case, but none of them wants to address it. They are too busy for that. The cases of missing ghosts are piling up on their desk and the Summoner is still out there, hidden in the shadows of the city, causing trouble. The boys manage to track him down and end up in an enchanted mansion, where nothing is what it seems.

 The Case of the Ghostly Masquerade

 The Case of the Blurred Painting

 The Case of the 80s Deathday Party

 The Case of the Star-Crossed Lovers

 The Case of the Dark Void

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute

➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!

ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?

besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 

you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 

logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.

you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).

still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 

recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.

the conversations usually go a little something like:

“oh, you really don’t need to—”

“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”

it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 

while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 

tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?

the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 

the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 

he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 

“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:

“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”

“... wedding’s been canceled…”

“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.

“she was seeing someone else…”

“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”

“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”

“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”

“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”

“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”

he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.

“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”

“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 

then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 

the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.

there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.

his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.

“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”

after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.

“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”

“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.

“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”

“well, yes, but—”

“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”

“... you do?”

“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”

logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”

“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”

“although?”

“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”

“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”

you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”

“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”

“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”

“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 

you hummed, “of course, you can.”

even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.

you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”

“i thought you would never ask.”

tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm

With the beginning of a new day it was like the calm before the storm. You stood up pretty late at night, making your way to a center, luckily they didn’t push for information knowing your situation is a dime a dozen around these parts.

Thank god. Though you did debate giving them your name or even a nickname, you decided against it. After all, you’re not staying here long term, you don’t need to cement your name here. Not as a civilian, or as spider-woman.

You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong here.

After having a fresh meal, bless the hearts of the passionate people out there giving out kindness like air, fix yourself up, and return to your makeshift home to decompress.

The cold air nipping at your face cools you off, making you vigilant of your surroundings. Quiet, a bit too quiet. Gotham isn’t known for its silence after all. Pushing the uncomfortable feelings aside, you decide to call it a night.

Making significant progress on your watch became your saving grace. The anchor of your sanity.

So the first thing you did in the morning was quickly get a nice breakfast at a shelter before dedicating your time to building the beacon until nightfall.

The voices in your head were getting restless so you even fixed up a radio you found in the piles of junk just to have a noise buzz in the background.

Days, you spent days inside this safezone you made a shelter out of. Two days to be exact. With how limited and unlimited your resources are, you had no time to waste. You had your own world to get back to, and help Miguel stop the Spot. Every day you spend here is costing you so much already. But you keep going, because you know you’re making progress.

Your routine was mostly some time in the morning, eat and wash up at any center, and go straight back to the junkyard. Snack for lunch and for dinner, back at another center. You make sure to hop around so as to not draw attention or to get familiar with anyone.

You don’t belong. Pretender, faker, liar, fraud, phony, sham.

You know that better than anyone else. You feel like a fraud. This world is like a different color pallet, monochromatic to you. You can’t stain this world with your presence.

You’re getting nauseous just thinking about it.

When taking some semblance of a break, you usually take walks to calm your mind in the morning, where crime is least likely to occur. And so far, you’re right!

Though there were a few (three) instances of muggers, and a drug dealer. Though you did stop (and robbed) them, but not as spider-woman, just as normal (fake) civilian you.

Those were the one’s just in your way or happening to you. Other than that, you have not put on the spider-woman suit to fight crime.

Why would you?

You were about to return home soon, if everything ends well. And it seems like luck is on your side since you have not caught a glimpse or heard any of the batsonas nearby. This also gave you hope.

So, how do you celebrate your near completion of your super secret science project?

Well, with ice-cream and a place of destination for your super secret science project!

So off to the library you go!

Finishing your ice-cream, you take in a breath of the polluted air of Gotham and make your way towards the library.

It was silent, and tranquil. Something you weren’t able to feel for some time. No big baddies escaping Arkham, no terrorist attacks, no bombing threats, no bat encounters, nothing. Just silence, and peace. And you embrace it with everything you have.

Your constant tense body finally felt itself ease as your stress levels went down.

Entering the library and once again greeting the librarian, you made your way back to the same seat you did days ago. With a clear mind, you browse the maps and possible locations for your beacon.

Finding a couple of very good locations, you made sure to memorize the landmarks and streets so you can pick the closest one.

You were giddy! Basically shaking in excitement. Tonight is the night! You just need to tweak a few things and you would be good to go! You would finally have a signal that can ping your location! And if you have time, you will be able to message Miguel through your signal.

With excitement, you quickly left the library and made your way back to the junkyard. Days of your blood sweat and tears, will all finally pay off your desperation to go back home.

Just a couple of adjustments.

Running into the warehouse, you turned on the radio and began to work.

Hours upon hours and you finally managed to get something done. It might have looked like a baby’s school robotics science project but hey! Ya got something at least!

You made something fast, not pretty.

Now, to connect his baby to a power source that won’t reveal your location- god knows you don’t need the bats up on your ass. If you trusted this world more, maybe you would have gone to Batman/Bruce Wayne first. But you know that- one, that idea is garbage at best, that’s how you would most likely get your cute ass locked at Arkham. And two, you know for a fact that Batman doesn’t trust metahumans or something- and you having enhanced powers in your fucking DNA, makes you the paranoid one.

You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially the Batman’s. It just boils down to, you don’t trust him or his brood of sidekicks. That and the fact that if you could do it by yourself then you will.

And you’re already doing it. Ha! Take that universe!

This was a job for spider-woman. Changing into your suit, you hurriedly carried your mini beacon, and soared through buildings to find an appropriate source of electricity. You know you don’t have the right technology (you’re using scraps for fuck sake) to create an effective and accurate signal, but with this little baby, you should be able to send out a general area ping.

This way, for anyone who is looking for you (you fucking hope so) they can lock into a general area of the multiverse.

You are holding onto hope you get discovered soon.

Landing on top of a random construction site, you made quick work setting your things up. Connecting the cable to your beacon, and one towards your watch, you use the last cable and walk over a power generator.

This is it, this is where you’ll finally finally have a semblance of a chance to leave this universe. You just want to go home. You don’t exist here, you checked when scrolling through the web.

Not someone who looks like you- or a spider-woman either. You don’t belong here, and you never had the intention to play pretend either. This world isn’t your problem and you aren’t needed. So, now you’ll ping your location and go home.

Your very own emergency distress signal.

You plug your cable in the generator and it causes a power surge.

You pray to be discovered.

-

“B! It’s happening again!” Oracle’s alarmed voice caused Batman to head out immediately. “But this time it’s different!”

“Same place?” Hopping into his batmobile he sped off. “Different how?”

“No, this time it’s in the Narrows. A construction site twenty minutes from your location. It’s pinging like crazy!” Oracle couldn’t understand what was happening.

It had been a regular Thursday night until she got a ping of another disturbance. Not quite the ‘quantum disturbance’ like a few days ago, but then it was the flickering power surge. She was quick this time, getting an accurate location and with Batman on the way, they’ll find out what this is.

“It’s definitely the same as a few days ago, but not big enough, not strong enough. Causing a power surge!”

The surge only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds too long. Then silence and all the light and energy came flickering back in that area.

“Robin’s close, he’s on his way B.” As if nothing had happened. Oracle wasted no time in finding cameras to see the situation. But the ripple effect caused security cameras to shut down for the duration of the surge. “Shit. Cameras are down- can’t find anyone in or out.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. This was a grunt of annoyance.

Upon arriving on the scene, Batman made his way through the partially completed construction site. There stood only one other figure, and it was Robin.

“There was no sign of the perpetrator when I got here.” He spoke, his fixed glare at the spot where the ping was the strongest. “I surveyed the surroundings, nothing.” Frustration was clear in his voice and clenched teeth.

This confirms what Oracle said through the comms.

Batman sighed. Whatever was here, left just as quickly. This means that whatever caused a quantum disturbance days ago, is still here. In his city. In Gotham. And when he finds them, he’ll make sure to squeeze out every bit of information they possess.

He won’t take any chances of possible alien life force coming and going as they please.

“We’re not completely at a loss.” His words caught Robin’s attention, so he continued. “That means whoever did this is still here. It wasn’t as big as the other one, which means the recreation was not enough. Whoever or whatever it is, is still here.”

Robin processed the information and affirmed. “Understood. Means they will try again. And soon.” Robin makes sure to ping this area as a priority zone.

Batman nodded. He will find whoever is behind this. No matter the costs.

Nothing will escape their watch.

-

“No! No no nonono!”

Just as you plugged in the cable to the generator a huge surge of power came through, quickly to find a connection.

Your watch sprang to life, a bright screen greeted you and quickly you sprung to action. Seeing the universe number glitch but readable.

Finding a smidgen of a connection, you started calling Miguel; it couldn't even connect.

You wanted to sob.

“Miguel! Miguel please please see this! Please please please!” Then the connection went out and the watch turned black.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down on you.

You tried, you really did try! You did your best. You have always done your best. But in the end, it seems that no matter how hard you fought or tried to fight, defend, and protect, it just was never enough. But you lost waaaaay too much to give up. Especially now.

You’ll get discovered soon. And not by the ones you want to meet. “Fuck!”

You couldn’t let this get to you. They might be coming. Quickly unplugging the cables you grab the beacon and swing away, using the night as your cover to make a grand escape.

After all, you still were able to at least find a connection, just not a strong one. Try again next time.

A fire grew inside you. That’s right, you’ll just try again, and this time make something better. As long as you weren’t caught you can still make something better. “Can’t give up.” You spoke through your tears. You’ll fix this, you have too. It’s just you against the world.

Just like Miguel, you’ll throw yourself into fixing things. Making it better.

The obsession of trying to make things right by any means necessary, broken and unbroken. Take things apart and build it back together again, same and before, or better, greater even.

A Tinkerer if you will. Anything to be useful, needed, wanted. And in order for you to feel that, you’ll build an even stronger signal. This time, you’ll make your watch better.

You know Hobie Brown knows how to build his own watch. You both do. Discussed it when Hobie casually said he missed your presence at times. So you’ll just upgrade yours.

Building a better beacon and upgrading your watch requires more material. So you’ll plan for the days ahead. You will learn from this failure. You have to. You need to.

Your greatest failures were failing to save Ben, protect May, and defend Peter, those you cared for the most. You can’t afford to fail this. You will make it back. It just seems that you’ll be stuck here just a tad bit longer.

“That’s okay… everything will be okay.” Your erratic mind becomes calm again.

You learned to take responsibility for your actions and mistakes, learned to accept the consequences and help others face their own, and finally to heal and move forwards, to hope. And right now, you’re hoping for a better outcome soon.

“I can do this.” Landing on the warehouse you climbed through a window, throwing your mask to the side, landing on your workbench. “I can do better.”

You were known as a dangerous spider. You have years of experience, years of trials and tribulations, you’re smart, curious, and compassionate. But you’re hungry, always hungry to learn more, to consume knowledge. You use what you learn and become better than yesterday.

You’re a dangerous spider because you always come out of every experience learning more, learning to be better as you adapt, plan and overcome every obstacle in your way.

You’re a dangerous spider, because you push yourself to the brink it’s almost madness. Your obsession of not being weak, helpless, and vulnerable forced your body to adapt at a rapid pace. It terrified your enemies and comrades. And how easily you can hide that obsession is also terrifying.

It’s the calm before the storm.

And right now, you need to plan better. You’ll leave the Narrows, go somewhere else. Possibly Park Row? No. That’s the Red Hoods territory. Maybe somewhere less chaotic. Oh! East End sounds perfect! It’s one of the places Batman doesn’t really interfere with.

Perfect.

You’ll only leave once you finish your beacons. Because you know the bats will come here, and most certainly discover that someone has been here building no matter how you try to cover up your doings.

Batman is just that good. You just won’t take any chances.

-

In a different universe far faaaaaaar away. Miguel discovered a heartbreaking partially audible voice recording of his missing protégé.

Location unknown. Coordinates unknown. Universe unknown.

You were lost, and he doesn’t know how to find you.

Prev; Next;

I know it feels like I'm rushing and to that- fair probably. I also really want to get into the bat family and stuff. Their actual civilian personas i mean. Not their vigilante alter ego. You are going to meet them next chapter for sure, I just need to find a way to up the states for you. Make you feel dread and anxious.

I'm not a funny person, so I feel like I am doing the spider-sona injustice. Rip.

[myokk]

Eloise🥹💓

[novemberheart]

{overview} John tightens his control. You get a reality check

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, fem reader, cursing, this is a John-heavy chapter

Chapter 6 <- Chapter 7 -> Chapter 8

You were thoroughly exhausted by the time you got back home. Johnny watched your sluggish form, half tempted to throw you over his shoulder.

“There you three are.” John greeted as soon as Kyle opened the door. John's eyes widened as Kyle came in with two large shopping bags. “I see you enjoyed your day out.” He raised a brow, his eyes roaming over your sleepy state.

“I had a very good day,” you spoke, beginning to take the bags from Kyle to bring them to your room.

“I got it,” he assured softly. “Dinners in a few,” he reminded. The thought of eating anything else today made your stomach hurt.

“I don't think I can eat anything else. I'd like to just stay here if it's alright with you?” you questioned as he set the bag down by your door. One of your hands came up to rub at your eyes. He smiled knowingly, nodding his head in agreement.

“I’ll bring you back a dessert.” he winked.

You had begun to curl yourself up in bed when your phone went off.

“Hey, honey.” Kate greeted, almost hesitantly.

“Hi.” you chirped back. You could practically see her shoulders relax. “Guess who had a great day today.” you sang, pulling your covers over your head.

“Please God, be you,” she smirked on the other end.

“Ding. Ding. That would be correct.” you cheered. “Kyle and Johnny took me to the aquarium today, then out to lunch and then shopping.”

“Those are the boys I know.” she sighed- relieved. “Actually better than the boys I know. How'd you swing that?” she questioned.

“I didn't do anything. At first, I thought you said some”-

“I wouldn't do that,” she interjected.

“I know.” you soothed back. “I think maybe they felt bad about yesterday.” you reasoned.

“Well, hopefully, they keep it up. The good part, not the guilt part.”

“Fingers crossed.” you sighed. “Thanks for checking in Kate.”

“Of course, Honey. Oh and by the way you and John are going to have to stop by my office tomorrow. Paperwork and key cards. Nothing fun.” she huffed.

“Alright. See you then. Tell wifey I said ‘hi.’” you smiled, pressing the big red button.

You awoke especially chipper that morning. Only for that to be squashed the second you realized you were the only one in the house. John had left a note on the fridge.

Morning,

Out for a morning meeting, we’ll pick you back up for breakfast. Have fun with Simon.

-John

Simon?

“Don’t scream.” a voice echoed from behind you causing you to shriek. “Fucking hell,” Simon muttered under his breath.

“What are you doing on the couch?” you gasped, wondering how you missed his imposing frame spread out.

“You need to work on your awareness.” he chided, adjusting so he was sitting up. A pained groan escaped him and you rushed over to help. He held up a hand to stop you. “Don't need babying pup.” he groaned.

“Help isn't babying Simon.” you ignored the flutter in your stomach at his nickname for you. You plopped down on the couch next to him.

“How was your date yesterday?” he questioned, his blank eyes boring into yours.

“I had fun.” you smiled widely, cuddling into the plush cushion.

“Good.” he sighed. He turned back to the TV that was on mute.

“Why are you on the couch?” you repeated. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

“Beds shite.” he huffed. He flicked the mute button off, deciding it was the end of the conversation.

“Are you happy to be home?” you piqued up.

“Happy to be in a quiet home,” he answered.

“Message received.” you snorted, turning to watch whatever prank show he had on.

“Honey, I'm home,” Johnny called bounding into view. He was carrying two takeout bags, handing one to Simon who eagerly began digging into it. Johnny pushed Simon's feet aside to make room for himself on the couch.

“How'd you sleep, Bon?” Johnny questioned.

“I slept good,” you replied, a little too focused on the food.

John rested a hand on the back of the couch, his other hand resting on your shoulder.

“Ready?” he hummed, nodding his head towards the door. You blushed as your stomach growled. “I'll take that as a yes,” John smirked. His large hand found a familiar spot on your back. High enough to be respectful, but low enough to send a message to those who passed.

“How was your day out?” John asked. He chose to eat next to you at the table. Considering it was just you and him, he wanted to be within arms reach of you. It was the second time you had been asked the question, but at least they cared.

“It was wonderful.” you declared, turning back to your breakfast.

“Glad to hear,” he spoke softly. John had a very natural and comforting purr to his voice. It was commanding- yet playful. Raspy - yet smooth. The baritone lull in his voice shot from your ears all the way down to your toes. You curled them in your shoes. He was a complicated man. You wondered if he would let you close enough to figure him out.

“Everything alright?” he said slowly. You had been staring at him. You shut your eyes tightly, tilting your head down towards the table.

“Yeah, sorry,” you assured quickly.

“S’alright, Sweetheart. If I've got something on my face please tell me.” he half joked.

“No. I just like the way your voice sounds.” you complimented. You know it didn't have anything to do with the way he looked, but it was an explanation- and the truth.

“That right?” the satisfaction in voice making you preen. “Well I got it from years of yelling and chain-smoking,” he explained, causing your shoulders to relax and a giggle to escape you.

“Well it suits you,” you added. The corners of his lips began to curl before his face fell. You didn't take it personally. You doubted it was professional to show a variety of emotions in the cafeteria.

“Kate has some things for us,” he spoke up after a while.

“Sounds good,” you already knew, but you were worried he would wonder why you didn't say anything.

As soon as Kate opened the door to her office you nearly flung yourself at her, desperate to catch even the slightest hint of a familiar scent. She huffed and patted you on the back before pushing you away. You snickered and plopped down in one of the cold leather seats. John bit back a smile at your excitement and sat down next to you.

Kate's office was nice. There was almost no effort put into it since it was just a temporary one for when she needed to be in the area.

“How have you two been?” she hummed, opening one of the filing cabinets, and fishing out two hefty manila envelopes.

“Good.”

“Fine.” John and you spoke at the same time.

“Heard Simon was able to go back home.” Kate smiled, plopping down in her desk chair.

“He’s recovering quicker. Thanks to this one.” he praised, nodding his head in your direction. You still doubted your part in the process. You had spent half a day with him and you two weren't yet bonded. But the belly-up omega in your head didn't care.

“Glad to hear, keep me posted please.” she requested. “Honey, this is for you.” she handed you the thicker of the two. “Think of it like a diary. It's going to have daily and weekly questions or surveys. There's a month's worth there. After you complete it the Omega Standards Bureau will send you another one and you'll turn that one into the representative on base.” she explained.

“Okay.” you agreed. “Do all omegas have to do this?” you questioned, taking a peek inside the envelope.

“They pick and choose who they give them to. I think they chose you because you're in a smaller SAS pack. With an equal number of alphas to betas all of which are male. Also, you were picked to be in the pack by an outside member, me.” she explained.

“I’m quite the experiment aren't I.” you chuckled, glancing over at John. His eyes were trained on the envelope and you knew he was just itching to dive in there himself.

“Can I ask what type of questions.” he finally spoke up.

“From what I understand it's going to be based more on how she feels throughout the adjustment period of the pack.” Kate clarified.

“Don't worry, I won't be overly specific,” you swore. You could sense his hesitation, which you assumed could be boiled down to having things about his pack exposed. He offered you a reassuring smile.

“This one is for you John.” she passed over the envelope to him. “Hard copies of her records, medical history, and that sort of thing. Also has the Omega Committee calendar with events and things.”

The Omega Committee. You remember Kyle talking to you about that at the aquarium. It was advertised as a club that rounded up all the omegas to do activities, but in reality, it just looked like a daycare.

“There was something else I wanted to discuss with you.” John cleared his throat. Your brows furrowed your mind automatically jumping to the deep end of the paranoid pool. “How would you feel about getting chipped, honey?” John inquired.

You had heard about that before. It was usually done in large packs so alphas knew which omegas belonged to who.

“You can say no of course and I don't want to scare you but I think it would be safer given our line of work,” John explained carefully. He spent half the night discussing with Simon how to bring this topic up to you.

“What would that entail?” you asked softly.

“It’s a small incision behind your ear- wouldn’t even leave a scar. It'll have mine and Simon’s name, and phone number,” he explained. He debated on whether or not he should tell you he wants one with a tracking ability. “How would you feel about one with tracking?”

“Tracking?” you gasped a bit taken aback. “Is that really necessary?” you were beginning to grow worried. You either had very paranoid alphas or you were in more danger than you imagined.

“Not necessary,” he assured quickly. “But I strongly feel it would be a good idea. Kyle has one. We kept getting separated from him on a mission. It’s also easy to take out, should you ever want to.”

The ending made you wince. While he didn't specify you knew the implications.

“I also think it's a good idea.” Kate agreed. “Not that anything will happen, honey. But even something small like getting separated while shopping, just knowing they already know where you are would make you feel better right?”

You weren't sure if Kate had a point or not. You weren't sure if you were ready for that type of control. Then again you have been controlled your whole life. An omega’s ‘purpose’.

“Can I think about it a bit more?” you reasoned gently. John sighed not so much in anger but in disappointment.

“Course.” He responded.

“There’s one more thing.” Kate spoke, her eyes drifting over towards you. It seemed to be time for you to go swimming again. “Tomorrow’s my last day, before heading back to the states.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. What if something happened? What if you needed to leave? Who would be here to help you? She was leaving you here completely and utterly alone. “John, can we have a moment?” She asked, her eyes beginning to water from the sudden tang in the air.

“Course.” He moved quickly, his own mouth watering (not in a pleasant way) at the sourness burning his senses. At least now he knew you had a strong defense mechanism.

“I know”-

“You’re abandoning me!” You cried out cutting her off. “How could you? You said you would be on base.” You sputtered, your fingers digging into the desk.

“For your first few days, honey.” The nickname just rubbed salt in your wounds. “I’ll still be able to help you if you need it. But I believe this will be better for you.” She half- snapped.

“Better for me? How is leaving me with strangers better?” You gawked. A sudden gust of Jasmine and peppermint hit you in the face, followed by the known smell of angry alpha. It was a difficult scent to describe. It was smokey, not in a soothing way, but in an all-consuming hard to breathe way.

“You are relying on me too much. You aren't giving this your best shot because, in the back of your mind you already believe you are going to leave. Do you know what the truth is, honey? You are lucky to be here. You have been paired with a very well-established pack- who, yes, have had a few reservations about you joining, but have made no effort to get rid of you- and they aren't going to. They are just a bunch of stubborn men who don't always know what they need. You are going from the safety of an omega house to the safety of one of the most vital packs in the world. You don't have to bargain for a place to live while you wait for a hopefully kind alpha to choose you. I love you like you are a part of my pack, honey, but I really need you to see how fortunate you are.” She was pleading with you now. The smoke from the air was gone, as were the bitter lemons. You slumped in your seat, your head resting in your hands.

“I’m sorry Kate.” you apologized softly. “I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I guess I just didn't realize”- you trailed off. There were a lot of things you hadn't realized. How important this pack truly was. How highly Kate thought of them. How significant your role in this pack would be. Along with even more respect for Kate, a feeling began to arise in your chest. A tangled web of stress, relief, and most importantly a nauseating wave of hope. You had the chance most omegas could only dream about.

Be the backbone of a strong pack.

And you finally felt ready for the challenge.

Another chapter is done and gone! The next chapter will be posted tomorrow because it's a short one! See you then! 🧡

[shiggyhatesme]

smiley

chapter 1

pairings & cw: prohero!katsuki x fem!reader, following after timeskip, kat is early 20s, language, ushy gushiiinesssss, oh also dad!bakugo

monday 9:05am

it was your favorite time of year. soon after the silly tradition of the groundhog coming up, and to your liking, not seeing his shadow, spring had arrived. that meant gentle breeze’s whispering sweet songs through your hair, warmer temperatures, and blooming flowers.

you walked through the doors of your flower shop and set your bag down on the counter, turning the lights on as you walked through.

vibrant colors of all your favorite flora surrounding you, filling you with warmth.

you began to prepare the flowers, processing some of the new shipments, watering the array of different options, and submitting orders before eventually opening the store.

it was a small quiet shop in the middle of Musutafu, though as quiet as the inside was, you had your fair share of seeing the pro’s outside at work. you didn’t mind though, it kept you entertained throughout your days. business was also never a problem.

you were in the middle of arranging a bouquet for a wedding when you heard the bell on the door ring.

back facing whoever had entered, you spoke “welcome in! how can i help—“

you cut yourself off as you turned around, not expecting to see the no. 2 (or no. 1, it changed often) pro hero, dynamite standing in your entryway.

he quirked a brow at you, “‘fuck’s that face for?”

you realized that you more than likely looked like an absolute idiot with your mouth agape and eyes wide. you cleared your throat as you became a normal person again, throwing him your best attempt at a smile.

“sorry! how can i help you?”

the pro scoffed as he inched forward, meeting you at the front counter. he looked, sort of, uncomfortable. his hand reaching around his head to scratch his neck.

“i was in the area and remembered that my brat is having her kindergarten graduation soon, so i uh,” he trailed, looking away from you as he spoke “need ya to make a stupid small bouquet for her.”

you almost exploded right there from cuteness, but you figured that wouldn’t be a great second impression.

you clasped your hands in front of your chest in excitement practically gushing, “oh how sweet! congratulations to your little one!”

katsuki let out a huff before rolling his eyes, hopefully the mask did enough to cover the subtle rose tinting his cheeks.

you chuckled at him for a moment before speaking, “did your wife leave you with this errand?”

you watched as he tensed, his ruby eyes looking at the counter beneath his hands. “i uh, i’m not married.”

your face fell and you slapped your hands over your obnoxiously loud mouth, “oh my god! sorry that was personal! i’ll shut up now god wow i’m so—“

his eye began to twitch as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“stop yer rambling woman, it’s fine. just help me here.” he interrupted, leaving you to mentally facepalm with cherry red cheeks.

you straightened your posture before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “did you have anything in mind? any colors or specific flowers?”

the spiky haired male shook his head while waving a gloved hand at you, “nah, i don’t know anything about this shit. the brat loves yellow and blue, do with that what you will.”

you nodded excitedly and jotted it down on a notepad.

“now i know you go by ‘great explosion murder god dynamite’, but is there a better, or perhaps shorter, name and number i could put you down by?” you joked, clicking the top of your pen as you looked to him.

he scoffed, crossing his arms, “tch, just put katsuki down. my number is xxx-xxxx, and if you leak it i’ll kill yer ass.”

you snorted as you wrote down his name and number, sticking it on the order wall for future reference. you walked back over to him as you brushed your hands against your apron. “alrighty! i’ll give you a ring when it’s done, which will more than likely be in the next two days.”

he grumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before turning around and heading back out. you watched as he slid his gauntlets back on, finding it sweet that he took them off before coming inside.

as you worked on your unfinished orders for the rest of the day, the sun beginning to cast a warm glow on the pastel walls of your shop, you found yourself thinking of katsuki. you didn’t keep up with the hero world much, but you had seen him in bits and pieces before. and boy was he much more dreamy in person.

a small tinge of excitement wavered throughout your body as you planned out his daughter’s bouquet, questions that weren’t any of your business, flashing through your mind.

you didn’t even know he had a daughter, you thought he was around your age, early 20’s. did he have a girlfriend? was the mother present?

why are you wondering these things when you’ll only ever see him once more out of your entire life?

you shook those thoughts away as the night grew older, eventually closing up shop and heading home, the remnants of winter blowing against your cheeks as you began your trek.

wednesday 11:02am

you didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell behind you, your mind wrapped in god knows what as you watered the plants behind the counter.

katsuki took this as an opportunity to drink up the sight of you, the same sight that he was unable to shake from his mind the day he met you. your sickeningly sweet nature that complimented your soft features, your hair tied up in a knot behind you.

he cleared his throat before throwing a quick ‘oi’ your way.

you jumped at the sound, almost dropping the hose before turning your head towards the front, spotting that all-too-familiar face. turning off the hose you walked up to the front, looking at the watch on your wrist with furrowed brows.

“s-sorry i wasn’t expecting you this quick! i swear i just called you 5 minutes ago.”

katsuki looked away abashed, knowing full well that as soon as he got your message he flew here as quickly as possible. would he ever admit that? no.

he let out a scoff as he crossed his arms, looking out the window. “tch, i was patrolling over here. figured i’d just pick it up now.”

he was in fact not patrolling over here. he was indeed about a 25 minute walk away.

your mouth formed an ‘o’ as you took in his words, clasping your hands in front of your chest in excitement to show him what you made. “well i guess it worked out perfect then! the bouquet is ready, let me grab it.”

you walked to the back where all of the finished orders were and smiled to yourself, grabbing your creation that you were in fact, very proud of.

it’s totally not like you put 100% more effort into this one than the others because it was katsuki, no way..

you walked out with a big smile on your face, hiding the bouquet behind your back as you neared him. “okay…tada!”

you placed it on the counter in front of you for him to observe, holding your breath as he looked it over, pleading it would be to his liking. you took your craft seriously, so this meant a lot to you.

you watched as he fought back the tiniest smirk looking down at it, taking in the array of hydrangeas, blue roses, brunerra, mixed in with the golden yellow daffodils, tulips and marigolds. and in the center of them all sat a cute ‘congratulations’ card, poking above the flowers.

you broke the silence, it becoming too much for you, “please tell me you like it. i can’t quit my profession right now.”

katsuki’s red orbs found yours as he rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle, “don’t be an idiot. they’re nice. i think the brat will love ‘em.”

you released the breath you had been holding and relaxed, silently celebrating.

“thank god! i’m so happy i was able to do this for you guys. i hope her graduation goes well.”

he waved you off before reaching in his pocket for, what you had assumed, was his wallet. you quickly grabbed his, muscular as fuck, arm before he could pull it out.

“please don’t worry about it! on the house, it’s the least i can do, you’re out there kicking ass all day. just tell the little one i said congrats.” you smiled, noticing him looking at you like you belonged in an asylum.

“listen smiley, it’s really not—“

you cut him off as you grabbed the bouquet and shoved it in his hands, walking around the counter to grab his shoulders and guide him out the door.

“nope and nope! go back to kicking ass and maybe come back one day to tell me how she liked it. ciao, katsuki.” you blurted before shoving him out of your glass doors and locking them behind him, watching as he turned around absolutely dumbfounded. you waved him a ‘goodbye’ before turning around and getting back to whatever work you had left.

a couple minutes later you heard a soft knock at your front doors, forgetting that you had locked them. you walked out of the back to see katsuki standing there, an unreadable expression on his face.

you cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms, causing his eyes to roll as he pointed at the lock.

you huffed as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it, poking your head out.

“i already told you, you’re not paying.”

he grumbled in response before meeting your gaze, his brows furrowed, a seemingly common expression for him.

“not that, dumbass. i’d be an idiot if i left here without taking the opportunity to ask, so—“

you looked up at him as he took in a breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

“would you…want to go on a date with me?”

[wandaspup]

Sinners Part Two

Summary: In a small town, you try living up to your mother’s expectations while encountering Wanda Maximoff, a mysterious woman and a childhood friend of your mothers. It leaves you questioning her intentions and your beliefs.

Parings: Wanda x Fem R

Warnings: None besides Wanda testing the waters with you (will be added as I update! ♥️ Happy reading)

Author notes: You are 19 years old while Wanda is 36. Story will be updated every two weeks! Two more chapters left (: Thank you everyone for reading this.

Please read the first chapter if you come across this one first for new readers!

Wanda’s Masterlist

You sauntered downstairs, the clacks of pans getting louder as you descend further into the kitchen. Your mother focused on getting the food on the table. She pointed towards the counter. “Set the silverware and make sure they’re properly placed this time.” 

Today Wanda was coming over. After you got home from Church, she was all you can think about from yesterday. You can still remember the way her expressions shifted when she looked at you, as those eyes followed you around before or so you kept thinking. Even when you sleep, you can still feel her presence lingering in the corner of your room. You know she isn’t there, but glimpses of her face in your dreams felt so real. 

The first time you dream about her, the encounter of déjà vu washes over you. Maybe you were going insane and thinking of another woman around town. 

You placed the silverware carefully, aligning each one just as your mother taught you. Hopefully she won’t throw a tantrum over a spoon placed an inch to the left. She seemed too focused on what she was doing and you’ve never seen your mother this tense or excited. She never mentioned Wanda, but she never mentioned anything about her life back then. She told you It’s a waste of time to babble on about such things. 

The doorbell echoes and you pause, momentarily staring at the silverware in your hand before carefully placing them aside and making your way to the front. You breathe in and out one last time for a good measure and gripped the handle and twisted. The door swings open, your eyes widen in surprise, and it takes you a moment to register Wanda standing before you. She wears a flaxen dress, its fabric rippling in the light breeze and delicately skimming against the sides of her thighs. Her dress reached halfway, giving you a good glimpse at her sun-kissed legs, glistening. A yellow flower nestled in her hair on the left side. She beams and snaps her fingers.

You mentally berated yourself and offered a swift apology. 

Wanda chuckled, her laughter , crossing her arms in front of her. Her smirk widened, and she glanced past you, nodding towards the entrance. “Well, darling, are you planning to keep me waiting out here all day?”

As you stepped aside, she gave you that look, the exact same one back outside the church and suddenly your heart pounded quicker. An aromatic honey apple scent overwhelmed as she passed, your head suddenly heavy as you closed the door and led her to the kitchen. Food was set evenly in the middle of the table, your father already took a seat with your mother. 

“Wonderful to see you again my dear friend.” She gestured at the seat across, and you noticed the only chair left was right next to her’s. Debating on moving it to the other side of the table, you figured your mother would scold you for being rude.

“Well I appreciate you having me over. It’s been awhile since we last saw each other.” 

From there It was nothing but short stories and awkward laughters between all of them. You kept your eyes on your plate, shuffling your food inside your mouth praying this dinner will end soon and you can lock yourself in your room. Once in a while, you’d sneak a glance whenever you heard Wanda speak or laugh at something your father said. Unbeknownst, Wanda knew your cute tactics of being sneaky without batting an eyelash. You’d do it again when she took a sip of wine, her lipstick staining the glass. 

Wanda’s chair screeched unexpectedly, apologizing when her fork slipped out of her hand and clattered to the ground. When she reached for it, she used your thigh for support, her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around with a light grasp, sending a shiver down your spine. "I think I need a new fork," she all but said, her hands still resting in the same place. "Apologies, darlin', hope you didn't mind me using you." Wanda grinned and motioned her hand back and forth before pulling away, leaving a lingering warmth on your thigh.

The weight of her hand was missed for some odd reason you were unable to comprehend. Usually, the gentle pats from an elderly woman at the bread store were just a friendly gesture, never thinking much of it. However, her touch stirred an entirely different sensation. 

One you were sure you’d be praying on your knees begging god forgiveness. You continued to eat, pretending everything was normal and Wanda was only an old friend of your mom’s coming to visit. Wanda went on to answer a few questions asked by your father, while you listened, waiting for Wanda to make her move on you. She seemed to always catch you by surprise. 

“No husband and no kids. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to have kids.”

“Surely the right man will come along in time hon. You’re a gorgeous woman and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at your plate. Wanda shrugged, tugging at her bottom lip before taking another bite. “Maybe, but I think I’ll manage just fine without one,” she said, lifting her glass for a sip and then turning her attention to you. 'What about you? Anyone catching your eye?

The question caught you by surprise but you responded casually, figuring she was trying to get to know you better. “No one at the moment, just focused on getting through college applications, ma’am.” You cleared your throat the second you finished, the last few words getting stuck. From the ugly expression your own mother gave you across the table, she scowled you for not speaking properly. 

Wanda squeezed your arm reassuringly, always ready to come to your rescue. “Oh, she's perfectly fine.” She winked and settled in for a few more bites from her own plate. “I do hope to see you all around town. I figured I’d be delighted to extend my stay.”

Your father nodded and gulped the little bit of wine he had left. “Well, Wanda, you're always welcome here. Perhaps you’d be able to help our daughter with her applications. We never have the time to assist her.

"I can manage just fine, father," you said confidently

Your mother cleared her throat and dabbed her mouth, nodding in agreement. "I don’t want you getting into some party college and wasting your life. God has a plan for you, and you'd better stick to it, girl. Wanda, what do you think?"

Wanda's nose scrunched up, her lips stretched, and a small twinkle settled in her green eyes. You pondered what thoughts were swirling in her head as she agreed. Despite the knot twisting a thousand times over, it seemed clear God did not intend for Wanda swooping in and destroying his plan.  

As you grappled with making sense of your emotions, the sensations from Wanda’s touch made you forget how to use your head. It wasn’t love but rather a twisted plan Wanda woven you into. 

“I should be going.” She scooched out as she stood up, extending her hand. She gazed over towards you. “Be a dear and walk me out.” 

With a brisk nod, you got up and waited for Wanda to gather herself before following her closely behind. You can hear your heart thumping, afraid she might even hear it. As soon as the front door opened, she turned around quicker than you could comprehend the situation. Her eyes floated down your body and back up to your face. “Sure do look beautiful honey.”

When you didn’t reply she grasped your chin between her fingers, one eyebrow raised. “What do we say when someone gives you a compliment?”

“Th—nk you ma’am.”

She hummed pleased. “I’ll be seeing you.”

TAGLIST:

Taglist is closed so the ones on the list will be added for the rest of the chapters until I figure out another way to do a taglist. I was thinking of the google survey thing I saw someone was doing.

if you didn't tag in this for some reason, I either typed in your user and tumblr couldn't find your account . (:

@ifthisaintmee @the-lakes89 @aru-son

@maximoff-jp @unicorniusfallapatorius @random-fag @natashaswife4125 @wndasdoll

@thursdayygrrrl @falloutboy-lover @obsessedwjill @ksandraxox @scarletnatsblog

@bbbyliv0202 @peyt-n @wandaswife13 @criticsstuff @kimlipimsingle @sam-h-69

@rowiebear @thalia-is-not-ok @immclovinmilfs

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 2: The First Taste✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 1

A/N: It is finally here! Sorry that has taken so long to get updated, but this turned out exactly how I wanted it to. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me organize my mood board and for letting me chat your ear off about this series! 🩷

Chapter Summary: You decide to go back to Club Inferno, back to those smoldering brown eyes. Turns out you do want more pleasure from Joel, the club owner.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 11.7k

Chapter Tags: Oral (M/F receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pining, flirting, some fluff, pleasure dom! Joel, reader has doubts, reader has hair, no use of y/n, pleasure dom! Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You spend the next few days at work in a deep haze, your mind completely muddled at the thought of those smoldering dark eyes that haunt your dreams night after night. You can’t concentrate on reorganizing books, can’t focus on your own co-workers as they meander around the library keeping busy while you stand leaning up against a wooden bookshelf doing nothing but looking at the business card Joel gave you. 

   You mindlessly turn the flashy card over and over in your palm, memorizing his phone number, etching his name into your mind as you read his name over and over and over again until the silhouette of his towering body is burned into your brain. You didn’t call, didn’t text him like you should have done after he made you cum on his thigh. God, you want to though. But is it a good idea? Probably not. 

   As you shift the paper card around your fingers, you think of those lust blown eyes, that rugged panting noise he made when he was breathing hard against the shell of your ear, the way those thick fingers felt inside you, the way he called you a good girl and whispered how fucking good you tasted. 

   You slip the card back into the pocket of your jeans and lean your head back against some hardback books in the science section. You huff out and put a hand to your sweating forehead as you fight not to get all worked up again, but it doesn’t work. You’re already wet from thinking about him, so you decide you will see him again. Friday. You’ll go back to the club Friday. 

   You want more, need more. And so you’ll have him. Friday. 

   Your dress flows to the middle of your thighs, the sparkly midnight blue material shimmering under the dim lights of the club as soon as you walk through the front doors of Club Inferno. The bar is crowded, people scattered all around as loud music blares through the speakers. The dance floor is packed, bodies spinning under the crystal lights of the disco ball. Your heart gallops in your chest, your mouth dry as you hope he’s here. Please be here, please be here. 

   You turn toward the lit up bar that’s packed with alcohol lining the back mirrored wall and notice something is different, off. You scan your eyes around and try to decipher what’s changed as you take in the aesthetics of the night club. You peel your eyes over the atmosphere carefully, and you stop in place when you notice it. There’s not just heated red signs around the back walls anymore. There’s now pink ones too, glittering under the dim lights as you furrow your eyebrows up. When did they add the pink signs? Your eyes grow wide at the realization. You mentioned pink signs and how there was too much red last time. He must’ve listened to you…

   The pretty blonde bartender snaps you out of your deep thoughts as she gets your attention. “Need a drink, hun?” she asks as she sets two big glasses of beer in front of two gentlemen in suits in front of you. 

   “Oh, no. Thanks. I was just wondering if Joel was around?” you ask nervously as you look shamefully at her. Hopefully she doesn’t see your cheeks heating up or notice how sweaty your palms are at your sides. 

   She nods her head behind you and smiles as she says, “He’s actually right behind you.”

   You look up at the mirrored wall behind the stacked alcohol bottles and gasp when you see a pair of dark eyes flash in your reflection. You quickly turn around and nearly fall over when you see how handsome he looks tonight. A red button-up collared shirt , sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose tanned skin with corded veins spiraling down his forearms, clean pressed jeans, and slicked back curls that are threaded with grey. He’s so… gorgeous.

   His eyes flick over your body as he rakes a hand slowly through his salt-and-pepper scruff, analyzing your dress, your legs, your eyes. You’re nearly out of breath as he glances your way. “Didn’t think I was gonna hear from you again,” he smiles as he walks up in front of you and stops right where you can smell his woodsy cologne and whiskey scent. He smells so enticing, you could practically swim in the scent if you wanted to. 

   You shrug and let a sigh out. “Couldn’t keep me away, I guess.”

   “Mmm, guess not.” His honey colored eyes trail over your skin again as he smirks and nods toward the bar. “You want a drink?”

   “Okay,” you say quietly as he leads you over to some empty black barstools. You know what a drink will lead to, and it makes your skin simmer with lightning running through your veins. 

   Joel gets the blonde’s attention, and she saunters over and smiles brightly over at him. “What’ll it be, Joel?”

   “Glass of whiskey on the rocks and a Malibu tonic?” His eyebrow arches as he looks over at you, needing approval before he sends her off. You just nod and watch as he gives her the go ahead, letting the smooth bar top rub against your fingertips as you view him turn slowly in his barstool, bumping his knee lightly against yours.

   “You remembered my drink of choice?” you ask with raised brows. 

   “Thought I’d forget, hmm?” He leans forward as he puts his weight into his elbow, resting his hand on his cheek as it trails over his greying scruff. You can’t believe you’re sitting here with him again, almost in the same position you were in last weekend. It’s almost too much. His broadness, his height, the way he’s staring at you. 

   You adjust in your seat, pulling down the fabric of your dress as you clear your throat. “I dunno. Just kind of hard to believe you’d remember something as simple as that about me.”

   He assesses you, watching you carefully as his dark eyes flick over your nervous form. “Drinks are simple, easy to remember. It’s you that’s hard to forget. Your face, your eyes, your scent.” 

   Your eyes grow wide, suffocating on your own breath as the pounding music flits through your ears, your skin forming goosebumps along your inner thighs as those dark eyes gaze into yours, his full attention on you. “My… scent?” you ask all wide-eyed with your mouth slightly agape.

   “Mhm. I could smell that pretty waft of vanilla when you were standing by the bar. Almost like I was breathing you in,” he murmurs, his voice all low and gruff as his thick fingers tap against the glossy bar top, his eyes melding into yours like he wants to devour you. 

   You can feel that thick tension like smoke filling the room, hot embers filing your nostrils as you fight to compose yourself. You lean forward just a bit, enough to brush your knee against his smooth denim, stirring something low that you can’t quite stop. 

   Before he can lean in, the bartender comes back with your drinks, breaking the tension that was just close enough to drown in. “Enjoy!” She smiles as she leaves to attend to other guests. 

   You take the straw in your hand, twirling it around the sloshing alcohol and then take a sip, letting the fruity taste wash away your growing arousal between your thighs. 

   Joel surprises you as he asks a personal question, maybe something to break the tension as he looks up from his amber glass of whiskey. “So, what do you do for work?” 

   You knit your eyebrows together and swallow another mouthful of the fruity liquid as you eye him suspiciously. He wants to know where you work? Interesting. “I work at the library. Austin Central Library. I’m a librarian.”

   He smiles gently your way, eyes all glistening as flecks of dark brown irises crinkle up at you. It’s a softer smile, not the menacing smirk he usually gives you. This one is different. “Should’ve guessed. A book lover who’s also smart? Figures,” he chuckles as he takes a generous gulp of his whiskey. “Say I come in there one day. Would you assist me in helpin’ me find some books? Maybe some classics? Books that maybe others don’t check out as often?”

   He raises a brow at you, a glint in his beautiful honey eyes as you laugh and play nervously with the bendy straw that sits in your almost untouched drink. “I mean, I would. Seems like you already know your way around though,” you smirk. 

   He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, reckon I do.”     

   A loose curl falls over his eye, a strand that looks so soft to the touch. You almost push it back, so close while your hovering hand sits above your tan thigh, almost pushing the limits into other dangerous territory. 

   You clear your head of the ridiculous notion and push yourself back, watching as he moves the curl away himself. That was a close one. 

   You tap your long nails on the side of your glass and try your luck. “I was surprised to learn you were the owner of this club.”

   He smirks your way and laughs. “Yeah?”

   “You do this often? Pick up pretty girls at work and take them back to the dark hallway?” Your eyes narrow while he just shakes his head and laughs. 

   “No, can’t say that I do. You just caught my attention. I jus’ had to talk to you, at least. You were just so… stunning. Couldn’t pass you up.”

   Oh. 

   Your cheeks burn hot, crimson tinging the skin as you take another large gulp of your alcoholic beverage. You need to calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably like the rest of them, but something deep down tells you he’s not. 

   “How long have you been in the business?” you ask as you swirl the straw around the melting ice cubes. 

   “A few years. My brother, Tommy, joined the business with me. We still do contracting together on the side, but this is my main gig.”

   Contracting? He was a contractor? Fuck, can he get any hotter? 

   “Contractor, huh?” you ask curiously as your eyes light up with interest. 

   “That’s right. I like buildin’ things, makin’ things with my hands. It’s sort of relaxin’ to me. The way I can jus’ put together somethin’, imagine anything I want and jus’ build it from scratch. It’s probably my favorite hobby, honestly.”

   You find yourself hovering over the clean bar top, leaning against your elbow as you find yourself dreamily gazing at him. You gawk at his crooked smile, stare at the indented dimple in his left cheek as you get lost in his words, in his lively expressions. His low voice is so melodious that you think you could listen to him talk about his hobbies all night long. Maybe even over dinner, at his house, curled up in his lap…

   You shake yourself out of your hypnotic daze and smooth your dress out. You shouldn’t get close to anyone. Not after your ex, not after that horrible, horrific…

   “Hey, you good?” Joel asks, stirring you out of your hazy thoughts. 

   “What?” you ask confused as you come back to reality. 

   “You jus’ looked a little lost there for a second. You alright?” His voice is gentle, deep, and his large hand is even warmer as it glides over the top of your thigh, his touch soothing you back down from dark thoughts you shouldn’t be turning to. 

   “Oh, yeah. Sorry. You were saying?”

   He looks at you hesitantly, his eyes flicking over you quickly to assess that you’re really alright, but your small smile reassures him as he continues on. 

   Your eyes flicker over the flashy signs, the pink hue reflecting off the scarlet red ones, giving it just the right mix of a perfect combination. He sees you staring, and his lips curl up into a big grin as he raises his eyebrows. “What’s got your attention, hmm?” he asks as he looks over at the sparkling pink sign you’re staring at. 

   “The signs. There’s pink ones now, not just red…” Your voice catches on a whisper, almost being drowned out by the blaring pop song that booms through the speakers, but he still hears you. 

   “Oh, those. Yeah, some pretty little thing complained that there was too much red. Said I should throw some  pink in there. Stubborn thing, a bit moody, but glad I listened to her. It doesn’t look half bad.” He winks at you, and suddenly your heart is in your throat, pumping and making you gasp as he smirks your way with a knowing look in his eyes. 

   You take your chance to flirt, leaning forward as your fingertips hover over the top of his knee. “Didn’t think you’d listen to me after I was complaining the whole time. Didn’t know I was talking to the owner of the club. You could’ve just kicked me out,” you say with a curt laugh.

   He leans forward just a tad, the tops of his calloused fingers laying gently on the top of your thigh as you gasp in response to the heat of his touch. “Sweetheart, now why on earth would I kick you out? You clearly had an affect on me, otherwise I would’ve kept the signs the way they were. And besides,” he leans forward and places his mouth against the shell of your ear, his hot breath dancing across your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. “I wouldn’t have gotten to make you cum on my thigh if I would’ve done that.”

   Your breath hitches, your body coming to life as you feel the nerve endings light up against his touch, his breath, his smell. Suddenly, you want more, need more. And maybe he’ll give it to you, just maybe…

   “Why’d you come back here?” he whispers in the crest of your ear, his voice falling like drops of water against your heated skin, showering you in a mist of desire. “I don’t think it’s to socialize or find another guy, not even to sit back and grab a drink at the bar.”

   You feel his hand ghost over the edge of your hip, his palm hovering over the small of your back as you fight to keep yourself together. “No,” you hum, voice lilting like a fresh rose as your fingertips dig into the denim of his thigh. 

   His lips slide against your jawline, his whiskey breath fogging your mind as he whispers back to you in a deep, gravelly tone. “So, why’d you come back, angel? You want somethin’ else from me? Want me to give you more pleasure, more ecstasy?” 

   His gruff voice slides through your body, making the inside of your thighs press together as you feel the sticky slick drip against your lace. He hasn’t even gotten his hands on you tonight, and you’re already drowning in him. 

   You grab hold of his button-up, clinging to his silky fabric as you feel his coarse scruff drag against the edge of your cheek. You can smell him, almost taste the whiskey dripping down the back of his throat. And you want to taste it, feel it between your legs. 

   “I… Joel,” you whimper as his other hand trails up your thigh, dragging those thick, calloused fingers up up up until he’s raising the hem of your dress, just enough to drag a low groan from your throat. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he purrs as his lips meet the shell of your ear again. 

   You hold in a moan as his fingertips trace circles over your heated skin, his hand sliding up to skim the inside of the crease of your thigh, eliciting tingles that start low in your stomach. You want it, want him. “Joel,” you whisper, only low enough for him to hear as you cling harder to his button-up.

   “Gotta use your words, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Now, tell me. You want me to take you to the back? Give you more than last time? ‘Cause I’d sure love to taste you, really taste you,” he smirks. 

   “Are you gonna put me on your thigh again?” you ask breathlessly while his lips trace dangerously over the crest of your ear. 

   “No, angel. Not this time. Gonna show you somethin’ else. Gonna put my mouth between those pretty legs of yours,” he chuckles while his eyes darken with danger and temptation. 

   A wave of slick washes over you, and you’re already dripping at the anticipation of having his tongue swallow you whole. 

   “So, that what you want? Want me to show you how truly good I can make you feel?”

   You’re nearly pulling him toward you with how strong your grip on him is as you nod your head up and down like an eager puppy. “Mhm. Please,” you respond with a complacent whine. 

   He laughs and pulls you out of your seat, keeping his fingers entangled with yours as he grabs his glass of whiskey and drags you along. “C’mon then. Let’s go get ya taken care of.”

   He guides you through the dancing crowd, pushing through sweaty bodies as the bass fills your insides, the loud music mixing together with the nerves pulling down your spine as you follow him into the unknown. 

   The glittery dark walls turn into a narrow hallway as couples making out against the crowded walls step aside when they see Joel. They gawk at him and whisper quiet slurs as you pass them by, probably wishing they were you at this very moment. 

   He looks back at you and smirks, his grip on you tightening, the shadows making the dark brown flecks in his eyes look almost black. As black as a panther’s fur, eyes that want to pounce and consume you whole. And that just makes your heart hammer loudly against your chest as you stare back into those dreamy pools of desire.

   He takes you to the last door at the end of the dark hallway, painted crimson red as he twists the lavish golden handle and presses through, leading you in as he quietly closes it behind him and turns the lock to where no one else can get in. You gulp and try to take a slow breath, but the nerves seem to be crushing down on your lungs. You’re typically quite eloquent, but try as you might, you can’t seem to place what it is you’re feeling. Nervous. Excited. Absolutely panicked. You want this but your mind and body seem to be at odds.

   When you turn around, your mouth parts open as you take in the massive room. A large leather couch sits in the middle, a long pool table with red smooth felt coating the top of it sits in the right hand corner. The lights are dim, a lit fireplace sits crackling next to the leather couch, the walls glisten with shimmering black wallpaper, and the feel of the room is homey, warm, private. You can still hear the pounding music and occasional chants of club goers, but it’s mostly quiet in here. The only thing you can hear is the rushing of blood through your eardrums, your heart right along with it. 

   He lingers by the doorframe, adjusting his sleeves as he carefully rolls them up to his elbows, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours. Suddenly you’re a hot mess, fingers twisting against the hem of your blue dress, your eyes blown wide as you feel your chest tighten at the thought of being alone with him. Joel Miller. The club owner, the absolute menace who was sent to break into your closed up boundaries. 

   “Where do you want me?” you ask breathlessly.

   He stalks toward you, a sly smirk on his face as he starts to back you up toward the leather couch. You have no room to go around, no way to say no, your body just moves pliantly at his command as his thick fingers push gently against your hips. 

   “On the couch, sweetheart. Right. Here.” He gently pushes you down as you land in a heap on the plush couch. You scoot back, your legs sliding easily over the black leather as you squeeze your thighs together and dig your fingers into the edge of the new material. 

   You’re suddenly so nervous as sweat pools against the back of your neck, your lips trembling as you watch him take a generous gulp of his amber colored whiskey. You watch the way he moves, his bulging biceps clinging to his button-up, his slicked back curls throwing smoky grey colors under the dim lighting as he turns slowly, ending right between your legs. 

   He slowly bends down, running his calloused fingers languidly over the curve of your thighs. Your body tenses up, fingers digging into the slick material as your breath hitches at the sight of that smug smirk he has pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

   He tries to part your legs, but you hold back, afraid to show him what you look like bare. What if he doesn’t like what he sees, what if he suddenly changes his mind, what if he tells you to leave? Suddenly, you’re overstimulated by all the unknowns, and you can barely stand to look into his dark eyes as your own gazes toward the black polished floors. 

   As if he can sense your blinding fears and see right through your insecurities, his blown out eyes ease up, his eyebrows knitting together as he stares up at you with a look of encouragement. He cups your chin and makes you gaze up, right into the pits of his softening eyes. 

   “Hey,” he says with a gentle voice. “You nervous?”

   You stumble over your words and just nod, letting the gut wrenching feeling slide down your closed up throat. “Mhm,” you nod slowly. 

   His lips curl up into a gentle smile, and it takes the breath out of you as his dimple caves into the middle of his cheek. One hand lingers on the top of your thigh, and the other grazes softly underneath your chin. “You don’t gotta be nervous now, sweetheart. Jus’ relax, breathe.”

   You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, starting to relax every limb in your body as you cautiously release your fingers from the edge of the couch and lay them by the hem of your sparkly dress. 

   “There ya go, angel. Jus’ breathe. Can ya do that for me?” You nod your head, and he chuckles lightly. “Good. Now, wanna tell me what’s got ya all nervous?”

   You try to look down, but he keeps his hand rested underneath your chin. You squirm a little, shuffling your hips against the squeaky leather, but he stills your body underneath him with his large palm. Your eyes shift up to his, and there’s no escaping those soft chocolate eyes that seem to stare straight into the depths of your shaking soul.

   “I just… I haven’t really. I’m not…” Fuck. You can’t even think straight, let alone speak without making a fool of yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe…

   He presses his calloused fingers softly against your jawline and furrows his eyebrows as he assesses your stiff features. “Have you ever had anyone go down on you before?” His words are so gentle, not at all condescending which makes you unclench your jaw just a tad. 

   “I mean, a couple of times, but it wasn’t anything special. Maybe just a few seconds. They didn’t actually make me feel good. I think it was just so they could slide in. It wasn’t for my benefit, guess you could say. So no, I guess I really haven’t,” you mutter as you pout your bottom lip out. 

   His brows knit together in a tight line, his jaw ticking as he looks at you with a soft gaze. His fingertips leave your chin, and you feel like you’ve just lost a clutch on yourself, but his fingertips land softly on your wrist instead. “Well, that’s a real shame. They must be fuckin’ blind to pass up a girl like you. A real fuckin’ shame, but don’t worry, angel, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I can promise you that. You want that?”

   You eagerly nod your head up and down as your words tumble out of your mouth. “Yes, Joel. Please.” Maybe you’re a little too eager because you wrap your fingers firmly around his wrist like you're digging your roots into the tan of skin.  

   He chuckles lightly and smiles up at you, the dark flecks of his eyes seeming to sparkle under the dimly lit lights of the private room. “You gonna relax for me?”

   “Mhm,” you hum out. 

   “Attagirl,” he winks. You nearly choke on your own saliva at the sound of him saying Attagirl. It’s a simple word, but he’s telling you what a good girl you’re being, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower belly. 

   His fingertips start to graze up and down the tops of your thighs, his calloused thumbs dipping down to your inner thighs as he starts to massage the area tenderly. You know what he’s doing, know what he’s capable of doing as he looks up at you with hungry, dark eyes. He wants to devour you, and you sure as hell aren’t going to say no to him. The hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on wants you. And you sure as hell want him, too. 

   “Need a little liquid courage to relax a little, hmm?” he asks as he cocks one eyebrow up, his head turning to the side as he looks at you with curious eyes. 

   “It wouldn’t hurt,” you shrug. 

   “Alright then, angel. Tip your head back jus’ a little. Gonna give ya a taste of my whiskey,” he says with a sultry tone. 

   You do as he says, tipping your head back just an inch as you watch him get up from the corner of your eye. He grabs his glass of amber whiskey, swirling it around as the ice hits the edge of the clear cup, making a clinking noise that sounds a lot like how your insides feel. All tingly and alive with nerves pulling low in your gut. 

   “Tip your head a little more, that’s it,” he approves as he places a hand under your chin and coaxes your lips open with his calloused thumb. “Keep that pretty mouth open now.”

   You watch him tip his own head back, taking a large gulp of his whiskey on the rocks. Your eyes grow wide when you see him leaning over you as his thumb pulls your mouth open wider. He lets the alcohol pool out of his mouth like a running faucet, flowing down through your own mouth as the whiskey and the taste of his saliva mix together while it slides slowly down the back of your throat. 

   “Swallow,” he instructs as he closes your mouth, still hovering over you as he watches you down his taste. You feel the burn simmer through your stomach, taste him on the tip of your tongue as his woodsy cologne sends you into a hazy fog where all you can see is him as his dark eyes begin to grow black. 

   “Good girl,” he praises. Your mouth gawks open as he sinks back down to the floor, situating himself between the center of your legs as he slowly begins to part them. 

   He clicks his tongue as he sees your body sewn to the back of the couch. “Now, angel, can’t reach ya all the way back there. C’mere.” 

   He pulls you to the edge of the leather couch, the palms of his calloused hands latching onto the backs of your thighs. And then he’s parting them, running his fingers nice and slow up the inside of your thighs until he’s hiking the bottom of your dress up over your hips.

   You can’t breathe, your voice being held back by the drowned out whines and moans you’re already holding back. You know you’re going to fall apart as soon as his large tongue meets your center, and he’s going to devour you, lick you clean till you have nothing left to give because you just have this feeling that he’ll work you and work you and work you till you’re fully gone. And it nearly drowns out the pulsing energy flowing through your ears. 

   He drags his lips against your skin, sending trails of kisses up the insides of your thighs as you suck in a breath from the tingling sensations he’s sending straight to your core. He drags his lips higher, lifting your skirt flush over your thighs as he pulls you closer to him while his breath blows gently over your clothed core.

   “Look at you, already soakin’ for me,” he purrs as he drags the tip of his curved nose against your clothed folds. Fuck. You hold in a whine, bucking your hips forward as you silently beg him to keep going. 

   He chuckles out at your response, his dark eyes smoldering as he takes the tip of his thumb and starts to slowly caress your soaked folds. He gauges your reaction, your wide eyes and panting mouth as he starts to circle your clit slowly through the dripping lace. 

   “Joellll,” you whine out, your manicured nails digging into the leather of the couch. 

   “Yeah? Does it feel good,” he teases as he presses harder against your buzzing bundle of nerves. 

   “Mhm, need more. Need you to…”

   “Shhh. I’ve got ya, angel. Jus’ gettin’ ya nice and worked up. Want you drippin’ for me. Want this pretty pussy messy and sticky so I can drink you down like a bottle of sweet whiskey,” he purrs with mischief written all over those syrupy brown eyes. 

   Before you can speak, he takes his tongue and runs it slowly over your clothed core, soaking your ruined lace as you stifle out a moan and buck your hips forward. “Joel, please,” you beg as your heels dig into the surface of the dark floor. 

   “That’s what I thought,” he teases as his dark eyes shift up toward you. “Now, let’s get these off ya, shall we?” He pulls your lacy panties down your legs and over your high heeled stilettos, bunching up the ruined material and shoving them deep into the pocket of his jeans. 

   He spreads you wide, your pussy on full display as he sits back on his heels and gawks at you, sliding his palm over his silvery scruff as his eyes blow out wide. He groans, long and deep as he takes in the sight of your dripping core. You can barely breathe as you watch him take you in nice and slow, his eyes alight with fire you want to dip your fingertips into. 

   “Goddamn. You’re fuckin’ perfect, angel. Look at that pretty pink pussy. Drippin’ and soppin’ jus’ for me, ain’t that right?” He smirks, eyes blowing out into black pits as he leans back down and starts spreading your thighs, his meaty hands holding you down while his cool breath blows over your sensitive center. 

   You squirm underneath him, feeling sweat pool beneath your long locks as you watch him become mesmerized with your glistening, sticky core. “Joel,” you whisper, barely making a sound as you try to hold yourself back from crushing his face to your center. 

   “Mmm, yeah. You’re such a messy girl, think I need to clean you up,” he purrs as his thumb lightly traces over your sticky folds. 

   “Please,”you beg as you groan out with need. “Your mouth, Joel. I need it,” you whine.

   “Yeah, ya do,” he smirks. The next thing you know, he’s leaning down and licking a thick, clean stripe all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your curls above your glistening mound. You moan, body writhing beneath him as he takes his meaty hands and holds your hips still. 

   “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Jus’ hold on. Let me take care of this pretty pussy.”

   He dives back in, his thick fingers spreading your folds wide as he devours you whole. His tongue languidly slides up and down, collecting drops of slick as he works you nice and slow. Your hips cant up every time his large tongue glides over your buzzing mound, feeling the electric zaps of lightning shooting down your spine when he takes his time and drowns himself in your messy pussy. 

   He works and works and works you over, drawing meticulous circles around your puffy clit while your eyes roll back, and you toss your head back in full elation. You can feel the energy coursing through your body, feel that aching desire being fed as he feeds on you, flicking his tongue up and down ravenously until you swear you see stars in your vision. 

   You tangle your fingers into his greying locks, hear him groan under your hold as you fight to keep a grip on yourself. You’re so close to spilling, so close to elated bliss as your body hums beneath your skin. 

   “Eyes on me, angel. Wanna see those beautiful eyes. Watch me, wanna see you fall apart against my tongue,” he purrs as he licks another long stripe up the center of your folds.

   When you snap your eyes open, they go wide as you look at the hungry beast of a man beneath you. He looks completely wrecked, black blown eyes searing into your gaze, his beard dripping in your glistening arousal, his rough tongue working your aching bundle of nerves while his large hands hold your thighs down, making sure you do cum beneath his tongue. 

   You’re a panting mess, high pitched moans drowning out the blaring music from the other side of the club while you feel yourself start to break. Another wave of slick hits his tongue, and you’re fighting everything inside you to hold on just a little longer.

   “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Wanna see you, wanna taste you. C’mon now, give it to me,” he growls. He pulls your puffy clit into his mouth and sucks, firing off every single nerve ending in your body until you can’t hold on anymore. You’re gone. 

   “Joel - fuck,” you moan as you feel the tingling sensations run flush down your spine, igniting fireworks in your mind that make you dizzy, and then you’re spilling yourself all over him. Slick builds on his tongue, and he groans while he laps up every bit of it while he growls good girl through the pleasurable licks. He keeps you there till there’s not a hint of slick left between your thighs, he eats you up like a ravenous dog that’s starving for you. 

   When he’s finished, he looks up and smirks at you with a mischievous smile. “How was that, angel? Did I make you feel good?”

   You nod your head up and down slowly. “So good. I’ve never felt anything quite like that,” you pant out as he chuckles up at you. 

   “Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks.

   “What?” you ask with wide eyes. Not done with you yet? 

   “Oh no, angel. That was one orgasm. You’re gonna give me another one.”

   “Another one? But I…”

   “Know you have more in you, sweetheart. Let me get you there, let me make you lose control.”

   He slides you forward, holding your hip down with one of his meaty hands while his other starts to play with your sensitive mound. “I can make you cum in so many ways. This time I’ll take you through with my fingers, know exactly where to get ya,” he smirks, his blown out eyes looking like black pits of desire, a pit you’ll gladly follow him into. 

   You pant out in a needy whine, watching him drag his middle and ring fingers down your folds, and then shoving them deep into your dripping hole. “Oh,” you moan as he bends his fingers and reaches that spongy, soft spot that makes slick collect on his drenched knuckles. 

   “Yeah? Feel good?” he asks with a smug smirk on that handsome face, your release still sticking through his greying threads throughout his beard. The sight of it makes you drip more for him, panting out a moan when you respond.

   “Mhm, Joel. Feels - so good,” you murmur as you dig your nails into the shoulder of his crimson shirt. 

   “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear,” he responds while licking his lower lip seductively. 

   He pushes the back of his thumb into your buzzing clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles while his other fingers pump in and out of you, drawing wet, squelching noises out of you that just seem to turn him on even more. 

   “C’mon, angel. Tell me how good I’m makin’ ya feel,” he purrs as he continues pulverizing your needy pussy. 

   “So fucking good. Oh my god, Joel,” you whine as he bathes you in pure ecstasy, coating you in desires you didn’t even know you had in you. All you know is you want more, need more of him. 

   “Mmm, that’s good, angel. Wanna make you cum again,” he growls as his dark, blown out eyes tear into your whimpering soul. 

   “Please, Joel. Feels so good. Your fingers, your… fuck,” you whine as he ruts up into you, pushing on that sweet, spongy area that makes slick drip down his huge knuckles. 

   He chuckles, speeding up his meticulous circles of your clit and thrusting his fingers deep inside your messy hole. The wet noises of his calloused fingers brushing up into you are sinful, filling you to the brim until you can barely hold yourself back. You’re about to cum again, but this time feels much different than the last. 

   “C’mon now, messy girl. Spill for me, soak me,” he growls as his fingers move faster in and out of you, continuously tormenting you with how fucking good you feel beneath his touch. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna…”

   “Give it to me,” he demands with the bite of his snarl and blown out black pupils. 

   One more hit to your spongy walls and he’s knocking the orgasm out of you. His thumb stays clenched down on your throbbing clit, and your orgasm washes through you like a raging hurricane that destroys whole cities with its powerful riptides. You spill yourself, experiencing a new sensation that almost overpowers you as it takes you on the ride of your life. You start squirting, your elated moans filling the emptiness of the room as you release hot, damp slick all over his crimson button-up. 

   “Oh fuck yeah, angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Goddamn,” he praises as his fingers slowly massage your insides, working out your mind blowing orgasm as you fight to keep yourself upright. 

   The arousal glistens on his salt-and-pepper scruff, slick coating the front of his soft material, while he’s knuckles deep into your dripping pussy as you take in just how fucked out he looks. He looks so hot with his messy curls falling down into his blown out eyes, his tongue licking his bottom lip seductively while he works you nice and slow with those meticulous fingers of his. He’s a work of art, a perfect masterpiece that you don’t want to stop looking at. He’s everything you really ever wanted in a man. And he looks so wrecked. 

   His eyes narrow playfully, black pits that swallow you whole as he hooks your tired legs over his broad shoulders and slides you to the very edge of the damp leather couch. His breath blows over your sensitive center, and you can barely tolerate anymore. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling like you have nothing else to give. 

   “S’okay, angel. One more, give me one more,” he coaxes as he melts his mouth down to your over sensitive core. 

   You have no room to speak, nowhere to go as he melds his tongue against your folds, dipping inside you, stroking languid licks against your aching clit that’s pulsing and so sensitive. He takes you past the edge, past all your boundaries as you dig your fingers into his mop of messy curls. 

   “Joel, it’s too much. I can’t cum again. I can’t…” you whine as he pops his mouth off your puffy clit. 

   “You can, angel. One more. Give me one more,” he purrs as you nod your head and hold in a whine. He takes his tongue and licks a thick strip all the way up your core, collecting slick against his tongue while he works up another building orgasm that you didn’t know you had left in you. 

   His fingers curl into you, reaching your spongy walls as his tongue pulls your drenched clit into his warm mouth. He sucks and drools over you, mixing his own saliva into your slick clit as he sucks and slurps on your aching core. 

   “Joel, I think I’m about to…”

   “That’s it, angel. One more time, let me hear those pretty moans. Say my name. Say it,” he slurs as he pushes his nose into the curls above your mound and licks feverishly against your puffy clit. 

   “Ahhh, Joellll,” you moan as you feel your slick wash through you, coating his tongue as he generously laps you up, panting between licks as he holds your hips down to lavish in your white hot release. 

   Your breath comes in waves, leaning your head back into the cushion of the leather couch as you watch him languidly clean all the slick from your sore, over sensitive pussy. 

   When he’s finished cleaning you off, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks up at you with that devilish, handsome grin you burn into the back of your buzzing brain. He pulls the skirt of your dress down and pushes himself up, collapsing into the spot next to you on the plushy couch. 

   You both sigh, breathing heavily as he looks over at you and smiles, his blown out eyes relaxing into honey glazed eyes that burn holes through your vision. He’s so pretty when he smiles, eyes alight and his messy curls falling into his sweaty forehead. He looks fucking wrecked, but he looks so good like that. You wonder what he’d look like with you between his large legs…

   “How was that, hmm? Did I exceed your expectations?” he smirks as he lets his head fall back into the couch, glowing eyes staring right through you. 

   You smile, taking a deep breath as you let your aching muscles relax. “That was the best three orgasms of my life. You’re pretty… amazing,” you beam as you see the hint of a sparkle in those thick pools of honey. 

   “Glad I could make ya feel good, angel. You deserve it, and I’m so happy that I could be of some assistance,” he chuckles as his calloused fingers slowly trail up and down your thigh, a gentle rhythm that puts you at ease. 

   Suddenly, you feel like you should move, get up from this couch full of comfort. You want to make him feel good. You should, after he coaxed three insane orgasms out of you, you feel as if you owe him. And you want to, need to give him the same. So you will. Right now. 

   You slowly slide from the couch, ending on your knees as you crawl between his legs, laying your hands flat on his jeans while your fingertips dig into the meat of his thighs. You want to taste him just like he tasted you. 

   “What are you doin’ down there, angel, hmm?” he asks curiously with one eyebrow raised high on his forehead. 

   You brush your fingertips higher, hands now resting on his leather belt. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You smirk up at him and watch his eyes darken with desire. 

   He runs his tongue smoothly over his bottom teeth and gives you a crooked half grin that makes you weak in the knees. “Thought you didn’t like goin’ down on guys, sweetheart. Change your mind?” His jaw ticks, and he looks at you as if he’s teasing you in the best possible way. 

   You smile sweetly up at him and say, “Well, you’re not just any guy,” you laugh as you roll your eyes. “You’re not them, you gave me pleasure first, indescribable bliss. So let me repay the favor. I want to do this. You didn’t ask, I just want to give you exactly what you gave me.”

   He leans forward, narrowing his dark eyes as he smirks devilishly your way, licking his lower lip as he gazes hungrily into your eyes. “Think you can handle it?”

   Your breath hitches, watching the way he’s teasing you, dark eyes alight with mischief written in those flecks of black charcoal. If he thinks that’s turning you on again then he’s absolutely right. You’re already so wet again, slick pooling in between your sticky thighs. 

   You lean forward and undo his leather belt as you toss it to the floor in a heap, smirking smugly up at him. “Oh, I can handle it.”

   He cocks a thick eyebrow up and relaxes into the slick couch, spreading his legs as he nods down to his jeans. “Alright then, sweetheart. Let’s see what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

   You giggle silently and smile up at him, leisurely unzipping his zipper and tugging down his denim jeans, along with his black boxers. When his erect cock springs free, you gawk over how absolutely massive he is. His long, thick cock is leaking precum, the swollen red tip of him begging to be touched. He’s so fucking big that you can barely form a coherent sentence, he’s absolutely sensational. 

   “What’s the matter, angel?” he teases as he cocks his head to the side, a sarcastic smile tugging at his plush lips. “Think you can still handle it?”

   You watch him carefully, narrowing your eyes as you smirk up at him. He’s challenging you, coaxing you to take a hold of him. He doesn't know yet that you can’t pass up a challenge, especially when it comes to him. You may be timid most of the time, but this time you need to show him that you can handle him. 

   You lean forward, inching your hand over his muscular thigh until you’re ghosting over his weeping cock. “Oh, I can handle it. Watch me,” you smirk. 

   He lifts his brows like he’s trying to figure you out, like he wants to crawl inside your scrambled mind until he finds exactly what he wants to know. But somehow he knows you can handle it, so he leans back into the leather and nods his head. “Go on, then. Handle it,” he challenges. 

   You lick your glossy lips seductively as you reach your hand around the girth of his thick cock, slowly spreading the building precum up and down his shaft as you indulge in the wet sounds your hands are making working up and down him. He groans, shifting his hips forward as he relaxes his back against the leather of the couch.

   Keeping your eyes on him, you lean down and slowly lick up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, languidly taking your time and ending at the tip as you swirl your tongue in slow circles over his swollen red head.

   “Christ,” he groans, his dark pits turning carnal as he watches you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out as you start to bob your head up and down slowly, one hand at the base working the bottom of his shaft while your spit mixes with his precum. 

   You feel him squirm underneath you, his cock spasming in your mouth as you take him deeper, feeling your drool coat his slick cock as you suck him and tease him with your tongue, your hand, the back of your throat. He tastes so good, the salty bitterness sliding down your throat as you drink him down like he’s a fresh glass of sweet lemonade on a hot summer day in Austin.

   You take a breather, pulling off of him as you wrap your hand around his large length and start spreading your drool over him, making him messy as you smile sweetly up at him.

   He looks at you with cloudy eyes, looking absolutely fucked out as he takes you in. Messy lips, lip gloss smeared over his slick cock, a bead of drool connecting from his weeping tip to your lower lip, cheeks flushed pink as you look up at him with glossy eyes. He thinks you’re fucking perfect, a vision only the gods should see. And he feels as if he’s won the lottery because you’re a goddamn treasure. 

   “Fuck, sweetheart. Didn’t know you were so good with that pretty mouth of yours. Not too shy now, are ya?” he chuckles as he traces your bottom lip, catching the strand of drool that connects you to him like an intricate spider web spun around his swollen cock. 

   “Guess not,” you say as you shake your head. The way he’s looking at you seems intimate, even through his big, blown out eyes, it’s like he’s fawning over you, the position you’re in, between his knees, hand wrapped around his shaft, drool pooling in your mouth. It’s too much, too affectionate, you’re suddenly a blushing mess. 

   “Well, go on, angel. Keep goin’. Bein’ such a good girl with that pretty mouth, don’t stop on my account,” he chuckles, sliding his tongue menacingly over his bottom teeth as he winks at you. 

   You feel crimson fill your cheeks as you get back to work. You take him back in your mouth, slowly sliding down, down, down until you’re nearly choking on him. You make a muffled, gagging sound around him, and he tenses under you, groaning your name as he takes a hand and wraps it around your hair, holding it out of the way as you devour him. 

   “Attagirl, that’s it,” he hisses through his teeth when you go back down on him, your tongue twirling around his tip after you slide up and down the shaft of him, ending at his balls while you suck and wet them with your drool and spit. 

   “Goddamn,” he moans, cupping the back of your neck while your hair is wrapped firmly around his hand. When you come back up to the red, angry tip, he rasps out. “Think you can take me deeper, sweetheart?”

   Your heart speeds up, pulling itself into your throat as you swallow back any hesitation. He’s so big, it’ll be hard, but you’ll try. As long as he can guide you, you think you can do it. 

   You slowly nod your head up and down, taking a nice, deep breath while you still have the chance. “Mhm, yeah. I can try,” you pant out as he smiles warmly down at you. 

   “Alright, angel. Gonna guide you, okay? Jus’ wrap your hand around my wrist if it gets too much. Don’t wanna take you past your limits,” he chuckles, placing his large hand back where it was, keeping your hair wrapped around his calloused fingers. 

   You open your mouth wide, taking him back in your mouth while he slowly guides you down against him. You hollow your cheeks, opening your throat as he takes you down down down until your nose is grazing against the coarse, dark hair at the base of him. When you come back up again, breathing fresh air through your nose, he asks if you’re okay. When you nod your head yes, he smirks and takes you back down. 

   He speeds up his movements, guiding you back and forth down on his messy cock as he starts to fuck up into your mouth. The pacing is swift, erratic, desperate as he drives your mouth down on him over and over again. You’re so fucking full of him that obscene, squelching noises are coming out of your throat while you mouth fuck him again and again and again. You’re drowning in your own saliva, the drool pooling out of your throat and onto his large length while you gag and choke on his massive cock. 

   You can’t hear the thumping music out on the dance floor anymore, can only hear his stifled moans and the throat fucking noises reverberate across the dimly lit private room. Your eyes water, mascara running down your eyes while his hand tightens and pulls firmly on your hair, your own moans filling the space while you slip one hand under your dress while the other grips the end of his shirt. 

   You circle your aching clit, feeling pleasure run through your body while he ruts his hips into your mouth and chokes on another heated moan. “Look at you, angel. Already soakin’ again, yeah? Chokin’ on this fat cock made you wet again, hmm?” he teases as he lifts your mouth up and watches the drool pool from your tired mouth. 

   “Mhm, it did,” you nod as the breath leaves your body, his salty taste still lingering in the back of your throat while your hand goes back to slowly working him up and down. 

   You moan out in pleasure, feeling the precipice of your orgasm about to wash over you as he watches with wrecked black eyes. “Gonna cum again, angel?”

   “Ye- yeah,” you pant as you feel the white hot sensation start to take over, feeling your muscles collapse beneath your knees as he places a sturdy hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over. “Joelllll,” you scream as he works you through your orgasm.

   “Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart. Such a good girl spillin’ for me again. There ya go, what an angel,” he purrs as you fight to keep your eyes open, feeling the aftershocks of a fourth orgasm in just under an hour. You’ve never cum this many times, but also you’ve never met a man like Joel. A pure menace that keeps you on your toes. 

   He keeps you upright while you lean into his meaty thighs, one hand languidly stroking him up and down while the slick and drool collects in your palm. “Joel,” you whine with a pathetic cry that whimpers from your throat. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Tell me what you want,” he coaxes, his thick fingers massaging the back of your shoulders gently. 

   “Want to… want to finish you off. Wanna make you cum,” you groan out. 

   He looks down at you, gentle brown eyes gazing through you as a light chuckle comes from his lips. “You seem pretty tired, darlin’. You sure you can…”

   “Yes,” you snap, eyes heating into his like a swirling fire. “Let me finish you off. Gag me, Joel. Fuck my mouth, please,” you beg.

   He chuckles out, eyes blowing back out as he smirks your way. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t ya? Alright, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll jus’ give ya what you want.”

   He grabs a fistful of your hair, holding you in place as he brings his weeping cock up to your mouth and thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat while you gag and swallow him whole, his massive cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. You sit there and take it, on your knees while your hands dig into the meat of his thighs. 

   His thrusts speed up, snapping his hips into the air as he grunts and swallows your name on elated moans. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, yeah. Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Goddamn,” he grunts as he thrusts harder into the back of your throat. 

   He’s so close, you can feel it by the winded breaths and breathy moans, his body coming to life every time he ruts up into you. It’s like he’s everywhere all at once, his salty cum sliding down your hot throat as you feel him about to burst. 

   “Fuck, I’m not gonna last any longer, angel. I’m gonna… gonna cum,” he huffs as he tightens his fist through your messy curls. You inhale his musk, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you while he mouth fucks you nice and hard. 

   Just when you feel like you’re about to run out of breath, he thrusts deep inside your throat, your nose gliding against the base of his coarse hairs when you feel his cock spasm around the back of your throat. Before you know it, hot ropes of white cum are filling you, shooting down your closed up throat as you drink his salty release down. 

   “Christ,” he groans as he releases the last of his cum, filling you nice and full with the white spurts of him. 

   He releases his grip in your hair, pushing you back as he slowly slides out of your drool encased throat. When you finally take a breather, you cough a few times, choking on nothing until you’re panting out in raspy breaths. 

   You see him tuck himself back into his boxers, sliding his jeans up his hips as he zips himself back up and reaches down, cupping your chin as he takes a good look at the absolute wreck he made you. 

   “Look at you,” he laughs, gazing into your tear soaked eyes while his thumb gently grazes against your drool covered mouth, lip gloss covering half your chin. “Really did a number on ya, huh?” he teases. 

   “Looks like it,” you smile. 

   He smiles back, and it’s so warm that you have to stop and take a long, deep breath. He’s positively radiating right now, and it makes something tug hard inside your core. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks. 

   He unbuttons the red collared button-up quickly, throwing his pristine white t-shirt over his head. And you can’t help but gawk at his tanned, glowing skin and the ripped muscles he has against his broad chest. He’s fucking gorgeous, he almost doesn’t even look real. 

   “C’mere,” he chuckles as he takes the soft t-shirt and cleans you off, running the cotton material against your messy mouth, your rainy eyes, your clumpy mascara, your sweat covered forehead. He’s so gentle with his large hands, almost delicate as he traces every inch of your face until you’re all cleaned up. You can’t help but stare at him the entire time he takes care of you. You’ve never had this, never known this. 

   Why was he doing this for you? Surely he’d just leave you to clean up after yourself, but he doesn’t. He does it for you. 

   “There ya go, all better,” he smiles gently, his caramel eyes a lighter brown as he stares back at you, something warm and admirable in his flecked starry eyes. It’s nothing like you’ve seen before. It’s new, uncharted territory. “Feel better?”

   “Yeah,” you say in a daze, still on your sore knees while you stare up at him, eyelashes batting slowly. 

   “Good, that’s good,” he nods slowly, thumb still trailing along your jawline smoothly. It’s like you’re in a fog, your mind racing at whatever this is. He’s a menace, but he’s also so, so… caring. You almost can’t say the word. 

   He throws on his silky shirt again, butting the small buttons as he covers his tanned, hairy chest. You almost mourn the loss of his sweaty, glistening chest. 

   “What are you still doin’ on the floor?” he laughs as he scoots over to the edge of the couch, leaving the left side open for you. 

   “Oh, I don’t know. Guess I got stuck,” you giggle as you shake your head, but honestly you’re just so tired, and you can’t stop looking at his mess of curls and honey colored eyes that you want to slip into. 

   “Well, c’mon now. Let’s get you up. C’mere.” He lifts you up off the hard floor, turning you around to where you’re facing the opposite way. He leans back into the armrest of the chair, parting his legs as he scoops you up into his lap and pulls his arms around your waist while one hand gently slides up and down your bare right arm, his fingertips trailing against smooth skin. 

   Your body is so confused, muscles tensing with every stroke of his thumb. You shouldn’t stiffen up, shouldn’t shy away from him because he feels so warm, but yet your body doesn’t even know what’s happening. Why is he being so soft, so gentle? Your mind must be playing tricks on you. This isn’t normal. At least not normal for you…

   Joel immediately notices your tight, strained muscles and carefully grips your shoulder. “Hey, why are you so tense? Hmm?” he asks with knit together brows, looking down at you with concern lathered all in those syrupy eyes. 

   You shrug, giving him your best perplexed look at you flutter your long lashes up at him. “I don’t know, guess I’m just known to be a little tense,” you whisper out, your eyes still staring up into those pools of warmth. 

   He smiles at you, chuckling out as he rubs the back of your neck, his thick fingers feeling like magic as they gradually dance over your smooth skin. “Relax,” he coaxes as he slides you up further on his lap, resting one arm lazily over your hip and the other drawing gentle circles in the crease of your arm. 

   Relax. The word slips through you, pulling every tense muscle out of its binds, releasing you slowly from any worries or anxiety in your buzzing mind. You’re here with Joel, you can relax. You don’t have to always go into fight or flight mode after being physical. This is a safe space. He is a safe space. 

   You nuzzle into the middle of his chest, resting your hand on the warm button-up as your hand brushes right over his beating heart. You can feel it beat a million miles an hour, the galloping hooves pumping in his veins. You also feel your own heart, steady and pacing wildly, and they start to mix together slowly. 

   Thump, thump, thump. It’s like your beats almost match his. A swift race of only two bodies colliding into the other, both running toward the other until you mesh into one. Two falling stars predestined to fall together. Binary stars.

   You nestle your cheek into the cotton of his button-up, your hand slipping under his shirt as you feel hot, sticky skin and the flex of strong muscles. He flexes his arm across your back and languidly strokes up and down your spine, calming you of any tension and putting your tired muscles at rest. 

   He smells so good, woodsy pine scents sticking to his flannel, sweet whiskey collecting on his tongue, and maybe the hint of some kind of tobacco in his hair from the wild crowd outside this room’s door. You get so lost in his scent that you just now realize he’s stroking the back of your head, fingers combing through your locks of hair as he caresses your lower back with his other hand. 

   You close your eyes, breathing him deep as you relax into his soothing touch, feeling every brush of his calloused fingertips as he rubs the back of your head gently. Your eyes flash open when you realize just what this is. Aftercare. 

   Aftercare? Joel was giving you… aftercare? But why? No one had ever given you that. Why would he want to give you that? 

   He rips you out of your distant thoughts, his deep, gravelly voice blowing gently through your ear. “You okay?” he asks as he trails his index finger up and down your wrist. You wish he’d never stop. 

   “Mhm,” you hum as you nuzzle into his arm, wrapping yourself around it as you hear him chuckle lightly above you while his head comes to rest on the top of your head. 

   “You thirsty?”

   “Yeah, actually,” you murmur against the cotton material rubbing softly against your cheek. 

   “Alright, let me jus’ go grab some water for you, sweetheart.” He shifts his weight carefully, sliding out from underneath you as he positions you against the soft cushion of the couch. “You gonna be alright if I’m gone for a few minutes?”

   You flick your eyes up to his and nod sleepily. “Mhm.”

   “Okay, angel. Be right back.” 

   Before he goes, he softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand and then makes his way toward the door. He tugs it open, allowing the flow of carrying music to enter the room until he closes it gently, making the loud music suddenly go silent. 

   You breathe out a sigh, relaxing into the black leather as you place your fingers against the seat of the cushion. You still smell him, that whiskey and woodsy scent you could get drunk off. It engulfs you, makes you drunk with need. And then you feel that low tug when you think of those smoldering dark eyes and that lazy, crooked smile that seems to send your heart into a full on race. 

   You’re getting attached to him. You shouldn’t, you don’t need another shattered heart. But maybe Joel would be different, he is different. So maybe you need to let your concrete walls down again. Maybe for him you would…

   You close your eyes, concentrate on soothing the growing ache in between your legs, breathing in his cologne that’s left lathered in the leather on the couch. It’s soothing, almost like a bedtime melody that can hum you to sleep. You’re so close to fading off, drifting into a calm sleep until you hear the rustling noise of a door being opened and the sound of party goers float through the dimly lit room. 

   Once you push yourself to a sitting position, Joel joins you next to you on the couch, skimming his denim jeans against your bare leg. “Sorry I took so long. Thought you might be hungry, too.”

   Before you can ask what he means, he brings a basket of golden chicken fingers around his side and hands it to you, while his big brown gaze smiles back at you. Your mouth drops open, and you gawk at him. Chicken? He remembered what you said.

   Blinking once, twice, three times in shock, you finally reach out and grab the red basket while your fingertips brush against his. “Chicken fingers? I didn’t think you had any food here? I thought you said…”

   He laughs and places his hand on your thigh softly. “Well, if I remember correctly, some random girl just waltzed in here last weekend and started complaining ‘bout there not bein’ any food. Specifically chicken.” 

   He raises his brows and smirks your way, continuing his conversation. “She got me thinkin’ maybe I could use a private menu, somethin’ not open to the public jus’ yet. Maybe she wants to try it out first, hmm?”

   You narrow your eyes playfully, grabbing a piece of a fried chicken finger and breaking off half. “Yeah? Maybe she does want to try,” you say flirtatiously. When you take a bite of the delicious goodness, you can’t help but groan at the taste of it. “Holy shit, this is really good,” you reply with a little bounce in your seat. 

   He chuckles and smiles, grabbing the other half from your hand and bites into it. “Yeah? That good?” he laughs as he folds himself back into the cushion of the couch. 

   “Yeah,” you reply with a smile wide on your face. 

   He changed the signs for you, made chicken for you, made you feel pleasure like you’ve never known before in your life, gave you aftercare. Joel was… something out of a dream. So charming, handsome, dominant but yet so soft. You really needed to be careful with this one. 

   The red embers in the fire crackle in the corner while you and Joel talk about books, hobbies, music, your likes and dislikes. And it’s so easy as you fall back into laughter with him, flirting and smiling to each other while the both of you sip on iced waters and finish off the crispy chicken. 

   “Why’d you do it?” you ask quietly, after the chicken is finished off and you sit with your legs sprawled across his lap, his calloused fingers running slowly up and down your smooth skin.

   “Do what?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as those pools of honey flood your mind. 

   “The pink signs, the chicken, and whatever else you changed that I didn’t notice.”

   He looks at you a minute, his honey eyes glazing over yours while his greying scruff catches the dimly lit lighting of the glowing room. And it looks like he’s contemplating if he wants to say anything or not. He slightly shrugs and smiles over at you. “Guess it jus’ took a special girl to open my eyes.”

   “Oh,” you gulp. 

   Special girl? He thinks you’re special? Oh. 

   His eyes never leave yours, those smoldering brown eyes you can’t get enough of. And you’re afraid you’re already falling hard. 

   You nod to his pocket that he stuffed your panties in and raise an eyebrow at him. “You gonna give me those back, Mr. Club Owner?” you tease as he smirks over at you with a devilish glint to his dark eyes. 

   “I don’t think so, angel. Think I might jus’ keep ‘em. Besides, they look better off you,” he winks as your cheeks flush red. 

   You shake your head and laugh. “You’re a menace, Joel. You know that?”

   He throws his head back and chuckles loudly as his laugh carries around the large room. You love it, the sound of his deep, infectious laugh. You’re in big trouble, and you know that now. But there’s no going back now, it’s too late for that. He’s already had a taste of you, and you want more.

Tags: @pedroswife69 @littlevenicebitch69 @laramari71 @laramc-02 @yxtkiwiyxt

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[trikaranos]

TRIKARANOS CHAPTER II: THRESHOLD (part 2)

TRIKARANOS is a comic about Crassus until it isn't. Intended for an adult audience.

lmao it was way longer than I planned for it to be between uploads. life! my laptop stopped working, I had bills to pay, jobs to work to pay those bills. etc. well! at long last! and hopefully it won't be so long before I can post the next part hah a

⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read! at some point in the future I plan on setting up a patreon to support my ability to make comics, like this one!

⭐ There is no set update schedule (alas. chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them. sometimes a page involves drawing stairs and that takes forever.)

⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)

PREVIOUS UPDATE | START HERE | ToC (coming soon!)

misc talking under the cut

Crassus himself, being very young, escaped the immediate peril, but perceiving that he was surrounded on all sides by the huntsmen of the tyrants, he took with him three friends and ten servants and fled with exceeding speed into Spain, where he had been before, while his father was praetor there, and had made friends. But finding all men filled with fear and trembling at the cruelty of Marius as though he were close upon them, he had not the courage to present himself to any one. Instead, he plunged into some fields along the sea-shore belonging to Vibius Paciacus. In these there was a spacious cave, where he hid himself.

Plutarch, Crassus 4

CAVE ARC CAVE ARC CAVE ARC. INTO THE CAVE YOU GOOOOO to enter the cave you must go through the mouth. doors are mouths, caves are mouths, rome is a mouth and a stomach.

anyway. romans and their brothers. oof. there's a lot to unpack there, and we're for sure going to get into it later.