#i feel like it could have been done better okay

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ

ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ

pairing: frat boy! san x fem! reader feat. yungi

genre: frat au, smut

summary: san and his boys are more than grateful when you help them with their newest ‘feature film.’

w.c: 3k

warnings: they’re making porn okay, nasty mean dom! san, subby aloof! reader, san knowingly takes advantage of reader’s romantic feelings for him…. (bro’s the king of douchebags), manipulation/corruption, brief implied mxm bc i love fruity frat boys <3, praise/false praise, name calling/degradation, major voyeurism/exhibitionism kink, mind break ig?, double penetration in one hole, oral (giving), brief hair pulling, throat-fucking, tit fucking, facial, rough sex, bulge kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, gang bang !!, it’s all unprotected btw, multiple orgasms, creampies <33

a/n: this is so fucking insane you guys….like idk why frat aus have me in such a chokehold but here we are🧍🏻‍♀️also this is totally random (and essential) info but san’s signature frat party look would be a ‘don’t hate me it turns me on’ shirt and a backwards red cap hwjhw anyways happy reading~ and please lemme know if you liked it uwu

p.s: we’re at 6.5k followers HELLO???? that’s insane 🫣 thank you so very much!!!

song rec: i like the way you kiss me - artemas (✨ male manipulation: the song ✨)

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Smile for the camera, pretty girl,” San, the frat boy you’ve been in love with for ages, encouraged you from behind the lens of the camcorder he was holding, his smooth baritone voice like saccharine, artificial, yet sweet enough to keep you coming back for another taste. It was when you offered him a small, shy smile through the camera lense, despite the shamelessness of your current position, that he knew he had struck gold. 

San was filming one of the first of many future encounters you would be having on the expansive black leather couch inside their crowded frat den. You were stuffed to the absolute brim by two of his closest colleagues, Yunho and Mingi, who always refused to participate unless they were working together as a duo. 

“Stop looking at me like that, dude,” Mingi huffed up at Yunho from below the both of you, his shoulders and back routinely getting stuck to the couch with sweat. 

“Like what?” Yunho scoffed back, leaning further down onto your body to get closer to Mingi, essentially folding you in half, his hands closing around your ankles.

“Like you wanna kiss me. You’re gonna make me soft.” Mingi grimaced, pushing Yunho’s hands out of the way to hold onto your ankles instead, driving himself into you like a well oiled machine. He was throbbing nonstop, but there was absolutely no proof that it was because of his friend’s heavy cock rubbing along his inside the cunt they were sharing. 

You could feel Yunho’s breath hit your shoulder when he laughed. “Skill issue,” Yunho simply replied, delighted when Mingi bucked up into you even harder, encouraging him to do the same. 

Clearly, there was something vaguely homoerotic going on there, but it wasn’t San’s business, and he definitely had better things to focus on — you, his newest pupil. He watched you with dollar signs in his bright brown eyes and the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue, unable to keep himself from licking repeatedly at his chapped lips, especially now that the innocent classmate he had recently taken a liking to had no problem taking two cocks at once inside her puffy, used cunt, while he, his bros, and his trusty camcorder had a front row seat to her mutually beneficial destruction.  

“Look at you, so flexible…Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Y/N?” San teased, lowering the camera down until his sharp feline eyes were visible.

“N-no, I swear!” you squeaked out, the growing embarrassment you felt only spurring all of this newfound pleasure you were drunk on. “Just wanna, nnngh–be good for you…”

“Oh, that’s right. Silly me. You’re being a very good girl right now, baby, Don’t worry.” San couldn’t help but smile at the way you seemed to melt in front of him. It was just too easy. He glanced down at the camera, zooming in and capturing the moment his friends filled you up with their hot loads, the bliss evident on your fucked-out face. “That’s it, baby. Are you happy you stuck around here with us instead of going back to your dorm to do homework? Taking cock is much more fun, isn’t it, beautiful?” 

“So much more fun,” you sighed out, your pupils blown out just from looking at his devastatingly handsome face. It was then that you pouted. You were only here because you were in love with San, and yet, it wasn’t even his dick inside you. It wasn’t fair. “But, I’d have even more fun with you, Sannie~” 

“Is that so…?” San offered a brief shit-eating smirk to one of his boys nearby, reaching down to grab at himself through his sweatpants, like he was weighing it. “It’s right here, baby. Why don’t you show us what that pretty mouth can do?” 

Both Mingi and Yunho slowed down their thrusts, but didn’t completely pull out, choosing to leisurely fuck their cum back into you, as they fought to catch their breath.

“What a loser, cumming first like that,” Mingi insulted Yunho, licking at the saliva left on his lips. 

“Your mom doesn’t have a problem with it,” Yunho chided back, reaching down past your body to smack his hand into the side of Mingi’s ass. 

“Goddamn it, you guys, I’m gonna have to edit that gay shit out.” San brought a hand up to scratch at his head in frustration. “You know what, both of you, get out of my shot and sword fight somewhere else. I’m not doing this right now,” San grumbled, shooing the two panting men away from the couch they had just made a mess on. 

“Bro acts like we don’t know about his late night tutoring sessions with Wooyoung,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, trying to stifle his laughter. 

Mingi almost choked on his breath. “Don’t forget, Yeosang. San doesn’t even take physics anymore, either. Yet, he still visits that nerd every Friday like clockwork.” 

“Dude, aren’t they roommates?” Yunho cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, still using a hushed tone, “Do you think they run a train on–”

“Hey! Don’t make me haze the two of you again just for fun…” San warned from the center of the room, glaring daggers at the two men who went quiet almost immediately. His annoyance abruptly melted away once you gingerly reached up to pull his sweatpants down until the frat emblem that was stitched into the thigh pocket was no longer visible. It was when San smacked his heavy length down onto your face, that you let out a pornstar worthy moan. Cha-ching. “Oh, you like that? Hm? Want my cock?”   

“Mm-hmm…” San’s cock slapped down onto your face a second time. You quickly squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from cumming right then and there, biting back a moan all the while. You wondered if it was obvious how truly desperate you were for the man standing above. Fuck it. You were already here, so you might as well get what you came for. “Please, give it to me, Sannie, f-fuck my mouth.” 

San could not believe his luck. His loyal fanbase would absolutely have a field day with this as soon as he uploaded it. He could already see the cash flowing in, and it made him rock hard. He sighed happily to himself, running his fingers through your hair, carefully tucking a few strands behind your ear. “It’s really true what they say…the shy ones are always the most slutty.”  

*“I’m not a slut, I just–” you cut yourself off, not wanting to confess to San right before you were about to suck him off in front of his fraternity and whichever degenerate that would be watching it back later on. You pouted again, looking up at him with wide, sparkly eyes. “I want to be useful to you, like a doll~”  

“Did you hear that, everyone? Y/N here is a real life doll. Let’s treat her as such,” San reminded his friends and housemates who couldn’t help but hover around the couch, a few of them sharing knowing smiles with one another. 

Your heart began to thump away inside your chest, unable to believe that your long-time crush was giving you so much of his attention and affection. It was like a dream come true. As soon as your lips parted to take in a shaky breath, San tightened his grip around your hair, yanking you forward and stuffing your mouth full of cock. “Mmnnf…!” 

Clutching the camera with one hand and the makeshift ponytail he created near the back of your head, San began thrusting sloppily into your open mouth, groaning at the slick sensation of your throat routinely closing around his moving cockhead. “Come on, doll, let me in, yeah? So Sannie can fuck your throat raw.” 

San wasn’t lying. With each wet, rough thrust, he got closer and closer to doing what he promised you. “Mmmn…nnn…” You couldn’t tell if the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes were the result of San’s dizzying performance or the burning arousal you felt stirring inside your core simply from being watched by a room full of men you didn’t know. 

“Aww, crying already, princess? I’ll give you something to really cry about when I’m breeding that pretty cunt of yours,” San chuckled darkly, his strong hips snapping relentlessly, his pace only beginning to falter once he saw escaping drool mixed with his pre-cum dripping down past your chin and down in between your tits. You were becoming a mess. It was going to make the frat leader bust any second. The borderline obsessive look you had inside your teary eyes didn’t help either. “Fuck, oh god– Somebody take the goddamn camera!” 

The youngest of the group fumbled to grab the camera, using his jacket sleeve to rub the fingerprints off of the lens, before lifting it up, capturing the exact moment San pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and slid his cock along in between your glistening tits. 

San turned to face the camera for a second, dimples flashing, squishing your tits in between his thick fingers as he fucked them. “See, you guys? This is how you use a doll to her maximum potential,” he explained as though he were a professor on campus. “Just look at her face. She loves it.” 

Instead of trying to focus on the camera, you gazed directly up at him, your cheeks warm to the touch, still love-struck, even when San’s load landed all over your face. You simply licked away what had landed on your lips, sucking the rest off the frat leader’s fingers once he so lovingly fed it to you. 

San nodded his head in approval, patting yours in an effort to reward you for your hard work. “That’s a good girl…” He tilted his head to the side. “Let’s see what else our pretty doll can do. Sound good?” 

“Really good,” you chimed, licking at your swollen lips, savoring San’s essence. 

Wedding bells were ringing in the distance. You would do anything for San, and that meant letting him treat you like a sex doll and fuck you in any position he saw fit for the next hour. By the time your knees gave out from cumming for the nth time, San had you in a full nelson in the middle of the couch, positioned behind you with his arms locked around your upper half, making sure your used, feverish body was on complete display. 

“Sannie…gonna…cum…again,” you breathed out in between a few heavy moans, your head feeling so heavy that you just let it hang for a second. 

San repositioned himself so that he could clutch your chin, tilting it upwards. His free hand snaked around your waist, laying his palm flat on your tummy, suddenly driving his cock up into you so hard, you couldn’t even speak if you wanted to. “Hey, be a good slut and let them see what you look like when you’re cumming your brains out.” 

You simply looked up at the blurry camera past your teary lashes, letting out a choked gasp once you barreled over the edge of ecstasy. You didn’t have a chance to recover from the overwhelming pleasure, especially not when San pressed his hand down firmly onto the bulge his cock was routinely making inside your stomach. “P-please..! Sannie..!” 

You want another load? Fuck, baby.” Groaning, San took a second to lick one of the tears that was rolling along your cheek before it dropped, his hips slamming against yours so quick, you were already developing bruises, ones that would accompany the bright red love bites scattered across your slick skin. He pressed his lips directly to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “You know, seeing you in class and on campus, I never would’ve pegged you as a cumslut, but everyone enjoys a good surprise every now and then…don’t they?”

“Yes–yes, yes, yes,” you chanted back, too cockdrunk to even fully process what San was saying, just focused on how full you felt, and how you needed more. 

“Good, because I got a surprise for you too.” Grunting loudly, San lowered his hips and slammed them up into you one last time, holding your trembling body still, painting your pulsing walls white. “Now, say ‘thank you, Sannie.’”

“Thank you, Sannie.” You leaned your head back to nuzzle the side of his cheek, placing your hands over his, feeling him rubbing your lower stomach in small circles, his cock still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Anytime, sugar.” San gave your hair a few strokes as a reward, before pulling out and climbing off of the couch. He took the camera back from the new guy and snapped his fingers at a few of the bricked up housemates standing nearby, pointing in your direction. “Now, show me what you’re really made of.” San gave you a charming, dimpled smile. “Make me proud, okay?” 

As a few half naked strangers surrounded you on all sides of the couch, some of them reaching out to grope your warm body, you returned San’s smile, your heart skipping a beat or two. “I’ll give it my best just for you~” 

Throughout the night, San, alongside his fraternity, conditioned you with care, meticulously molded you into a star, one they eagerly passed around, easily making your tape one of the longest in their exclusive film collection. It wasn’t difficult, by any means. You were, of course, the perfect specimen: passive, pliant, and poisoned by the oxytocin that turned your brain into mush.

Even when you were being used by more men than you could count, you couldn’t keep your attention off of Sannie, his handsome face only growing blurry when someone would make you gag on their cock, as you didn’t have the most experience with men of their size. You wanted San to yourself again, desperately wishing you could reach out for him instead of another stranger’s twitching erection — but you endured it all, falling further into the rabbit hole of pleasure for the sake of your whirlwind infatuation. 

Everyone in the frat house deeply appreciated your dedication to their amateur film, especially San, who, by the end of it, secured the perfect spot to capture the finality of your desecration. Two of his older friends had just finished inside you, their spent cocks slipping out of your used hole and revealing the beautiful mess they left.

Crouched down in front of the couch, San reached out past the camcorder to spread your puffy lips apart, each and every load you took over the past hour now slowly spilling out onto his veined hand. “Look at this pretty cunt, you guys…so full of cum, it won’t stop coming out…” He panned up to your face with the camera, giving you a wicked smile from behind it. “You’ll be pregnant in no time, won’t you, doll? With whose baby, I wonder…”

After all that, you somehow managed to act shy, covering your flushed face, giving San heart eyes past your trembling fingers. “Hopefully yours…” 

“Oh, princess.” San gently rubbed his fingers over your reddened cunt and clit, cum still dribbling out of you all the while. “I don’t think you realize how cute you’re being right now~ Almost like you didn’t just slut yourself out for everyone to see, huh? Mm, do you feel cute, Y/N?” San asked in a babying tone, as he slowly stood up and towered over you. 

“You make me feel cute…” You nuzzled your cheek into the palm of San’s warm hand once he offered it to you, hoping you secured a spot inside his heart after all the hard work you put in. “I would keep going for you if I could still feel my legs.” 

“Aww, there’s always next time, isn’t there?” he suggested slyly, rubbing away some leftover cum from your cheek before caressing the side of your face. “Do you have anything to say to our loyal fanbase, baby?” 

“I love cock, especially yours, Sannie,” you slurred lovingly up at San, through the camera lens, licking your lips, mouth watering at the thought of being invited again to film another movie. “So give me a call, okay?” 

“Oh, I will, believe me.” A smug laugh erupted from San’s puffed-out chest, as he aimed the camera at his pretty boy face for a second to announce, “We’ve officially turned another good girl into a filthy cumslut. If you’d like to watch the transformation happen in real time, feel free to stop by our frat. For extra, we’ll let you have a go.” And with that, he shut the camcorder off and pushed it into the youngest member’s chest, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Fuck it, we might even give you a turn.” 

The freshman choked on his spit. “R-really?” 

“I’m feeling nice today.” San sighed, running his fingers through his gelled up hair to fix it. When the young man just stood there drooling, the frat leader grimaced. “Upload this to all our sites ASAP, and don’t forget about our twitter page this time,” he demanded, rolling his eyes when he saw the cum stains the embarrassed student left behind on his pants. “And, for fuck’s sake, will you take care of that?” 

As another member brought a can of beer over to San, the frat leader took it and cracked it open. “Can you believe that guy? He’s been here for, what, a month now? And he’s still creaming his pants like a virgin? Unbelievable.”

As you gingerly put your clothes back on, you watched San move around the frat to dab up his friends and clink their beer cans together in celebration of another successful shoot. You couldn’t help but let out a long, lovesick sigh. He would be yours one day. Until then, you would take what you could get, and of course, become a star. 

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @crazyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[tricoloreddango]

dutiful boyfriend

Summary: Phainon wants to apply a lotion on your body; however, his intention are not so innocent.

Yandere Phainon x female reader

contents: nudity / dub-con|non-con touching (lotion application with groping) / obsession / smutty (nipple play) / female cycle mentions / patronizing behavior / forced relationship / mentions of suffocating (paranoid) /

Word count: 1.3k

Not suitable for minors.

No matter how much Phainon’s presence could have been suffocating for you, with him wanting to be in your space and have your attention 24/7, he has never relented.

That’s why you both just took a bath together. Another excuse to have you close to him, with his intention hidden under a false reasoning of couple activities and Amphoreus’s bathing culture. Anyone else who didn’t know the true nature of your relationship would think he’s just a clingy boyfriend, maybe like a puppy with separation anxiety; but you knew better.

He has held you tight to his chest the entire time of taking a bath together, sitting behind you. Washing you was included too, disguised as him wanting to take care of you and help you relax. Yet in never felt like anything else other than invasive and vulnerability-forcing.

However, your stressful situation of your peace and space being intruded wasn’t over just because you left the bathtub. Another part of him taking care of you was meant to be him applying a lotion for you too, right after he wiped you clean with a a towel to make it all invasive.

“Phainon… I can do it myself,” you said nervously when you saw him grab a bottle of lotion from the counter of the sink. He already did everything for you, making you feel so incompetent and out of control of your own life or even body. You didn’t know if you can handle more of his touch either.

“Nonsense!” he responded in a chirpy voice. “I just want to take care of you. You needn’t to lift even a finger,” he said with a smile and winked at you. Phainon stood right in front of you and pumped out few squirts of rose-scented lotion. Each pump made your heart pound like a thunder. He already was touchy on regular basis, but wanting to spread something all over your naked body felt even more unsafe and humiliating without a close barrier to protect you. Regardless, some part of you wanted to believe he was just being nice… even if it felt rather infantilizing and pushy to have everything done for you.

No, it was maddening when you were treated like someone who couldn’t take care of herself. The question was whether Phainon shared your sentiments.

“Okay…” you finally gave in. You knew he’d keep wearing you down if you say no anyway.

“Thank you, my love! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he said softly with another smile, although his eyes were a different story—watching you like a hawk, not hiding an unhealthy obsession with you.

Despite you agreeing, it didn’t make you feel any less anxious from anticipation of waiting for his hands to be put on you.

When Phainon finally did so, a hope filled you somewhat. He was just applying it on your shoulders and arms first, not in any suggestive way.

Only for your stomach to be churned when he got onto your chest after few more pumps of lotion to gather and spread.

He wasn’t just applying lotion. No, his hands lingered on your breasts for way too long. He was doing more than rubbing your breasts—his hands were squeezing them in circling motions, and you had to bite down on a moan, both sensitive and startled. “P-phainon, what are you doing?”

“Me?” he said innocently, “Didn’t you say your breasts are tender before period? I’m just helping you, I’ve heard a massage can help…”

“Yes, but…” you protested weakly, feeling as if he wasn’t entirely truthful.

“No buts, pretty girl,” he said with a reassurance and kissed your forehead to further convince you. “Now…” His fingers were now onto your nipples, rubbing their sides between his digits. You yelped, feeling a spark of both slight pain and involuntary arousal. He smiled a little.

“Phainon…” you said unsurely, “I am fine, really…”

You moaned when he gently pinched your buds that were growing sturdy. “Some pleasure should relieve your pain, I think.”

‘I think’—he wasn’t even sure if he had to do this, yet he gambled and put you through unnecessary humiliation.

Right when your body was getting more eager, he finally stopped. To your displeasure, for some reason you felt disappointed. “Do they feel better?” he asked hopefully. You nodded immediately in case he wanted to drag this out.

“Perfect. Just a few more places are left to moisturize…”

Few more pumps.

Next was stomach and back. He didn’t make it any weird thankfully, although with your legs he dragged his hands down and up them, making you extremely nerved when he was reaching more intimate areas.

You felt tears build up when his hands landed on your backside. Phainon even forced your body pressed tightly against his to get closer to that area, chest to chest and with his face buried in your neck. His lips were teasing your skin, as if you weren’t overwhelmed already. Your eyes didn’t need to witness his expression, as he knew you wouldn’t like the truth.

You felt his skin against yours, which only intensified the sense of being naked but in more symbolic sense than simply touch and nudity. “How can you be so beautiful, hm?” he teased, making you squirm as his voice vibrated against your neck. “You’re unreal, really…” he murmured contentedly, thinking about its just him in your life.

His words didn’t cause any sense of being flattered in you. You just wanted to leave this bathroom to signalize the end of this torment.

“I’m getting cold,” you tried to lie as you felt him massage and squeeze your flesh. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping you warm. You should feel warmer soon,” he said gently.

You did feel warm, albeit it felt like an unpleasant sweaty sensation than comforting one. When he looked up at you he wiped your few tears with a loving look that felt out of place for your distress. “Oh, my bad, I didn’t realize you’re that sensitive. It must be an overstimulation,” his tone was apologetic and worried, but the real reason of your tears remained unspoken; though you had to admit that even the scent of rose hanging in the air felt now too irritating to your nose. “I’ll make the rest of the process quick for your sake.” When you nodded and he gave you a quick kiss, making you experience a lot of relief that this torture was nearing the end, your joy was quickly diminished.

Few more pumps.

He was moisturizing your mound. Your eyes widened and you tried to close your legs in panic but he swiftly forced them open. “Don’t be ungrateful,” his voice was suddenly cold, making you freeze from the shock in sudden change in his mood. That kept you unmoving, scared you end up provoking him further even if you weren’t at fault here.

Fortunately for you his hand didn’t wander deeper between your thighs, leaving your most intimate place untouched… though you didn’t know if it’s a good thing—maybe it was merely a begging of some game, and he was taking you slowly part by part, hence he left the best for later.

“Good girl,” he praised at your compliance, and when he sounded soft again you had to do a double check to know whether you didn’t only imagine him being aggressive a second ago.

Last pump. Phainon’s left hand gathered your hair up to reveal your neck and not stain your hair with crème, and the other quickly spread the product around your throat. Despite him not hurting you, a sense of paranoia and claustrophobic pressure was there with his palm on this place—a worry about both being suffocated both literally and figuratively. You ever doubted he’d lay a hand on you; it was just a fear caused by having your entire existence have him all over your life everyday.

You exhaled deeply when he finally put the bottle away. “All smooth and soft, just like you should be. Not to mention how good you smell…”

You squirmed when his finger traced your arm down, wanting to experience how silky your skin was now…

You really had no idea how much he craved you just from simple gestures like this. Every part of you had a deeper meaning to Phainon, and you were desirable both physically and simply because it was you.

He smiled widely, all enthusiastic. “Now we can go to bed and rest. Don’t worry, I’ll help you put on your clothes too.”

I really can’t stop writing this type of Phainon…

[marzshin]

confident!fem reader x various

characters- leona, vil, ruggie, kalim, idia

this was really fun to think abt, i hope you all like it!

leona

so he’s used to it in a sense. sunset savanna has no shortage of strong feminine people so when you two meet he doesn’t think much of it. you’re just another herbivore to him. it’s not until you start hanging out more that he begins to admire it. you walk with purpose, strong elegant strides seems to be all you know, and the stern tone you use when you’re talking with others? whew does that get his mind running wild… especially if you’re using it on him😼 if you’re looking for a hype man that keeps it lowkey, leona is your man. he loves it😋

Vil

power couple who? heads jerk to ogle at you two, it’s as if you’ve lured everyone into a trance. vil loves how confident you are because it translates onto him; when he’s with you he feels just as confident. (which is needed bc we know he can get pretty insecure at times) regardless of your modeling experience, you better believe he’s doing a shoot with you, and by the SEVEN is it one of the best shoots he’s ever done. your energy’s just mix soooo well, it’s so unbelievably encapsulating. everyone is envious of you all. they want what you guys have fr.

ruggie

oh he’s crazy intimidated. like he cannot for the life of him bring himself to start a conversation with you. i mean he’s used to it with the female hyena beastmen at his home town yeah, but unlike with them, he actually wants to talk to you… it eats away at him until you take notice and send him a wave. what?! oh my seven… he could faint, he’s never been more attractive to anyone ever. as you guys begin to talk, he falls deeper and deeper in love with you. i’m kind of getting a jessica rabbit and roger vibe goin, sort of🤷‍♀️ but just know that with him you’ll always have love right around the corner.

kalim

he’s allll for it. honestly he can’t take his eyes off you, taking in every feature of your body and face, finding more and more ways to love you every time he takes a glance at you… very lover boy but he’d be that way even if you weren’t confident. if you like dressing up, he’s so buying you outfits and jewelry just to see you model them. if not, that’s fine too! he just likes basking in your glory. another power couple i fear. his peppy, happy-go-lucky vibes paired with your more mature, sexy one is like the final puzzle pieces finally being put together. classmates love the energy you two radiate when you’re together and he loves it too.

idia

he’s shaking like a wet chihuahua… utterly hopeless, pathetic, etc. no idea what would’ve kickstarted your relationship but it’s literally the loser x baddie trope, it’s great lolz. it’s even better if you’re also a secret nerd, especially for him. now don’t expect much eye contact with him, he tries okay, you’re just too gorgeous😔 while he’s geekin’ out over a new character he pulled in one of his games, you just sit there next to him, listening and watching him with a loving passion. he accidentally makes eye contact and freezes. blue screens if you will, it’s funny but worrisome at times. like he’s yapping your ears off one moment then an eruption of pink fire fills your view and he’s stuck there stammering. all in all, he’s got no clue how he could’ve pulled you but sevens is he in love.

[kaybreezy3000]

The Reason ~A Five Hargreeves/Female Reader Insert request (Complete)

Rated Mature for Explicit Sexual Content (20k word one-shot with 10 fast paced chapters)

Anonymous asked:

Please just give me the smuttiest enemies to friends to lovers, with some breeding kink PLEASEEE 🧍‍♀️🙏🏻

KayBreezy's reply: Okay. 😂 Done. See Below to read this wild adventure.

~Tags and Warnings: feral Five, soft Five angst, family fluff, flirting, humor, rough sex, story with plenty of smutty smut but it needs to build to get there so be patient and it will pay off, Five being wonderful and awful, smart female reader insert, Diego is a bomb ass bro, canon compliant plus extra addressing of shit they didn't bother to and I wish they would have, breeding kink, enemies-to friends-to lovers, some tags left off to keep you on your toes, season 5 TUA

~Very Important Note: DUE TO SPOILERS, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED S4 This story starts where season 4 ends and reads like a season 5 start. It is canon compliant, letting you take what we were left with on the show, DISREGARDING the controversial sexual relationship that happened, or not. That's the big thing with this one. This is written so the reader can interpret that stuff as they want to. There are only two mentions in this that even come remotely close into that territory and those parts can also be looked at as Five simply feeling awful and not because that even happened. He has plenty of other reason for his sadness, why they felt the need to give him more and end them all, I will never know. 😭 I personally have always seen a special bond with Five and Lila, only not at all the way it played out in the show, and we will see some of my version of their admiration of each other in this one, and I did it to honor both these characters I love. It is also important to say, this is in no way written in a way that is triggering for those who hated what happened on the show. This is written to give them all something better. That was my point, and to try to do this request some justice. ❤️I hope you enjoy. Sending peace and love to all the beautiful TUA/FIVE fans.

THE REASON

Chapter one: The Beginning of the End

Slipping away, there was no reason to fight anymore.

Sensations Five couldn’t put into words overwhelming him, the glowing pulsation of The Cleanse began to cover them, first trapping their feet, then building up around their legs with terrifying speed.

As the pressure pushed at his layers of clothing, naturally, panic set in.

His mind screamed, DO SOMETHING!!!

He would have laughed at the irony along with his family if it wasn’t all so awful. Here they were cracking jokes when they were about to die, and there he was, the massive lump of guilt in his throat trying to kill him quicker than the looming mass of elemental alien goo.

Five’s entire life, he’d thought he was the strong one, that he could save them, but boy had he been wrong.

Even before this shit storm splattered the fan, he knew he should have been starting over, but he’d done very little in the way of living, or being there for any of them.

He pretended he was fine, but he wasn’t.

He was alone, like he always was, but he was too stubborn to admit how empty his life was.

Instead, he blocked all that out by playing CIA agent, foolishly not noticing that the people who’d hired him were in on all this.

Then, when it all went from bad to worse, Five ran from it. Once with Lila as they traveled the train to insanity together, and then again after that, when they’d finally made it back and he realized they couldn’t beat the horrible death blob Ben and Jennifer had become.

It took a lifetime to learn it, but there was no running from this, or the unforgivable things he’d done only to end up with nothing.

Heart sinking to unfathomable depths of despair, unable to look at their faces, or the thing consuming them, Five looked to the ceiling instead. Through the highest windows of what in another time had been their childhood home, the world outside was righting itself, the fire of rebirth was hard at work, correcting things the right way this time.

There was no reason for his suffering.

No reason for any of this.

His breath catching in his throat, the mass of destruction that was swallowing them crept up Five’s neck, seeping under his sweat drenched collar.

Shutting his eyes to block out the horror of what was happening, he forced himself to think about why this was the only way out.

“What shattered the timeline?” he’d asked the Five that greeted him at the interdimensional deli filled with different versions of him.

“Not what. Who,” his cocky doppelgänger replied while pushing a stray piece of hair out of his face.

They were 145,142 times trying to stop the apocalypse, doomed to save or destroy the world, over and over… ad infinitum.

This would go on forever. Those crazy bastards weren’t willing to rise above their own wants and needs, but he was.

Eliminate the Marigold by ending all of them, and you get no more cycle of apocalyptic destruction. Simple as that.

Despite Five’s steadfast acceptance of this fact, a rush of air crawled out of his gaped mouth, the sound of it gut-wrenchingly pathetic even to his own ears. His lower lip trembled as The Cleanse reached his chin. He jerked his head higher to get away from it, but it was no good.

He felt Lila squeeze his hand. He squeezed back, a tear slipping down his cheek, immediately eaten away by the sludgy mass burying them.

I’m sorry.

He was, for everything, but he couldn’t say it, not anymore. He couldn’t even breathe.

The taste of death covered his lips, filling his nostrils. A familiar crackle of static energy zipped up and down his spine even though he hadn’t summoned it, like his powers had life of their own, begging him to stop this.

Five opened his eyes one last time, a spike of adrenaline needlessly alerting him to the fact that he was about to suffocate from the disgusting booger-like substance pushing into his mouth.

Silently crying out, The Cleanse choked off his airway.

His body, insistent on his need to breathe, helplessly drew in the otherworldly gunk.

He was drowning.

He began to thrash.

Above, ash began to fall from the ceiling. Five felt the same desperation he had a lifetime ago while standing outside the burning gates of his home.

Like then, all he could think about was finding a way back to save them. 

Just before the wave of glimmering slime slipped over Five’s head, a shadowed figure moved into his view on the second-floor balcony. The person propped their elbows on the railing. Extending their left hand, they began dangling a pocket watch, slowly swinging it back and forth on its silver chain.

As if dying wasn’t already shaking Five to the core, the ornately engraved disk they had looked exactly like a pocket watch he kept in a basket of broken timepieces back in his boyhood bedroom at the original Umbrella Academy.

He collected those discarded pieces of junk, trying to make their fragile parts work again because he saw something of himself in their busted balance springs and wheels, beaten and used, pushed aside, never able to prove to a dad that didn’t love him that he was good enough.

Reginald was right, he wasn’t.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” the young stranger said, as if reading Five’s thoughts. He angled his face into the light, the pouted line of his lips pulling to the side, mimicking one of Five's smiles almost perfectly. “For all this to work out, you had to get here.”

A faint swirl of blue energy lit up the boy’s hands as the floor rumbled under their feet. Chunks of the roof fell, but their pale green eyes wrinkled at the corners even more, not a hint of fear in them.

“I’d do this one for you, but I can’t,” he furthered. “As you always told me, when it comes to time travel, you don’t mess with the loops, and this is one hell of a temporal causality loop you set up.”

The dimple in the boy’s cheek deepened.

“No, you. No, me,” he calmly explained. “And that would mean this conversation wouldn’t be happening, resulting in you letting this end and game over for us.”

Pulling the old pocket watch back up, the boy popped it open, checking the time before he looked back down at Five through the mess of sun-kissed hair falling over his eyes.

“You know what to do. It’s time, Dad.”

He dropped the watch, the glint of metal sailing down into the abyss.

Lack of oxygen about to make him lose consciousness, The Cleanse covered Five’s shock filled eyes.

Getting crushed, he no longer felt the hands that had been holding his.

They were all gone.

As true terror set in, the last of the boy’s words echoed in his mind.

It’s time, Dad…

Chapter Two: Walk in the Park

Not even aware he was doing it at first, Five pulled at that undefinable feeling inside him that let him open doors no one else could. Within a second, the strings of time gave in to his demand, illuminating the darkness.

An explosion of violent light burst outwards, the force of it ripping his skin inside out, or it felt that way. At that point, Five wasn’t sure if he was still intact, or not. All he knew was, he’d given everything he had left, opening one final portal, not even accounting for the destination.

Flung into a tornado of time and space knitting itself back together into the one true timeline, Five landed in the only place he could.

Coming down fast, blindly flailing, he slammed down on top of a picnic table, sending the food airborne that Lila’s parents had just laid out for lunch.

Face smashed into what he was pretty sure had been a cake, Five let out a whimpered groan.

Fresh air ruffled his frosting coated hair, the white sugar standing out in stark contrast to his chocolate-colored strands.

Untwisting his legs, his dress shoe accidentally knocked into Claire’s can of orange soda, tipping it over. The fizzy mess started pouring out all over Lila’s feet as she glared at him.

Five rapidly blinked his eyes, still not sure if what he was seeing was real.

Everything was so bright, a canopy of green and blue.

Orange and yellow marigolds filled the landscaped gardens.

Upbeat music played somewhere in the distance.

“What do you know, the flying fart squirrel decided to join us after all,” Lila dryly noted as she wiped a piece of potato salad off her forehead, flicking it at Diego.

Unfazed by Five’s fumbled landing, Diego picked the mayo covered slop off his shirt, sticking it in his mouth as he rolled his eyes at her. “Come, on babe. Fivvv nev-lets us dow. I nn-ew-he-be-here,” he mumbled while reaching out to lend him a helping hand.

Once on his feet, Five swayed, but Diego held on, keeping him steady as he took in the full extent of his shell-shocked appearance. “Rough day, old man?” he asked, a look of worry bending his silly dad-stash into a frown.

“You could say that,” Five croaked.

He reached up, his trembling fingers brushing the ghost of stubble darkening his jaw.

“Thank God I’m not twelve years old again,” he breathed.

Diego and Lila looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Five…?” Diego questioned. “Since you still can’t calculate your decades long jumps worth a shit, why don’t you just use one of your briefcases to commute.”

“Uncle Five is here!” Grace shouted, abandoning the game of frisbee she was playing with Luther and Sloane. Bolting over, her arms flung around Five’s waist. “Did you bring me anything?” she asked, beaming up at him.

Five was speechless.

Her twin siblings screeched as they rolled around on a fuzzy blanket filled with toys. Behind them, camped out on the grass, or horsing around not far away, Five saw his entire family, and all the people from their past that they had loved and lost.

A few yards away, Dave was sitting with his back against a tree, Klaus lying next to him with his head in his lap.

Eudora, Sissy, little Harlan, Elliot, Ray, Ben and Jennifer…

Five kept counting.

To his left, Agnes and Hazel walked by, bird watcher guide in hand.

Even the Sparrows' faces dotted the crowded scene, the one Five didn’t recognize with blue hair oddly reminiscent of a non-cube version of Christopher.

“Holy shit,” he gasped.

With the buzz of the older kids laughing at their funny Uncle Five and his ruined suit, and the rest of his family looking at him like he needed to be locked up, the fear that everyone close to him was about to be wiped off the face of the Earth hadn’t even come close to wearing off. And that feeling only got worse when he spotted The Handler sitting on a nearby park bench.

Starting to walk towards her, he reached into his inside jacket pocket to pull out his CIA issued handgun, but it wasn’t there.

Getting nothing but a handful of Jello, Five ran right into Herb. In a domino effect, the smaller statured man started teetering backwards.

“Youch!” you cried as his heel dug into your opened toed dress shoe.

Everything you were holding slipped out of your hands as they flung out to break your fall.

Before hitting the dirt, your skirt flew up, giving everyone a show.

Looking about as thrown as you, Five looked down at the Temps Commission insignia on the journal you dropped, then the pocket watch that had fallen next to it.

He cursed.

Clenching his hands so hard it looked like he might hurt himself, he started shaking his head side to side. “Where is he?” he growled.

“Who?” you fired back at him, trying to get up.

“That kid!”

“What kid?”

Before Herb could say anything to add to your confused reply or find his handy-dandy Commission issued time stopper, Five took off again.

Scrambling to your feet, you reached out to catch his arm. He swung around with a snarl and shoved you to the ground again, then he blinked away, reappearing right behind The Handler, ready to choke her with his bare hands, the only thing stopping him being the lady coming past, pushing a baby stroller.

Seeing the real Grace’s smiling face, so much like that of his robot mother, Five looked even more manic.

“Stop!” Herb frantically cried out, realizing that something was off more than Five lacking any spatial awareness.

Five didn’t stop, and neither did you, clumsily coming after him, your dress shoes slipping on the grass, you yelled, “If you do this, you’re going to regret it!”

To your relief. Five lowered his hands.

You came to a stop in front of the Handler, your hands coming to your knees as you tried to catch your breath. She looked from you, to the crazed young man behind her.

She lowered her cell phone. “Can I help you?”

“No. Sorry,” you huffed, quickly storming around the park bench to take Five by the back of his food covered suit jacket.

“She doesn’t know who you are!” you whisper yelled at him as you towed him away from her. “What in the world are you thinking?”

Five angrily narrowed his eyes at you.

“This was your plan!” you barked, to which he equally angrily jerked his shoulder away from your hand.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you corral him back towards Herb, but he wasn’t opposed to stomping over there himself, which was fine by you, so long as he did, and started to calm his cake-covered ass down.

“Glad to have you back,” Herb nervously chuckled once Five was in earshot. “Sorry about that.” He glanced at The Handler who was happily chatting away on her cell phone again. “I’m sure some of this is still hard for you, but everyone affected by this needed to be in close proximity to perform all the alternations you wanted. This picnic took some time for us to set up, but we got it done. As far as they know, you all have been back here for weeks and we had nothing to do with this party.”

Five’s cold gaze didn’t falter.

After picking up the items he made you drop, you handed him his journal, the one that said to give it to him as soon as he arrived.

“I don’t want that,” he spat, refusing to take it from you.

“Maybe it would be better if we took this conversation back to The Commission,” Herb offered.

“Like hell it would,” Five snapped, “There is no way I am going back to that shitshow of manipulative sadists.”

“You are the leader of our shitshow of manipulative sadists,” you retorted.

Ignoring that and your offended expression, he came at you, a flash of light blinding you as he snatched the watch out of your hand. Reappearing a few yards away, he hissed, “Who are you and who gave you this!”

Now you were the one narrowing your eyes.

Introducing yourself, minus the usual extended hand in case he tried to bite it off, you said, “I serve as your Co-Chair, and the watch was left with your files that were given to me when I was hired. And… it is not broken anymore because I fixed it for you. You’re welcome.”

“Why would I hire you?”

“Because you clearly needed my help,” you replied, your tone as acidic as his.

“Yeah, right,” he barked, his wild eyes suddenly fixating on you in a very ungentlemanly way.

Realizing that when he’d flung you the second time, your shirt had come undone by a few more buttons than you’d normally allow, you crossed your arms over your chest, using his journal like a shield to protect your boobs from his glare. “Look,” you sniped back. “I get that for you, some of this might be a little confusing because you’ve only been back for more than a few minutes real time, but for Herb and I, our day at the park had been much longer than that, stopping time over and over to correctly wipe and reset each of your family members you brought back. So… can we just get this thing moving?”

“You better not touch my family,” Five warned.

“With Optogenetics, cation-selective channel rhodopsin are used to excite neurons and inhibit neuronal activity, so touching isn’t exactly how we’d say memory alteration works, but you already know that. You are the one that left the notes that led to me inventing the pain free process to do it. Why are you being so difficult?” you questioned.

“Because…” he childishly seethed.

“Because?”

“That’s right,” he continued, his face contorting as his jaw muscles repeatedly tensed. “You throwing out big words means nothing. I’ve been fed a lot of lines of bullshit over the years, and I have no reason to trust a bimbo who’s wearing tiny pink underwear that would make a stripper blush! Or Herb! Or anyone that works at the place that ruined my life and millions of others!”

You smiled, and it wasn't the nice kind of smile. “Name calling? Really?”

“This has set up written all over it!” he yelled.

A lump of frosting fell off his head, landing on one of his expensive dress shoes. Fingers twitching at his sides, he was about to go ballistic.

In his notes spelling it out how this was going to go down, the Five of the future that hired you had written nothing about the possibility that the him now would have no clue what was going on, but it was clear he didn’t. Fortunately, there were protocols to handle situations like this-his protocols.

“We didn’t ruin anyone’s lives. That is the opposite of what we are about, but if you aren’t willing to come back and talk about that, I guess we are done here,” you said, raising an unimpressed brow.

“Sweetheart, I was done so long ago, you have no fucking idea.”

After condescendingly insulting you again, Five turned to check on his family. 

None of them were concerned, and you knew they wouldn’t be. The moment he walked away, their attention was back on entertaining the kids.

“Do you want to do it, or me,” you quietly asked Herb, who looked over at you, looking about as tired as you’d ever seen him.

“I’ll lug this thing,” he sheepishly offered, picking up the huge Commission briefcase you used to get there.

You reached in your pocket, calling out to Diego. “Hey, guys! Something came up. Five is needed back at the office.”

Five started to turn back, readying for a fight.

Sticking him in the neck with a fast-acting sedative before he could fully swing, his legs buckled at the knees.

“You didn’t jus-st-ffffah-kkkk," he slurred, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Chapter Three: The Founder

A line of drool running out of his mouth, Five flopped over the side of the settee he was passed out on. Groggily looking around from his new position on the hard marble floor, he saw the lights were dimmed and there was only the slightest bit of daylight on the horizon outside the heavily draped windows.

He had no idea how long he’d been out, but he knew where he was.

This was 1955 and these were the crown molded walls of AJ Carmichael’s office, then The Handler’s, but evidently this office wasn’t either of theirs anymore because the polished plaque sitting on top of the old mahogany desk read otherwise.

“Five Hargreeves, Director… Well, I’ll be damned,” he breathed.

Getting to his feet, head spinning, he swallowed, his throat thick.

On the small side table next to him, he noticed the pocket watch he’d stolen back from you and a glass of water next to it with a pink post-it note stuck to it that read, Drink Me.

“Yeah, right. I’ll probably shrink like Alice in Wonderland,” he grumbled, remembering how you stuck him in the neck with a syringe, at this point equating you to an evil version of the white rabbit, forcefully leading him back into a nightmare.

Running a hand through his hair, seeing no one there to ambush him, Five spotted his neatly polished shoes placed under the edge of the couch. There was also a fresh suit, with the addition of a pair socks and black briefs laying on one of the adjacent chairs.

Five looked down at the slumped blanket around his ankles, then his hands.

He still had on his undershirt and underwear, a pair exactly like the ones on the chair, but that was it. He’d been cleaned up, no more frosting anywhere.

Kicking free of the slumped blanket at his feet, he stomped over to his desk, eyes on the journal laying there and the slightly smashed piece of cake that had another post-it note next to it that said, ‘Once you’ve had your nap time, and snack time is over, put your big-boy pants back on and read this over for me, please.’

Looking at the door, his expression soured even more.

Picking up the leather-bound book, he recalled that you said it was his, but he didn’t remember it. Then again, this wasn’t the first time he’d left something for himself to find later.

Shoving memories of the subway station out of his mind, Five opened it, his finger running along the date and time noted at the top of the first page. There was no denying he’d written it.

Slowly sitting down, his eyes moved along, reading the detailed directions explaining all the things you were supposed to do before he got there. Things like making sure certain people from his past only remembered what they needed to remember, and that meant for some, like his ex-supervisor, some remembered nothing.

For his family, their memories were more complicated because they were a part of things that needed to be remembered, but in clipping bits of time from their minds, he stated it would allow them the easiest transition.

Further diving into this new reality, Five read that many of the superpowered Hargreeves, including some of the Sparrows, worked for him and were involved in a new initiative of non-kill orders for all time corrective actions.

They’d been wiped. Just like you said. The device used to do it, one he told you to make, and it sounded a lot like the one Reginald used to erase the memories of how the original Ben died.

That happened. It all did. Five remembered it and his notes said the others would too- for the most part.

The past still happened because it had to, but that didn’t mean everyone needed to be burdened with the heavier traumas of it. That idea was a core value stated in The Temps Commission’s original doctrine, also written by him, conveniently there on the desk for him to go over.

All of it confirmed what you said. He was the Founder of The Commission; the same place that let him waste away in the apocalypse for forty years and then go through the rest of this crap. Apparently, that cruel joke didn’t just come to fruition in the Sparrow timeline spin off.

It was madness.

Somehow, his family survived, powers intact. He got them out of there at the last second, with none of them aware that anything odd was happening when you’d come up to them at the park, waving your specially calibrated brain wave eraser in front of their smiling faces.

You were an invited guest to their event and so was Herb. They knew you and trusted you, just like he supposedly did, only he didn’t.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, Five tensed.

“Come in.”

Herb timidly stepped inside, leaving the door ajar to the empty hallway. He lowered his chin and shook his head as if he already knew that what he was going to say was something Five wouldn’t want to hear. “That was a bumpy start,” he began. “We didn’t see that coming and we are so sorry about that. If we-”

“How long have you known about this,” Five sharply cut in.

“As you’ve read, that’s complicated,” he carefully replied.

“Herb,” Five sighed, his hand rubbing the worry line between his eyes. “All I have ever wanted was for this to end, but I don’t-"

Herb held up his hand stopping him. “I know you don’t want this. We all know what you’ve given to this place already, but we need you. With what you are capable of, your unique skill set makes you a perfect choice to run this organization.”

Herb paused, hoping Five understood that but he looked as unconvinced as before.

“This doesn’t have to be forever,” he tried. “The board just wants reassurance, and with you at the helm, it’s clear that people here will feel more comfortable about this transition. We no longer focus on preventing complications from the other timelines breaking off because there is only one timeline now. You took care of that by allowing The Cleanse to happen. Now we are here to ensure someone is present in case anything like this threatens us again. This is a big change for everyone,” he clarified, as if Five didn’t already grasp how big this was.

“And Reginald?” he quietly questioned, his troubled eyes pulling downward.

“Gone with the Cleanse,” you answered, coming into his office, “but as far as anyone else knows, he died years ago. You were there to spread his ashes. Many things are the same as before, but with the addition of the things that changed during the last five years you were gone, only you do not work for the CIA, even if that’s the cover we are using.”

You strolled over, sitting down next to Herb.

“The element your father’s wife inadvertently created as a byproduct of producing the thing they called ‘marigold’ is also gone. The marigold is still in all of you,” you furthered.

“That alien was not my dad,” Five tartly retorted, “and your presence here is not needed.”

When you didn’t move, he pointed to the door.

You crossed your legs, eyeing Five wearily. Putting a hand on your friend’s shoulder, you said, “You can head home, Herb. You haven’t slept in days.”

He smiled. “Neither have you.” He looked to Five, tiredly getting up. “Please listen. She’s smart. That is why you hired her.” 

Five’s brows furrowed as he took in the weight of what Herb said. He looked down at his lap, but the second the older looking man left the room, he looked back up, eyeing you with the same contempt. “No syringe?” he coldly dangled.

“No pants?” you countered.

He cocked his chin. “Why bother? You already violated me while I was unconscious. I figured this way if you came at me again; there’d be less in the way if you really wanted to go hard stomping on my dick.”

“You are the only one here being combative, but if you want me to stomp on your dick, keep it up, I will, but I’d much rather finish this debriefing, filling you in on anything else you might not recall, which sounds like everything you did to get here from this point on.”

“Time loops are a bitch, and you are…” He didn’t finish, instead he picked up his fork, putting his focus on stabbing his piece of cake into even more of a disaster.

“You don’t like me. Got it loud and clear,” you said, “but after meeting you, I must admit, I don’t like you either. Before this, I admired you, but you are nothing like the person I thought you were based on all the great things I read in your files.”

“Well… Most things look better on paper,” he sneered.

“Look… How about I just do what I am here to do, and you do the same?” you offered. “Cut the lines of bullshit you hate so much? Because that’s what this pissing match is. Waste of time bullshit.”

“Fine.”

“As I was about to say,” you started again, laying out your sheets of chemical equations for him to follow as you explained. “For Reginald’s dearly departed wife, in making the one element that also gave a fast track to your births, and then the other not so nice one Jennifer got stuck with, she essentially shot a machine gun at a needle in a haystack, but the bullet and needle didn’t fuse together completely, and you just witnessed the ricochetted result of that when they did finally fuse with Ben and Jennifer getting together, the bad part of that synthetic reaction vanishing forever in a timeline that is no more. Story done.”

“So, you are saying we weren’t the cause of all this?” he asked, still not believing it.

“No,” you said. “Abigail’s bad science was and that really wasn’t that hard to figure out. It only took me a few days once I was given the top-secret files you left behind for Herb to find in your Paradox Proof bunker.”

“That’s impossible. I’m the only one that can get in there,” Five argued.

“Not exactly,” you calmly disagreed. “After Dallas, when Herb was holding the temporary position of Chairmen of the Board, he gained access to many interesting things you hide around here, including a glass eye you had made that was a replica of yours.”

“The retinal scan,” Five murmured under his breath.

“Yes. You were very busy at some point in the future, and lucky us, everything you did paid off.”

Saying nothing, Five didn’t look like he felt lucky, but when he didn’t question you more about the bunker, you moved on.

“Another thing you probably don’t remember figuring out, is that when it comes to thinking you were all only born because of the release of the Marigold on our planet, that isn’t true. You all would have been born regardless. All your mothers were already pregnant, only days along and none knew it yet. You all had fathers and mothers, just like the rest of us, only with you, the second that alien dusting of orange entered our atmosphere, it needed to find a host and you were it, the perfect jump off point for a miracle.”

“The Umbrella Academy?” he asked, dismissing your explanation about his parents, like it didn’t matter that he wasn’t just alive because of aliens playing God.

“It happened. You were all acquired by Reginald, same as before,” you continued. “The world knows about most of you like they always did, and they are aware you’re back, the details of your disappearance understood to be a complication due to your ability to spatially jump. The running story is you were frozen between jumps, not that you’d jumped to the future. We don’t want the entire world knowing about time travel and your ability to do it, or ours.”

“So, there you have it,” Five scoffed.

“Dumbed down, yes, but I thought since you’ve had a hard day, you’d appreciate that.”

“Are you one of us?” he asked as he studied you, for the first time his eyes not darting away from yours when you determinedly refused to look away.

“No,” you half laughed, half scoffed. “As you can see,” you waved a hand in front of yourself, “I am not the same age as your siblings, but I suppose when it comes to you, that means little, so fair question. Unlike you, I am the age I appear to be, which I’m guessing is not much off from you physically at this point. I was plucked out of college to come here, and since then, I devoted my life to being here to help you in any way I can, and I assure I am qualified to do it otherwise—”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t have hired you,” he finished for you. Hand at his mouth, anxiously edging his teeth across his thumbnail, Five’s eyes grew distant again.

Silence filled the room.

“We have a meeting with the board in the morning. I will drop off the agenda early enough for you to go over it beforehand,” you said, pushing your chair out to get up.

You waited a moment for him to look up, but he didn’t, so you headed to the door, turning just before you left.

“This is over,” you said, the anger in your voice completely gone. “At least you can take solace in that.”

You shut the door behind you.

Still seeing the delicate features of your face overlapping those of the mysterious boy on the balcony who’d looked like him, only not, Five mentally kicked himself.

“This isn’t over,” he breathed.

Chapter Four: I’m the Daddy Here

By the next day, when Five’s brothers dropped into his office, he had shadows under his eyes and his young bones were aching like his body really was 70 years old.

Sitting in front of him, next to Klaus, Diego stretched his arms up over his head, as he said, “Dude, you still have your shitty apartment from your CIA days to crash at, so why does it look like you’ve been pacing your secret lair all night?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know Diego,” Five threw back. “Maybe I forgot I had a place to call my own and I did pace in here all night? Unlike you, I have bigger things on my mind than which Hawaiian shirt I’m going to wear to work.”

“You look so Miami Vice,” Klaus said, giving Diego a high five, before he moved his attention to Five. “What are you whining about, man? We are riding on a gravy train with biscuit wheels.” He threw his arms around like they should look around him. “We won!”

Five lips pursed tighter.

Klaus’s jaw dropped as he looked over at Diego. “What… We didn’t win? We’re all in the void?”

Diego laughed. “For a someone with the powers of divine entity you sure are—"

“We won,” Five interrupted, bringing them back to the point. “Or I should say, we will, but not unless I finish this.”

“You did finish this. We are here and life is good,” Diego pointed out, moving on to what he felt the real problem was. “Are you happy, Five? And what does that even mean to you outside of making sure we all keep breathing? Maybe the answer to that is why you’re still struggling. Apocalypse addiction is a-“

“Fuck you, Diego. I don’t need one of your psych ward therapy sessions you and Lila get off on. I need to have a kid! If I don’t, we will all cease to exist and there will be no do over this time and that is very bad!”

“How do you know that?” he questioned, his amused smile still proving that he thought they were just having one of their usual lectures with Five about him needing to get out more.

“Shit. Is it hot in here?” Five complained, yanking at his collar.

“Earth to Five,” Diego rammed him, “I asked you a question.”

Having loosened his tie enough to feel like the walls weren’t closing in on him, Five testily said, “I know this, Diego, because a kid that looked a lot like me was there just before The Cleanse finished its job, and he called me dad. If he hadn’t been there and said what he did, verbally slapping me into doing something, we wouldn’t be here.”

“What?!” Klaus bellowed. “No way! You’re a dad!”

“No,” Five sighed. “I will be a dad in the future-maybe.”

“Maybe!? Why didn’t you tell us this!” Diego yelled, nearly falling out of his chair.

“I am telling you,” Five replied.

“Yeah, sure,” Diego huffed. “Now you are. And why does your kid have powers and mine and Allison’s don’t?”

“Wow. It’s just like Marty McFly in Back to the Future.” Klaus lifted his hand, checking to see if it was disappearing yet.

Five tiredly smiled at him. “It’s not at all like that. Time loops don’t work that way. If we evaporate, it will be instantaneous, and at this point, I have no idea how long I have to prevent it. There will be no warning.”

“Time loops shhh-mime loops,” Diego said, running his fingers over his mustache. “You know we don’t understand any of that shit. But hey, this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Your nuts are full of superpowered swimmers. You should be excited.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Excitement is not exactly what I’d call what I am feeling. If I don’t produce a magical progeny, none of the things I have done will matter. We all die anyway. Case in point, this is a bad thing.”

“Shoot,” Klaus whistled. “If you’d known this years ago you could have spent way less time privately polishing your palm and instead been out trying to impregnate the world with your superpowered sperm.”

Five groaned. “That wouldn’t have worked, because it needs to happen now. After The Cleanse and the time situation was fixed.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Klaus insisted. “You’re a stud. Get out there and have some fun.”

“And if it’s having kids you are worried about, they are both the best and worst thing that can happen to you,” Diego added. “I would know. Having three of them putting their sticky little fingers on all our shit all the time isn’t awesome, but creating them was fun.” He nudged Klaus. “This one time when Lila and I were in the back of Wanda we—"

“Not another word!” Five yelled.

“Whatever, man,” Diego chuckled. “You just need to see the bright side. Your kid was trying to help you and did.” He cleared his throat. “When it comes to Dolores, you can beat the meat with her all day but you’ll never beat the real th-“

“Please stop,” Five groaned again, burying his head in his hands.

Nodding his head in agreement, Klaus grinned hopefully. “I think what Diego is trying to say is having a breathing lady has its benef—"

“We’re done!” Five snapped, as he sprung forward. “If you don’t zip it, I’m going to blink you downstairs to the incinerator and lock you in there.” Slamming his index finger down on his desk, pointing at his gigantic desk pad calendar, he grinned maniacally. “And what do you know, it’s garbage day! You won’t be swimming in last week’s rotting tuna salad for long.”

“You’d never do that to us.”

“Really, Diego? You want to test that?”

Five’s brothers glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, like testing that wasn’t such a bad way to spend their afternoon.

“Five—"

“No, Klaus! Like I told Luther. I’M THE DADDY HERE! I am done entertaining you idiots. Get out!”

“Settled down,” Diego laughed. “We’re just trying to help you see that this isn’t so bad. And with the kid thing, I love mine and you do too. Speaking of which, it would be nice if their favorite uncle babysat them more often. Lila and I haven’t had a night out in a while.”

“I babysit,” Five defended.

“Not enough,” Diego shot back, pointing Five’s ballpoint pen at him.

Reaching forward, Five swiped it away. “Deigo, if I came over more often so you dipshits could go out and do disgusting things in your van, then you’d be dealing with more than three sticky-fingered monsters.”

Diego glanced at Klaus, then back at Five, smirking. “Say what you will, but I know you love being an uncle. The mountain of stuffed animals each of the girls has is proof of that.”

Tipping his weight back in his chair, Five folded his hands over his lap, wearily eyeing his brother. “I am not wrong,” he said, ignoring the point about his nieces and how much he enjoyed spoiling them. “You still have no idea how this baby making thing works and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be complaining about baby number four on the way and how you already have no room in your house for all the people living there.”

Diego scowled. “Hey… I understand how it works just fine. I already told you guys the last two weren’t my fault. Lila told me she couldn’t get pregnant while breastfeeding.”

“And you should believe everything your wacko wife says?”

“Yes.” No longer able to contain it, Diego burst out laughing. “Five. This about you, not me, and as much as you want to act like you know it all. When it comes to enjoying the good parts of life, you are still about as fresh out the gate as you can get. Just flirt with a girl. Get to fucking her on the regular, and ta-da, circle of destiny complete. No more death knocking on our doors.”

Five let out heavy sigh. “It isn’t as easy as that.��

Raising his hands in an open palm gesture, Klaus said, “Maybe it is.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea what you are talking about, or what I have been through. Or the complications I am dealing with.”

“We get your hangups, we really do but,” Diego chimed in.

“No, you don’t!”

“Then tell us.”

“It’s her!” Five angrily pointed to the door. “The woman I hired who loathes me for reasons I can’t really blame her for, not when I’ve been such a colossal asshole to her. She’s the one! It has to be the right person for this kid to be the exact same kid I saw, and it’s her. She's the mom!”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Diego!”

When neither Klaus nor Diego stopped staring at him, Five started counting on his hands.

“I know because…

One: The boy had my pocket watch that she also had on her when I got here. He threw it and she dropped it, all within seconds of our timelines merging.

Two: She has his eyes! They were my color green but the shape of hers!”

Five shook his head, his hands shaking he was so upset.

“The way they both look when they smile…” he breathed, “the curve of her lips is the same as his. Him being there with that watch wasn’t a coincidence. For him to be there at all, that means he jumped between timelines. I sure as hell couldn't do that, but if I could have, I know that everything you take with you on that kind of impossible journey would make it that much harder. He brought that watch with him because he was trying to point me in the right direction with her and I didn’t see it until it was too late, and now the only deal I’ll be sealing with his mother if I try to hit on her is going to be a kick in my magical nuts.”

Like a deflating balloon, Five sunk his face into his arms where he had them folded on top of his desk.

“It’s not too late. You guys seem to get along,” Klaus soothed.

Five shook his head no, not bothering to look up.

“Just be nice to her,” Diego unhelpfully added.

“I think it’s a little past that,” Five mumbled.

Chapter Five: Entente

“Say nothing,” Five warned. “I don’t need everyone up my ass. You two knowing is bad enough.”

Tapping your knuckles on the door, Klaus called out extra high pitched, telling you to come in.

“Who’s daddy here?” you said, your smile getting bigger as you asked about the outburst you just overheard from your office next door.

“Five is,” Klaus happily exclaimed.

“Incinerator!” Five barked, wildly motioning at him like he was going to slice his head off with his index finger.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Diego said, his hand mimicking the action of a mouth as he squawked it at Five. “We need to get this show on the road. I’m gonna tell—”

“Diego, so help me,” he hissed, cutting him off.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” you said, your eyebrows drawing together, “but some of us have a meeting in two minutes.”

Five quickly picked up his notes and pushed out of his chair. “Shall we?” he said, directing you to lead the way with an assertive wave of his hand.

You walked in silence to the boardroom, but reaching the door, Five unexpectedly placed his hand on your upper arm, holding you back.

Coming past, Diego smacked his ass. “Don’t look so spooked, kid.”

“I will kill you,” Five replied, his voice as sugary sweet as his fake smile.

Still laughing, Diego joined the others

“What’s so funny?” Lila asked, before shoving him down in his chair, opposite yours, next to the head of the table.

“Five,” he answered.

“When isn’t he? I mean look at him,” she said, eyeing you both up with a curious look before looking back at her husband, giving him an even more devilish smirk than she’d given you. “Why don’t you spank me like that?”

“Oh, I’ll give you a spanking, babe, especially if you keep looking at me like you want to go for a ride on my sweet mustache.”

“LA-LA-LA-LA!” Ben bellowed. “We do not need to hear this, you ASSHOLES!”

“I’m sorry,” Five quietly breathed, directing your attention away from the Hargreeves family daily bickering forum. “What you have done here for me, and for them, I don’t have the words to express how thankful I am.”

He paused, the sincerity in his eyes startling you.

Without hesitation, you reached out, your fingers slowly sliding up the length of black silk leading to his neck. “There,” you said, fixing his knot. “You didn’t seem to be aware you were all twisted.”

Looking humorously befuddled, Five’s Adam’s apple bobbed up then down. “I am not aware of a lot of things going on,” he quietly replied.

“No? You?” you teased.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“You’re welcome. Now, shall we?” you asked, as you gave him the same heavy-handed gesture he’d given you in his office.

~~~

For the next hour and half, Five sat at the head of the table in a board room full of people all appointed by him. Even Elliot was sitting in as the new director of analytics since Diego and Herb and Lila were now acting as supervisors over all operations that either he or you weren’t.

He’d read your notes, telling him what to expect, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lost. Still, each time a question was directed at him that he couldn’t readily answer, you seamlessly stepped in, replying for him. No one was the wiser that he was floundering, but by the end of the day, your smooth handling of him was only adding to how uncomfortable he felt.

Shutting the door to his office, briefcase in hand, Five was about to open a portal to travel forward in time, back to his musty old apartment, but then he heard something.

Turning, he saw your office door was open. He came that way, moving into the light streaming into the hall.

“What is all this?” he questioned, watching you trying to ram a stack of boxes in the corner, your sock covered feet repeatedly slipping across the slick flooring because the tower of cardboard cubes weighed more than you.

“These are all my worldly possessions,” you replied, glancing his way before giving your things one final shove. Bending straight, you placed a hand to your sore lower back, massaging it. “Since the sale of all employee housing and other unused buildings started, and then prepping for you all coming back, I have been a tad bit busy. I haven’t had time to find a new place. So this is it for me right now.”

Taking in your short cotton sleep shorts and well worn t-shirt, when you busted him staring at how your shirt had fallen off your shoulder, Five diverted his gaze to your small meeting table covered with disassembled briefcase parts. “You’ve been sleeping in here? Where?” he asked, sounding very concerned.

“Most of the time, I sleep with my head on my desk, waking up with a tattoo of whatever I was working on the night prior inked on the side of my face,” you said, laughing a little. “This morning, that was the user manual for the new watches that will replace those huge briefcases. The roll out should be ready next week. I just need to get the mockup version down to research and development and they can take it from there.”

Five frowned even more, which made you smile even more. “You figured out how to recalibrate the energy field alternators so they’d fit in something that small?”

“I did, but it was you who invented the briefcases to begin with. I just used your original notes and changed a few things. We have a pretty bracelet version too if you’d rather that over the watch?”

“Huh…” Five looked impressed, and at a loss of words.

When he didn’t move from the threshold of your door, you took pity on him. “Would you like to have a look?” You gestured to the scattering of tubes and sapphire-colored vials of glowing liquid energy that he at some point down the road created to mimic what he naturally produced when he time traveled.

Coming in, Five set his briefcase down and started to look over your work.

“I think the watch version will be just fine,” he said. “Thank you for fixing this one for me. Seems you are very good at fixing things I can’t figure out.” As you looked down at the silver chain hooked to his vest, he smirked.

“Watch it is,” you said, getting more and more flushed as he rocked back on his heels, his hands fiddling in his pants pockets as if daring you to look just a little lower.

“Can we talk?” he asked, breaking the awkward tension, but also worrying you with the way his cocky smile instantly evaporated.

“Ah… Sure.” Heading to your desk, you removed the garment bags hanging over one of the two chairs co-workers usually sat in. Sitting down in the chair across from him as he lowered himself in the spot you cleared, you said, “What’s on your mind?”

“What would you say if I told you, that when it comes to me needing your help, the complexity of things I asked you to do so far only touched the tip of the iceberg when compared to what I’m about to ask next?”

“I’d say we need a drink,” you laughed.

“I’d say yes to that,” he said, the tiniest pull at his lips again making his eyes gleam and your cheeks feel warm.

Thankful for a reason to look away, you opened your desk drawer, pulling out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses.

“That’s a good one,” he noted.

You cracked the seal, pouring a few fingers worth for each of you. “I’m sure it is,” you replied. “I heard the boss enjoyed this brand and I was going to give it to him as a welcoming back gift, but he turned out to be a dick, so I kept it.”

You pushed his glass across your desk.

“To bad bosses and putting them in their place,” he suggested, raising his glass.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him overly cutely, clinking his glass with yours. “To telling you off.”

Taking a sip, Five nodded his approval, his grin deepening.

“Speaking of workplace relationships,” he said. “That brings me back to what I need to talk to you about.”

“Go on.” You took another drink.

“I would rather gargle a pinecone than have to say this, but I have no choice. This isn’t just about me and if I live to see another day or not. It’s about my family too.”

You set your glass down, your eyes glued to his. “What do you mean if you get to see another day or not?”

“What I mean is, the only reason my family and I, or any like us, are here is because of something my future kid said to me right before I dropped out of the sky landing in a cake. If he hadn’t paid me a visit, telling me to move my ass and not let The Cleanse eat us, we’d be dead and never been born at all as far as you’d be concerned. Now, if I don’t succeed in producing him, this entire causality loop will disintegrate, my family along with it.”

“The kid you asked about?” you breathed, remembering Five yelling at you in the park about a kid, right before he knocked you on your ass a second time.

“Yeah. That kid. Our kid,” he said.

You started rubbing your temples. “Our kid, you say?”

He nodded.

“And you know I’m a part of this how?”

“There were clues,” he said, rolling his eyes, but not at you. “I stupidly didn’t put any of them together until after I repeatedly insulted your intelligence and unleashed my wounded ego on you.”

“What kind of clues?”

“Big ones, like every part of him I saw was half you, down to the way you are looking at me right now with those pouty lips.”

“I am not pouting.”

“Neither was he.” Five titled his head down, looking at his drink he hadn’t touched since the first taste.

“What are you asking?”

He looked up and laughed weakly. “I think you know.”

“You want me to have a kid with you, so this future person can exist to complete a loophole in time or all of you will be gone-just poof?”

“Yes. But it’s more of a causality loop than a loophole,” he corrected, the hint of his smirk playing up the corner of his mouth.

“That’s it?”

Five leaned forward, setting his glass down a few inches from yours. Sitting back in his chair, he steepled his hands at his chin, his face becoming even more forlorn. “We can do this no-strings attached,” he offered. “I will raise our son alone if that’s your wish, or we can do it together, but you owe me nothing. I will support you either way. It’s all strictly business with this deal.”

“This is not at all what I thought we were going to be talking about,” you said, staring at him, still looking for sign he was fucking with you.

“This is a matter of life and death, and I would never put this on you if it was just me I was worried about,” he said, his guilt evident in the tortured look filling his eyes. “It’s my family and their kids—”

“No, I get it. You mentioned the family thing,” you quickly cut in, holding your hand up as you shut your eyes. The lines in your forehead deepened when you looked back again. “How long do we have… I mean, can I think on it?”

“I don’t know how long. I could have days or even years to get you pregnant.What I do know is, if I don’t do it fast enough and suddenly I’m gone, there will be no going back with a briefcase for a do over. That said… of course you can think on it.”

You said nothing, your eyes darting around your messy desktop.

Five started to get up. “I’m sorry.” The sound of his voice was about as self-deprecating as it could get. “I am not the type to say those two dirty words very often, but with you,” He smiled sadly again, then picked up his briefcase, “it’s something I might as well start every sentence with.”

When you said nothing, Five finally turned his gaze downward, swallowing hard before he opened his mouth again.

“I’m sure I’m the last person you want to procreate with, and there are other less touchy ways of getting this done, but with time of the essence, and with how high the stakes are, I’d prefer if you agree to do this, we do it the old-fashioned way. The odds of it working are higher that way and there is no need to involve anyone else.”

“Makes sense,” you quietly replied, your cheeks flushing as much as his suddenly were.

“You are welcome to sleep on the couch in my office,” he offered, looking around your office again. “The blanket you left me is still in there, and it’s not my place to say it, but I did put you in this situation and I’d feel much better knowing you were in there, not in here, waking up with lines from a boring user manual printed to your pretty face.”

He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

You silently nodded, then Five activated his briefcase, leaving you alone, shaken beyond words.

Chapter Six: Only Fools Rush In

Knocking over your unfinished third glass of Scotch when you accidently threw your hand into it while readjusting your face on the stack of books you’d taken out to reference, you gave in, going to Five’s office to sleep on his couch.

He’d only laid on it once, but when you were doing the same thing, you felt his presence as if he were right there. Everything in your life revolved around Five Hargreeves, and now even your blanket smelled like him, and so did the end pillow you had your head on.

It wasn’t a bad smell. Even passed out and covered in cake, Five smelled good, like a minty warm scent mixed with something earthy and wild. When you cleaned him up, you couldn’t help but notice his prominent jaw that could cut glass, or his shiny dark hair that was as soft as it looked.

Despite a decent place to sleep, all you could do was think about what he wanted you to do with him.

Way before he came in for the day, you were up and out of there. Showering down in the now mostly unused field agent locker rooms, you dressed in your usual modern day pencil skirt and blouse paired with heels, taking a little more time than normal at the mirror.

“Calm down,” you lectured your reflection.

Coming past Five’s open office door a while later, seeing him working alongside Herb at a chalkboard one of them had wheeled in, just breathing normally became a task you’d rather not add to your many others.

Five looked immaculate. He was wearing a new suit-three piece, like his others, but this one was tailored in a way that accentuated everything about him you were trying not to think about.

The figure he cut was full of promise and unimaginable power if he only thought of wielding it. Yet, he was noticeably relaxed in all his movements, everything he did deliberate, down to the way he looked your way for just a second, politely smiling, then went right back to scratching his numbers on the green slate as if you weren't still there staring.

At any second he could disappear, his family, and the young boy he told you about too, and thinking about that devastated you in ways you didn’t even have words or emotions to convey.

Sitting down in The Commission cafeteria hours later, you anxiously watched as Five moved through the line, loading his tray while in conversation with Viktor and Luther.

Nervously tapping your index finger against your milk carton, you waited. The moment he noticed you looking, he came your way.

“Can I join you?” he asked, approaching your empty table.

“Let’s do it,” you blurted.

Five slowly dropped down on the bench across from you. “Yeah?”

“It’s the only option,” you less embarrassingly replied. “I may not have my head wrapped around all of this, but I don’t know what I’d do if all of you suddenly weren’t here anymore. Explaining that to the kids and just… No. It can’t happen. I won’t let it.”

He nodded, letting go of his tray as he sat back.

“When?” he asked, his soft smile and twinkly green eyes filled with relief.

“Now. If you are ready? The sooner we do it, the sooner we know you are all safe, right?”

“Right,” he said, his increasing eagerness showing in the hyperfocus of his cunning eyes as they quickly moved from yours, to the door of the lunch hall, then back again. “Come on.” Getting up, leaving his untouched food where it sat, Five took off.  

He dashed down the busy hall past the lobby area, heading for the stairs.

“Where?” he called out.

“I don’t know?” you breathed back, still trying to catch up.

Heading down the hall towards your offices, seeing the busy flow of people working down at that end of the building, Five stopped in his tracks.

He glanced over at the bathroom door a few doors back in the direction you just came.

Restless looking as before, taking you by the hand, he spun you around like he was leading you in a dance, pulling your back against his chest.

You had no time to recognize that the heat you were feeling wasn’t just from his body suddenly pressed to yours. Static energy sizzled, the light from it so bright your eyes automatically flew shut as he blinked you away with him.

Appearing with your feet back on solid floor, your breath whooshing out of your pounding chest, the harsh smell of cleaners filled your nose.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a toilet and a wall in front of you.

Once sure you weren’t going to topple over, Five stepped back, the sound of the bathroom stall door behind him bumping into his back before it creaked closed.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice so low behind your ear that only you could hear it over the sound of the person washing their hands at the sinks.

“Yes,” you whispered.

There was a soft turning of the metal as Five latched the door.

Hinges squealed and two seconds later, the heavy wooden door to the hallway banged close.

~~~

Approaching you from behind, Five’s cock twitched. Just looking at you like this was enough to make it happen. He palmed himself through the fabric of his pants, an unexpected thrust of his hips threatening to topple him forward. 

His entire body was so alert it was vibrating, the desire in his loins building to a fever pitch.

His trembling hand brushed against your hair, brushing it aside so he could see the side of your face, the other working to get his zipper down. 

You let out a surprised gasp when he suddenly forced one leg between your thighs, parting them easily.

Having freed himself from his pants, feeling your whole-body tense as he pressed up against you, his head swimming with lust, he launched at your throat. Biting at your soft skin hard enough to sting, you reactively cried out.

“Quiet,” he growled, then thrust himself against you again, his fingers dragging the fabric of your skirt up your legs.

Sliding his palm down your stomach, Five pushed your panties down with the motion of his fingers clumsily running between your folds, a quick smile spreading across the back of your neck when he felt how wet you were.

His hand at your back, pushing you forward until your feet fell out of your slingback heels, you were forced up on your tippy toes with your hands falling into the wall behind the toilet. In one forward thrust, he buried himself, his body crushing against your back.

Feeling himself throbbing inside you, Five began to move, his fingers pulling away from your clit so he could put them on your hip, opposite his other hand. Rapidly thwapping his pelvis against the erotic feeling of your squishy butt cheeks, he bit at your shoulder again.

Fingers digging in, he yanked you towards him with each thrust. Then, going harder, his heels coming off the floor, he bottomed out.

You cried out, his hand just as fast flying off your hip, covering your mouth.

Pulling your head back to his shoulder, Five’s thrusts became rougher, more insistent. Groaning into your ear, his ragged gasps signaled his rapidly approaching climax.

In one fluid thrust he withdrew almost all the way out, then sunk back in as he came, finishing with a few shuttering jerks of his hips. 

His hands slowly slipped from your mouth to rest at your throat as he fought to catch his breath. 

You didn't move until he backed away, letting your skirt drop back into place.

Hot come started trailing hot down your inner thigh.

Sounds from the hall filled the tiled room with voices, then the door closed again. Footsteps moved across the bathroom, the metal partition surrounding you rattling as one of The Commission’s staff enclosed themselves in the stall one away from yours.

Burning from the force of Five’s entry, your entire body shaking, you started to turn around. Refusing to meet your eye, or even acknowledge you were there, as soon as Five had his pants fastened, he blinked away.

~~~

When you reached Five’s office a few minutes later, he was standing inside, looking over his mail.

Marching over, you said, “When I said let’s do this, I didn’t mean I wanted it like this!”

“What did you mean like this?” he hotly shot back, throwing down his letter opener.

“I have feelings! I am not a fuck doll!” you fired back at him. “Why did you just leave me like that?” Five bristled, his nostrils flaring. “I fucked you. That’s what we agreed we are doing, remember? I can’t help that you wanted it right then and there. Your pussy was clenching on my dick so hard, there’s no way you didn’t get off. What more do you want from me? I did my part.”

You slapped him.

Holding his cheek, Five let out a shallow breath, a clear sense of confusion in his stunned eyes.

“You don’t just fuck someone like that and disappear!”

“What’d you expect me to do?” he yelled back just as Elliot walked in, quickly pivoting back out the door the second he heard the still very intimidating man he once thought was a scary little alien boy going off on you.

“I don’t know what I expected, but I… I just thought…” Feeling your eyes prickle, you looked away. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t care.” “Do you want me to care?” “You are such a prick,” you muttered.

By the time Five’s thoughts had merged together to form a defense, you were gone, slamming the door behind you.

Chapter 7: Public Displays

“I didn't ask for this!” Five growled, about to come after you as he swung his door open to find his brother standing outside, his hand raised to knock.   

“What,” Diego asked, “having a nice conversation with a real woman?”

“No!” he barked, stomping past, heading to your office, but right away, he saw Dot at your desk, not you. Coming back out, he raked a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“Did you tell her?” Diego pushed.

“Yes, I told her.”

“Did she say yes to jumping your little bones?”

Five breathed in, his teeth clenching as his shoulders bounced.

Diego grinned. “You banged her already, didn't you?” “Why don't you irritate Lila and leave me alone.”

“Oh! You did!” Diego started pumping his fist. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about… I knew you wouldn’t let us down, and with the rest, I’m just messing with you, man. Lighten up. That’s part of your problem.”

Five clapped his hands together brandishing a fake smile. “Nobody said I had a problem but you, and whatever this is, is over. I am in no mood to fight with you.”

“This was not a fight. And if it was, I’d win.” Diego threw his arm around Five’s shoulder, pulling him back inside his office. Letting him go once inside, he said, “And sure, nobody said you had a problem, but that girl’s teary face did when she just passed me.”

“She was crying?”

“She was doing that thing women do when they are trying not to.”

“Shit.”

“Five,” Diego said, in a very big brotherly tone, “for so long you’ve had to evaluate everything under the brutal terms of survival, all things either being irrelevant or not, but with this one, maybe that’s not the way to go. Kill the emotionally stunted old man shit. I know you have the hots for her. She’s perfect for you, which I’m betting is why you hired her, that, and she’s way smarter than you, which again goes back to why I know you are being a dick.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I don’t? So, you didn’t just do something stupid?”

“It’s so much more than that,” Five said, his eyes turning even more tormented looking as he looked away, then back again, doing his best to keep it together.

Diego smiled. “You are a good person, man. You can fix this.”

Sad and angry, Five said nothing, and he continued to say nothing to Diego about it, or you for the rest of the day, and then the next, and then the next. You kept doing your job, of course, communicating with him when necessary, but that was it, and it was killing him. 

Diego was right. He had to do something. It was his fault-again.

~~~

Day four, Five couldn’t take it anymore. 

Lightly tapping on your door frame, you looked up from your desk. He raised one of the two coffee cups he was holding. Offering a smile. “Two sugars, one cream?”

Your pen slowed to a stop. “Why would you know that?”

He came in. “I know that because, over the last few days I’ve been asking the girls around here all sorts of things about you, and because of my persistent inquiries with them and pretty much everyone else around here, I’m fairly certain the entire building knows their boss is falling hard for you.”

Taking the coffee from his outstretched hand, your mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. “That is the last thing I wanted to do.”

Slowly standing, you asked, “Can we go for a walk?”

“I would love that,” Five quietly replied.

Once outside, strolling across the open green area between The Commission's main buildings, taking sips of his coffee to fill the silence between you, Five waited, watching you for signs of what to do.

“I suppose we can’t go far,” you finally said. “If we ventured too off campus we’d probably start a flurry of chatter with the good citizens of this quaint little town.”

Five smiled, “True. But if you wanted to change into your poodle skirt, and I could dig up some of my frumpy old man trousers somewhere, then maybe we could snag a milkshake down at the drugstore. I’d even give you some nickels for the jukebox since you’re my favorite girl.”

“I like you in your old man trousers, and I’m not your favorite girl. But nice try,” you laughed.

“I get to decide who my favorite girl is, not you and I’d like you in anything,” he retorted. “And hey…” He frowned. “When did you see me looking like the crazy old bastard I really am?”

“In your files and footage on the Infinite Switch board. I did my research. I take my job very seriously, as you know.” You gave him an even more teasing looking grin, then added, “I can’t wait to see you with that cute mustache again.”

“You can’t?”

Taking Five’s hand in yours, you pulled him over to a shady bench under the fluttering leaves of a towering oak tree.

Once you had him sitting, you let go, watching his fingers fidgeting with unease as they came around his cup with the others, gripping it way too tight.

“Five…”

He looked up, meeting your gaze.

“I was hurt about what happened in the bathroom because you are right,” you started. “What you did, the way you did it… Everything about you and that was hot. With just that moment of amazing sex, you left me ruined and it really scared me.”

“It scared me too,” he admitted, his soft eyes searching yours. “That’s why I left.”

“All I wanted was for you to hold me,” you said. “Anything but leave.”

“The last thing I wanted was to leave but I thought you’d only agreed to do this because you felt like there was no other choice. I asked you to have a child with me, but that didn’t mean you had to be with me more than that..”

“Five…” you said, setting down your cup so you could take his hand in yours again. “The moment I was hired, everything I learned about you further proved what an amazing person I already thought you were. I was fighting an embarrassing schoolgirl level crush on you even before you got here, and since, it's only gotten worse despite you being a jerk most of the time. That’s how much you mean to me.”

“It’s not just me feeling this way?”

“No. It’s not just you,” you said, as he lovingly caressed the underside of your wrist with the tips of his fingers.

“Can we start over?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his emerald eyes about as worried looking as you’d ever seen them.

“We already are,” you said, his nervousness distracting you from your nerves.

Moving your entwined hands into Five’s lap, his breath hitched, his air intake stopping entirely when your warm palm slowly moved over his crotch. 

With only a peck at first, your lips meeting his, Five whimpered against your mouth, his cock growing heavy and warm under your hand.

After only allowing yourself to feel the desperation of his kiss for just a moment longer, you pulled back, smiling at him. “You are ready to go just like that, aren’t you?” 

“It’s my secret superpower,” he said, already trying to kiss you again, his tongue dipping inside your mouth, exploring.

“Just the smell of your body is enough to get me hard,” he groaned, having to break away to breathe, as you massaged your hand harder over the bulge in his pants. 

Loving this, you leaned into Five more, placing extra soft brushes of your lips just below his ear.

“We need to either stop or we need to go somewhere, now!” he warned, the pitch of his strained voice so funny, you laughed, the heat of your breath against his throat enough to make him whimper like a puppy all over again. 

“Get us out of here, and I won’t stop,” you said, in between kisses along his jawline.

Your discarded coffees spilling from the force of air filling the vacuum of space you’d just been sitting in, in less than a second, you were clumsily standing between buildings, only partially hidden from any onlookers by a bush full of spring flowers.

Falling into Five as he leaned his back against the brick wall behind him, you raised your eyebrows in question.

“When the blood flow to my brain is in short supply, like it is right now, it’s best I don’t try to blink somewhere I can’t already see,” he frantically explained before smashing his lips against yours again.

Working his pants down as fast as you could, you reached inside his pants, gripping his naked cock in your hand.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his hips helplessly thrusting.

His eyes becoming even more heavy-lidded, you started to move the outer skin of his shaft over the harder core. 

Your other hand lowering, you cupped Five’s balls through the bunched material draping off his tensed thighs. His heartbeat already pounding in his ears, when you gave him a little squeeze, his scrotum pulsed to the same rhythm, his mind becoming even more clouded.

“Yes, do that,” he groaned.

“At night, do you think about us doing things like this?” you questioned as you smirked. “Because I do, writhing on your couch with my fingers between my legs?” 

“Ffffuck yes, I think about this!” he croaked as you slid your hand up his cock, swirling your finger round and round over the glistening pleasure seeping out of him.

“How exactly do you think about me, Five?” you pushed.

He shook his head, back and forth, overwhelmed with your touch as he was by the things you were saying.

“Please tell me,” you encouraged, feeling more empowered by the second.

“I think about you underneath me,” he gasped. “I see your hands gripping my sheets, and I hear you moaning my name as my cock fills your sweet little pussy full of load after load of my come.”

“Tell me more…” you said, your smile broadening.

“I fuck my hand, pretending I’m inside of you, every fucking single morning and night. The way you smile at me, I want to bite your lips so fucking bad, and the way your body looks in your tight skirts! I want to devour you!”

Five’s breaths were coming as quick gasps and there was no point in asking him if what you were doing was right. His face pressed against your shoulder as your hand moved faster, his soft shuddering not letting up the whole time.

The sound of voices passed by, but there was no indication that whoever else was out enjoying the sunny afternoon looked your way.

Your hand slicked, moving easily over Five with the silkiness of his bountiful pre-cum, even more hot wetness began to coat your hand. At your neck Five desperately kissed you as he sucked in gulps of air. 

His whole-body trembling, you ran your fingernails through the back of his hair as you slowly stroked him through the final tremors of his release. 

“Holy fuck I loved everything about that, but it was not at all conducive to us achieving our goal,” he finally said, smiling as he sheepishly peered at you from under the dark curtain of hair falling over his sleepy eyes.

“No, it was not, but that was the point. This is not just about that. This was about us starting over, which I think we just did. I want you and you want me and together we are going to do our best to make a superpowered little family,” you said.

Five laughed. “You really are smarter than me, and along with this being more proof of that, I think most of my remaining dignity just went down the drain with that crazy shit I just said to you, and the rest was just obliterated after that when I jizzed all over your skirt. A gentleman might have fought you off harder, and not done that,” he said as you burrowed into his warmth, with your head resting on his shoulder.

“He might,” you agreed, “but I think we both know that you are no gentleman.”

The softness of Five’s expression as you peeked up at him only made you want to see the kind of pleasure you just drew out of him all over again. All the harshness you knew he was capable of had washed away, leaving his eyelids heavy and his wetted lips parted in silence as he held you like he never wanted to let go.

Knowing you couldn’t stay there forever, a few minutes later, watching you clean you hand off, seeing that not only when he blew his load, some of it got on your shirt too, a little of the worry had found its way back into Five’s contented expression, but you were quick to address it, wiping the milky white off with your finger before sticking it in your mouth.

 “There,” you said, pulling your cleaned finger out for him to see. “All better. Now be a good boy the rest of the day and pay my next dry-cleaning bill, and I might let you take me to dinner tonight.”

Chapter 8: Taking Care of Business

Finishing your workday, you changed into a new sundress, one that you never had the chance to wear until now. On pins and needles, springing around your office, you tried to pick up your hopeless mess, every minute Five took to get there making your heart race faster.

As you promised, if he was good the rest of the day, which he was, shortly after you saw several of his family members come out of his office, Five strolled in, a single flower in his hand, only it wasn’t a rose or anything traditional like that. It was a bloom that looked just like the ones on the bush he’d blinked behind so you could man-handle him.

Coming your way, he extended the fluffy white blossom. Taking it from him, holding it to your nose, the summery perfume enchanted your senses as much as his sweet smile. 

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded, yes.

Giving you a look that made your panties instantly wet, after a few buttons pushed on his new watch, you were off.

~~~

Like any first date, yours was filled with nervous jokes to hide insecurities, but it was exactly what you both needed to circle back to where you should have started to begin with.

As you already knew, Five was complicated. He had been through unimaginable things, some you knew about, some you didn’t. No matter where the conversation took you, when it came to his past, he was forthright, and everything new you learned only made you respect him and hurt for him more.

Five took his time asking you questions, listening patiently as you told him about your life, from the start to now. In those parts of the night, his smile never seemed to fade.

“Have you considered a day off might be in order if you are ever going to move out of your office?” he teased when you got to the part about the last few weeks.

“Yes,” you said, after swallowing another delicious drink of the Bordeaux he ordered to go with the herb-crusted roasted lamb on your plates. “But my boss would be lost without me for even a minute, so it looks like I’ll be stuck sleeping on the couch in his office indefinitely.”

“I’d rather you slept in my bed,” he silkily replied, his smile reddened even more seductively by the rich sip of wine he just licked off his lips.

You rubbed your foot along his lower pant leg, tickling your toes up and down like you’d been doing most of your dinner.

Eyes darkening, Five reached across the table, pulling your hand into his. Like every time he blinked with you so far, you had almost no warning it was coming.

Bouncing down on his mattress, propelling himself on top of you, Five’s fingers dug into your ribs, tickling with no mercy. 

“Five! Stop!” you cried, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

“No! You’ve been fucking with me all night!”

“I have not!”

“What do you call that move you did with your foot nudging my dick while I was ordering?” he growled, kissing your neck in-between his breathy love bites.

“My shoes! Our bill!” you complained, realizing your heels were still laying under the table at the restaurant.

“I’ll get you new ones and I already paid the bill. Now hold still so I can dominate you,” Five gleefully demanded, as you squirmed.

When he finally let up, so you could catch your breath, you got a better look around his bedroom. It was small. There was the queen bed you were on, a side table next to it with a lamp on top, and piles of books on the floor everywhere. Other than a bathroom door to your right and what appeared to be an equally small living room, just outside the door, with a kitchen area attached, that was Five’s home.

You loved all of it, from his boyishly blue plaid comforter, to the worn but cozy look of his single sad recliner.

You put your hand in the middle of his chest, lifting yourself on your elbow to gaze at him. Turning his fingers around yours, Five drew you closer with his arm, sitting you up with him. 

In a much quieter game, he let his fingers play up your spine, each little bump like a run on a ladder he was climbing up your back. 

Enchanted by the way he is looking as you were by his featherlight touch; your breath quickened all over again.

With a smile, licking his lips, Five slipped his hand down the back of your dress, loosening your bra until it fell out of his way. His dark hair brushing your chin, his mouth came down, gently covering your nipple through your thin cotton bodice. Hot and wet, he kissed you there, soiling the fabric as he sucked, then kissed again. 

After a moment, he turned his attention to your other breast, the innocence of his expression as he enjoyed you that way so sweet you could cry.

On your knees already, raising your arms at his insistence, Five took your dress up over your hips, then over your head, tossing it aside. 

Kissing you full on the mouth, your bare body trembled under his hands as he tugged at the thin straps at your hips, pulling your underwear down until he couldn’t. 

Breaking away to kick out of them, he said, “I love these tiny pink panites. I hope the stripper you stole them from doesn’t ask for them back.”

Laughing and fully exposed, there was little shame left in you, but there was still shyness. You lowered your gaze, and Five took care of that by giving you hundreds of kisses until you became completely unaware of anything but how you felt about him.

You held the back of his neck as you kissed, the longer ends of his hair tickling the back of your hand. In turn, Five brought one hand back to your breasts. He held the weight of them in his palm as he squeezed and rubbed you and made small, short sounds of enjoyment into your mouth as he did so. 

His smile was on the darker side of playful as he caught you by the shoulders and brought you down on his bed. There was no demand in how he positioned himself next to you. His hair a chaos of brown from you messing with it, he reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing your cheek. “I'll be sorry for treating you the way I have been until the day I die.”

“You are forgiven,” you whispered as you pressed your face into his left palm. You pulled at his sleeves, pulling the warmth of his body over your chilled skin.

Five hissed between his teeth when you took your adoring kisses sideways, to his jaw, then his throat. When the tip of your tongue came out, tasting him, his hands tightened on your arms, and a soft sound of surprise crept out of his throat. 

His fiery gaze looked almost apologetic when he pulled back. You gently touched his face and Five closed his eyes as though he couldn't bear to look at you while you explored his lips with your thumb. “Your affection is more than I would have ever asked for,” he breathed, before kissing the tip of your finger.

Opening his eyes, there was that reflection of sadness, something that ran so deeply and painfully in him that it only made you more determined to change that. 

As your hands moved down the sides of his vest, his drifted to your thighs, rubbing slowly.

“I’m wearing way too many clothes,” he cutely laughed when you tried to get your hands under his shirt but were hardly able to move them once you did due to the tight fit of his vest.

“Yes, you are,” you giggled. “We need to do something about that.”

In a burst of light, Five vanished and reappeared just as fast, his naked body flawlessly pale as he pushed his groin against yours, his hard cock glistening as it bobbed against your lower belly.

“How’d you do that!” you gasped.

He smirked. “If I explain it, then I have zero surprises left.”

Reaching down, taking himself in hand, this time when Five slipped inside you, the feel of him slowly filling you was enough to make your eyes water.

Grabbing for his shoulders, you hooked your ankles around his waist, your body simultaneously clenching around him as it tried to resist his entry.

Five stopped, his face full of worry.

“Keep going,” you urged, digging your feet into his lower back.

Pulling himself out, undulating his swollen tip at your entrance a few times, Five slipped his cock back in just as slowly, both of your eyes crushing closed the sensation of it felt so good. Doing it again, he accidentally slipped out all the way. Fumbling between you, grasping at his swaying cock, he lowered himself over you even more, letting out a guttural curse of pleasure as he entered you again.

Pushing his hands under your butt, he hoisted you up, rocking his hips against yours in earnest as he tried to kiss you, his lips grazing yours with each downward thrust.

Head getting pushed back further and further into his pillows, you began to match his urgent movements. Working together, his sharp thrusts ignited something inside both of you. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders, you started to see stars, everything inside you suddenly exploding when you felt the heat of his release.

Crying out this name, every exhalation streaming from your lips matched the throbbing of your orgasm that was not letting up as Five kept thrusting, the sound of him fucking you as sinful as it was wet.

When Five did pull out, your back arched on the bed, the emptiness of losing him and the sight of his rigid cock still ready to go shocking you as much as the darkness in his eyes.

Without a word, he flipped you on your stomach.

As Five came down over you from behind, his spent cock easily slid back in, and just as fast, he started to rut, rough and needful, punishing your quivering walls all over again.

You squirmed, the feeling of it too much, but Five pressed his hand against your upper back, pressing you against his bed, forcing you to arch into him as he kept at it, fucking you at an unrelenting pace. 

A minute in, he wasn’t slowing, his thrusts sliding into you so deeply the force of it kept causing his headboard to bang into the wall

“Five!” you cried as you pulled at his bedding.

“I’m not stopping until I fill this fluttering cunt!” he growled.

Not even close to being over your first shivered round of aftershocks, he did just that, emptying himself in erratic spurts and uncoordinated thrusts.

Prying his hands from your hips, Five rolled you on your back. Blanketing you with his body, he started placing delicate touches of his lips on your cheeks, his long eyelashes brushing along your skin with the softness of an angel, while his fingers worked between your legs, gathering his leaking come so he could carefully and repeatedly push it back inside you until you surrendered to him all over again.

Helplessly quivering, you buried your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair as he took his kisses to your neck, then added a few final nibbles to your ear. Five seemed incapable of moving further than that, the tenderness of how he was nuzzling you, echoed in the throbbing fullness you felt.

When he finally sat back, it was only to reposition himself alongside you. He rested his cheek against the top of your head, squeezing his arms around you tightly. 

Feeling his warmth mingle with yours as you snuggled into him, you heard him yawn.

“Tired of me already? Was that a sign you want me to go?” you teased.

“This business we just did is hardly what I would call tiresome, and you aren’t going anywhere. I am not done with you yet,” he joked, but his hold not letting up meant he wasn’t actually kidding.

As you touched his hair, searching through it with your fingers. His limbs relaxed the longer you kept at it, his hand placed over your belly circling slower and slower. Your feet wrapped around his shins locking him to you even more surely, and with it, his breathing slowed along with his hand coming to a stop.

“Are you falling asleep, Five?” you softly asked.

His chest moved up and down against your side along with his quiet laugh. “Sleep is for the blameless, and I am not that. If you can wait a few minutes, I’m happy to give you round two with a fresh lesson on what you're dealing with since it seems you forgot already?”

“I think you already made your point that you are the cutest fiend to ever walk the Earth,” you laughed. “It sounds fun, but I doubt either of us has enough steam for that lesson right now no matter what you claim.”

“Honey, I am like a jackrabbit,” Five chuckled. “For all you know, I can bring you to unmanageable heights of ecstasy with this next one.”

You gave a playful tug of his hair.

Five nudged the top of your head with his face. It wasn't a kiss. But it didn't need to be. The way he was holding you, you knew that everything had changed. 

“We can go back to taking care of business in the morning,” you assured.

“There's always the morning,” he agreed, slurring slightly.

Soon, listening to this heartbeat step into a cadence of sleep, feeling the warmth of Five’s body next to yours, you drifted off in peace along with him, and you did the same thing together every night after that.

Chapter 9: Tiresome Work

“Are you free to chat for a few minutes?” you asked, gently clicking the large door closed behind you as you entered Five’s office.

“I’m always free for you,” he said, looking up from his desk.

Coming around next to him, you propped your bottom up on his mess of papers.

“How’s your day?” you asked, your eyes traveling from his soft pink lips, down to his neck, then to the relaxed motion of him spreading his legs as he leaned back in his chair.

“It’s getting better now that you’re here,” he replied, followed by a mischievous grin.

Doing your best to remember why you’d come in, the reason for it in your hand, you extended him your notebook. “Would you be willing to look this over? I think the numbers look good, but I’d appreciate a second brain on this one just in case I missed something.”

“I’ll look at it, but I doubt you missed anything. You never do,” he replied, his eyes smoldering. He patted his knee. “Why don’t you sit here and let me entertain you. You need a break.” 

Your cheeks instantly flushed, and the more Five gave you that predatory look the worse it got.

You didn’t move so he raised a brow.

“Come here,” he hotly demanded.

Hopping up, Five quickly snatched your waist, pulling you to him faster than you were already coming.

“We are supposed to be working,” you scolded, as he trapped you between his legs with his hand tickling up your back.

“We covered this already. This is us working,” he said, following your every movement with wolfish fixation. 

Trying to rattle him as much as he was flustering you, you broke away, half-heartedly attempting to organize the millions of items on his desk.

“That sign you are playing with says I’m the boss! Now get over here!” he angrily insisted, but not without laughing.

Giving you the sexiest smile you’d seen on him yet, one that was all dimple and shiny white teeth, Five patted his knee again.

Feeling silly, you perched your bottom on his knee.

With hardly anything between you and his finely woven pants, the bones of Five's knee purposefully pressed into you.

“Now then, isn’t that better?” he taunted as he leaned forward, his lips grazing the side of your neck.

“Five Hargreeves, you are a bad man.”

“And you like it,” he coolly replied with his hand coming up to fondle your breasts.

The room felt like it was on fire already, but everything got warmer when his fingers parted, slicing across the peaks in your blouse, softly catching on your nipples before his warm palms slid over them again.

Feeling like a drunken sailor, you swayed in his lap. Trying to steady yourself, you extended the tip of your shoe to the floor, but Five nudged his knee into you with a little lift of his foot, his hands locking you in your seat to prevent your escape.

Plucking at you until your nipples were visible through the delicate fabric covering them, your small whines and the wetness spreading between your legs were met with his cocky grunt of approval.

“Five, there are dozens of people outside that door,” you said, shutting your eyes tight when he gave you a pinch.

“So,” he deadpanned.

The second you tried to get up again, he let out a growl, simultaneously biting into the crest of your shoulder, the feel of it all making your head roll back on your shoulders as your next broken moan filled his entire office.

“Never mind. Please don’t stop,” you breathed, as his magical lips pressed against the edge of your jaw.

“I wasn’t going to,” he shushed. “This is the most important thing I have left to do here, I say fuck these numbers you brought me. You’re the one who should’ve always been checking my math. My sole purpose now that I have you to do the brain work is fucking you.”

“Five,” you moaned as you shifted your weight on his thigh, desperate to relieve the pressure.

“Mmmm?” he replied.

“You are driving me crazy.”

“I know, but I need to get this baby inside you and seal this deal,” he insisted, kissing you with even more vigor, his mouth sucking at your skin as he moved his hand down between your legs, massaging your swollen folds through your underwear.

“Yes. I understand that but…but we maybe already did seal that deal,” you stuttered. “And if that really is what you are trying to do right now again anyway, it can’t be in here.”

With another quick nip at your throat, Five said, “This is my office, and I intend to use it in any way I please. I earned it, damn it!” 

“You did earn it,” you said with a breathy laugh, shifting your weight again, trying to turn towards him and put your feet on the floor. “But we should at least lock the door.”

“Stay put!” he barked, but it had no bite to it because he was trying to paint a silky line with his tongue along the shell of your ear.

Biting your lower lip next to distract you, flipping his hand out from under your skirt, Five pinched your firm nubs of flesh again, not with pain, but with shocking effect. You gasped as a burning jolt of electricity detonated between your thighs. 

“Please hurry,” you weakly begged him, the pressure of his knee under you both good and bad at that point.

His fingers gripped under your jaw, moving your face towards his. “There’s no hurry, honey. Daddy is the boss here and everyone knows about us anyway,” he whispered, velvety soft.

You opened your mouth to what, at this point, and with that daddy comment, you didn’t even know anymore, but Five was quick to cover your mouth, his index finger pushing your lips open.

“Suck it like you want to suck me,” he directed as his other hand moved up, slowly opening the buttons on your shirt, stopping when he had enough of them undone to get his hand inside.

“Just like that,” he softly hummed as he watched you caressing the length of his finger with your lips and tongue. Breathing in, his nose brushed along your hairline. “Such a good girl.”

Pulling his finger from your mouth, he reached under your skirt, his wet finger trailing up your thigh, nudging under your panties.

“God, I needed this,” Five adorable whimpered, his thumb pressing down on your pubic bone as his finger slipped inside you, slowly pumping in and out.

“Oh, oh-fuu-ah-kkkkk! Faster!” you helplessly yelped as you ground down your weight against his leg, your hips frantically jutting into his hand.

His finger pumped faster. “Come on, baby. Come for me,” he encouraged,

Your ability to formulate thoughts going all to hell, nothing but gibberish spilled from your mouth. “Mmmm-ahhh-fff, yyyy-e-sssss.”

Adjusting himself, spreading his legs wider to accommodate the tent his erection was making in his pants, he said, “More?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

The rhythm of his hand changed, and a second finger added to his thrusting while his thumb kept fondling your clit with enough pressure to make your head spin.

Gripping the front of Five’s vest in a lame attempt to ground yourself, he began placing a path of kisses along the side of your neck. “My heart beats for you,” he said, his voice deep with longing that matched the look in his worshipful eyes.

Your legs spread embarrassingly wide, the backs of your heels knocking against his shin, you rocked on his knee, your building climax pulsing to a roaring scream. Five kept going at it, not letting up the pace or intensity of his finger repeatedly hooking inside you, drawing out moan after moan.

Your eyes droopy, he grinned at you like this was the best thing he’d ever done while at work, which was ridiculous considering his desk was littered with all the plans he was putting in place to fend off any future apocalyptic events that could threaten the existence of humanity.

Blowing your mind and making you come so hard you couldn’t see straight was hardly important compared to all that, but he didn't seem to think so. He was so beautiful, you could have sat there all day, dreamy admiring the shape of his eyes and their soft lines of happiness, but when he withdrew his fingers, it shot you back into reality.

At the sound of Diego walking by, talking loudly, and Lila smart talking back at him, you instantly started to get up.

Smirking, Five got up too while sucking his newly freed digits in his mouth, licking them clean.

Weak with orgasmic afterglow, you pressed your face against his collar, contentedly breathing in his warmth. “Let’s go somewhere where I can take care of you,” you said, nuzzling him.

“I need you to take care of me right here, love. I have a good feeling about this spot,” he whispered.

You were crushed speechless all over again by the way Five called you love, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway if you found a way to argue because his mouth molded to yours, opening it with the force of his kiss, so he could use his tongue to tangle and tease you into submission.

When Five did relinquish ownership of your mouth, it was only to spin you around, so your backside was facing him again. From there, he released you and started fumbling with his clothing, the sound of his zipper coming down just before the metal of his belt clanked to the floor.

You reached for the desk in anticipation, thinking he was going to lay you out, chest down over his mess of papers so he could fuck you from behind, but instead, his hand latched onto your waist as he pulled you back with him, towards his desk chair.

“Show me you love me the way I love you,” Five breathed, the back of his legs bumping his seat as his cock prodded between the legs.

You hesitated, not sure what you were supposed to do, so Five plopped himself down in his chair, clarifying when he said, “Sit down.”

The pointed toe of his dress shoe rubbed against the inside of your ankle, further making his intent known. His hands brushed along your thighs, lifting your skirt, then he pushed your panties down.

Reaching back, you put your hands on his armrests. Lowering your body, he stopped you short, hovering over him.

The heat of his length ran along, gathering the wetness he’d already drawn from you. His swollen tip moving back and forth had you holding your breath and the tightening coil of desire inside you clenching with renewed need.

After several more passes, Five lined himself up. “This time, I’m going to fuck you so deep, there’s no way my boys won’t be able to stick their landing.”

“Oh, my God, Five,” you laughed.

“Please, honey, sit down!” he frantically laughed back.

Smiling like a fool, you began to lower yourself over him again, but almost right away as he entered you, it felt like you were being impaled by the girth of his rock-hard shaft, and you had to stop. “Fi-fff -vvvv- ” you sputtered. “It’s too much like this I—”

“I know, just go slow, I’ve got you,” he said, sure to keep his hands under your bottom to support some of your weight.

Giving you all the time you needed, Five shifted back, his chair creaking from his weight. His hiss of satisfaction when your body took in more of his cock was met by your teeth stabbing into your bottom lip.

“Fuuuuuck…” Five groaned, echoing your silent sentiment exactly.

Forcing yourself to take it, adjusting your body down on him until you were sitting all the way down in his lap like he requested, you were shaking like a leaf.

His lips pressed under your ear. “I am hopelessly in love with you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Five,” your voice trembled as he buried his face against your neck.

“Fuck me,” he ordered in a maddingly cocky tone.

Knowing full well he was smiling, you started rocking your hips. Almost right away, to your delight, Five placed his hands over yours on his arm rests, his knuckles going white.

His breaths started to rush out of his mouth, moist against your throat. When you started bringing your body up and down, sliding his cock in and out, deep then shallow, he fell back, breathing a quiet chorus of profanities.

“You like that?” you cheekily asked, bouncing on his cock in a way that felt so good for you, you never wanted the feeling to end.

“Fuck yes I like it!” he groaned. “Why the fuck did I wait until today to make you sit on my dick like this. We should have been doing it this way, every day, three times a day!” 

Working your bottom up and down, taking him in and out, faster and faster, his head flopped back against his leather chair.

Smiling, just thinking about the fucked-out face Five was probably making, you said, “Five, I loved you even before I met you. There’s no one else in this world I love as much as you.”

“I can think of someone,” he groaned, “but I’m okay with that since that little charmer is going to be the son I am going to give you right now.” Kissing your shoulder, he grabbed you by the curve of your waist, pressing his fingers to your stomach, increasing the pressure inside you.

Jolted with each thrust of his hips meeting your ass, his hand at your waist lifted you up and down, allowing his cock to slide into you as deep as it would go.

“You’re mine now!” he growled.

His teeth sank into the crest of your shoulder blade.

“Oh, fuuuuuckkkk,” you cried, as he hummed his reverberated delight, his teeth marking you as if you weren’t already his.

Before the pain of his love bite became too much Five let go, his breaths coming fast as his sharp grunts. “Are you getting close? Because I can go at any time,” he huffed, ruthlessly railing you, his heels digging down on the floor as he thrust his hips up and down.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, unable to say more as you struggled to stay over him and not melt into a puddle of mushy bones in his lap. 

Your body shuddered, your breaths not enough. Your body reactively clamped down on his cock, repeatedly spasming. The second Five felt it, he filled you, his own body jerking and twitching as he erratically slowed to a stop and sank back in his seat.

His grip loosened as he let you down in his lap. His cock throbbing inside you, the final pulses of his release and the burning of your thighs overwhelming both your senses.

You were on fire, and the sweat on his brow proved that he’d just pushed himself to the point of glorious ruin too.

“I wasn’t expecting that when I came in here,” you quietly laughed, laying against him, your chest heaving with his as you reached back to run your fingers through his hair.

Just then, the door burst open. You jolted upright, but Five’s arm instantly flexed, refusing to let you off his lap.

“Hey, Five?” Luther said, stepping in the door, still looking behind him as he took the package one of the mail room staffers handed him as they whisked by. “Oh! Hey, guys,” he corrected, looking up, seeing you and nothing but the upper half of your bodies. 

Coming closer, thinking Five was just showering you with affection like he almost always was, Luther said, “Sloane wanted me to invite you to—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes locked on the sight of his brother’s lap as it came into full view.

Your skirt was hiding the worst of it, but with Five’s pants tangled around his ankles, there was no way Luther couldn’t tell that he was imposing himself on you from behind. 

“What is going on!?” he yelled, covering his face with the cardboard box that had Five’s name on it. “Guys! We are at work! I mean… Wow this is not appropriate!”

“What is going on is, I’m working,” Five calmly informed him. “It’s a well-known fact that when doors are shut, it’s for a reason, so this one is on you. And sure. We would love to join you and Sloane for dinner. Thank you.”

Five’s chin came to rest on your shoulder as he cooly stared at his brother. 

When Luther just stood there, too shocked to move, Five gave him a much clearer dismissal. 

“Get the fuck out, jackass,” he said as sternly as he could make it sound, which wasn’t even remotely threatening because he was laughing as he said it.

Luther huffed a few more words of confusion, then, fumbling around blindly, he eventually made his way back to the door.

When you were alone again, Five grinned. “Would you like to go for another ride, my love?”

Chapter 10: Ad Infinitum

Less than a month later, Five moved in, taking center stage from Herb.

“It’s been said several times tonight by others,” he began as the lights shone down on him, all people who worked for him anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say, “but I am going to say it again because you deserve it from me.”

Five glanced your way, looking so handsome.

Sitting in the row behind him filled with other board members, your ankles were crossed, and your heads were neatly placed in your lap. You were doing your best impression of a dignified businesswoman who hadn’t just spent her afternoon with your back on his desk and your heels resting on his shoulders, but the second his eyes met yours, your flush gave you away.

Having lit you on fire with nothing but a happy quirk of his lip, Five turned back to the crowd. “I personally want to thank all of you for your hard work prior to me coming on as your Director and especially after. Without all of you, this place never would have happened,” he explained, drawing a small applause of agreement from the crowd. “The last few months have been hard, but I know that what we have accomplished is worth it and it will make a world of difference.” 

Five laughed softly, almost too quiet to hear, but it was very him, and with it, it was impossible not to fall for his charms.

“I mean that quite literally,” he chuckled. “The changes we have made will end up saving the world, probably many times over.”

It was no secret what you all did at The Commission and averting the end of days was sort of your thing, so that got quite a few laughs from his audience and Five nodded knowingly before moving on. 

“Whether you wanted to or not,” he continued, “by now, everyone here knows me in some way or another, and I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t make knowing me easy. I am an asshole and always have been, so sorry about that.” 

Five made the motion of physically shrugging that off and that got more laughter filling the large auditorium.

His warm smile grew a little more.

“I’m an asshole, and I am working on it, just ask the very patient woman I hired to keep me in-line. I’m a work in progress, and probably always will be,” he joked.

He pressed the palms of both his hands on the slanted surface of the podium, a prominent line forming between his dark eyebrows. 

“Long ago, I made a horrible mistake, and I continued to make many more mistakes after that, and I paid for it, and my family paid too, over and over. The last thing I wanted to happen were the things that did.” 

Five paused, his pained gaze directing downward as a loose lock of his hair fell, concealing the sadness in his eyes.

“But,” he said, forcing his voice to sound brighter again as he looked up, “It’s time to move on and look to our future.”

His lips pulled to the side. 

“As we all know, I’m wrong a lot.” He sniggered at himself. “I couldn’t fix all of this on my own and I never should have tried.”

He turned and winked at you and your face instantly lit up and your heart skipped a beat.

“Everyone here is a family,” he said, still looking at you. “We are a team, and we will never stop fighting as one, but The Temps Aeternalis was never meant to be an organization that only preserved life,” he insisted, looking back towards the lights. “We are here to live it to its fullest with the people we love. That’s what makes us human. That’s the real reason we are here. To support that idea.”

Five looked over to his right at the rest of the board members, his eyes landing on Lila and Diego.

Seeing that Five was ready for them, Lila pushed herself up, giving him one of her overdone eye rolls and a hand at her mouth, intentionally drawing attention to her big, bored yawn as she approached. Behind them, Diego stood up too and began nervously shuffling his papers with his back turned to the audience.

At Five’s side, Lila smiled. “That was one hell of a speech. Sure took long enough, you old sap,” she complained, but Five merely smiled back at her equally affectionately, not taking the bait to verbally spar with her.  

Knowing that it would drive her nuts, he swept in, pulling Lila in for a big hug, smooshing her to his chest. Lila’s arm quickly found its way around his back, holding him just as tight. 

“I still think that you are a little piss-pot, you know that, right?” she whispered, while trying to hide that she was getting choked up by rubbing her runny nose all over on the arm of his suit jacket.

“I know how much you love me, and stop wiping your boogers on me,” Five said, scowling at her but it was so fake even the people in the back row knew it.

He pulled away, but not before giving her his pocket square. Then he leaned into the mic moving along to an epic finish.

“I am truly honored that you all entrusted me to make this organization into something in the end that we can all be proud to be a part of, and going forward I look forward to working with you all in a much less hands-on capacity.”

As murmurs from those who didn’t see this coming filled the room, his brother stepped up behind him and Five dropped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

Diego looked nervous but Five knew he was ready for this. Like so many things they were taught to think by Reginald that were wrong, Diego was never a second to anyone.

He was a leader and always had been, and his well-timed words of advice when it came to seeing things clearly with you would always mean the world Five.

When the votes came in, he was not at all surprised to see that Diego came in at the top to replace him. Diego was a perfect choice to shake things up around there and Five looked forward to stepping back in from time to time to watch his brother in action.

Hearing Diego take a long breath while he enthusiastically shook himself like he was about to spring into a scuffle, fists swinging like a boxer in the ring, Five’s proud, and somewhat exasperated smile got even bigger.

He looked back out over the podium.

“I am officially stepping down, and so is our Co-chair. Thanks to her, I’m going to be a daddy, and I can’t live another day with taking a little time away to enjoy that miracle with her,” he declared, giving everyone the good news.

The entire crowd stood and started giving their departing Director and you a standing ovation filled with excited whistles.

“It’s about time for that vacation,” Klaus yelled through his cupped hands with Viktor next to him, much less boisterous but equally thrilled in his enthusiastic clapping.

Motioning for the room to quiet but getting little back other than more clapping and shouts of encouragement, Five proudly said, “It is my honor to give you, Diego Hargreeves, our new Director, and his second in command, or first, however you want to look at it, your Co-Chair, Lila Hargreeves.”

Stepping aside, with a wave of his hand, motioning for Diego to take the mic, the echo of clapping didn’t stop and neither did the calls of well wishes for both the amazing man walking away, and the one trying and failing to get them to calm down.

Coming back to his empty seat next to yours, Five took your waiting hand into his, holding it tight as he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, smiling so hard it hurt.

As you stood together, cheering for Diego, it finally sunk in for Five.

This was it. The reason for it all.

Finally, he could start living life as he wished, and he couldn’t wait to do it with you by his side and his new baby boy in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❤️

Thanks for reading.

For all my super fans that read this and my entire first Five Centric series over on A03, if you noticed a similarity in the end of this one and that one, you are not crazy. I love my boy and I am a sucker for giving him endings he deserved. 😂😘 Long live TUA and FIVE!!

Link to see all my Tumblr story and art posts

Link to my Master list

Link to visit me on A03

Thank you to all who interacted on my teaser post from 15 days ago, who either commented they wanted to be tagged or showed interest by hitting like. If I missed anyone, I am sorry. I appreciate your patience in getting this one done. 😘 @noodleprinter35 @starlitflora @clownstillwritesfanfic @ifellinto-fantasy @groovydazephantom @redros3y @em1989ts @fckyeahlames @sweetxserenity @honeybunchesoftoenails @9katherinestar @jedaweda @blazingcroutons @sinpforfictionalcharacters @in-love-daily @danlynnie @kalerah02 @ilydiego @3xclus1vel0v3r @yoko-haitani @lianaqui @clappincheeksmeatyflaps @bvbblejayyyy @lanabelle @sweetbabythrills @strawberieee @mimy2004 @fireheart13x @sublimeangelcollection @otralouie11 @idolkerry @tenshiseto @nooneenoticed @moniquem31 @nataliemonicaferlewich @appleypi @little-forest-goblin @i-love-gvf @ursovaine @hargreeves05 @jana0509 @marydbl @temptedtreasuretrove @noodleisodd @mugtrees003 @moonkitty59 @fivehargreevesnumber1fan @badkitty3000 @tuanputri-magui

[delugyu]

hi!! i was wondering if i could request a one shot based on the GGUM mv where yeonjun is a cocky and bratty k pop idol that belittles everyone and basically the reader is like his mananger who’s had enough of his behavior and decides to teach him a lesson and he’s super submissive.

btw i LOVE your writing. cold, curse city was amazing <3

jumped for joy when i saw submissive yeonjun YAYYYYYYY (also thank you!!! hehe)

(wc: 2k / warnings: mean dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, reader’s kind of a bitch but yeonjun is too so it’s okay, degradation, humiliation, oral kinda idk eating pussy thru the panties, unprotected sex, edging..?)

you’re pretty sure that the biggest source of your headaches on any given day is the man you’re watching right now—on a tuesday at eight in the morning—who’s trying to convince you that the interviewer deserved it earlier when he called her an idiot.

“yeah, no. that’s never happening again,” you say plainly, cutting off his long-winded explanation. if only he could catch on when you’re trying to leave no room for argument, but unfortunately he has the most major case of lacking respect and decorum that you’ve ever seen.

“so you think it was okay for her to say that being bratty is my whole brand?” he asks.

“well, if you keep acting the way you do, then you can’t be surprised if that’s what people focus on.” you won’t lie: his brash personality is definitely good for gaining attention. his PR team never has to work too hard, since they know yeonjun’s going to do something stupid to get him on the news anyway. you’re jealous, cause you’re over here busting your ass to make sure he doesn’t go too far and ruin his career.

“i’d be selling a fake image if i was out there kissing babies and shaking hands,” yeonjun says.

“so the better alternative is running your mouth until half the country wants you beaten up?” you don’t want him to act like someone he’s not, but you also don’t want him to be such a dick to everyone.

“stop acting like you know me or the things i want,” he says. it lights a fire inside of you, rage burning at his insinuation. “i don’t want a nice, clean image. i fucking hate it when you try to force that onto me.”

he walks away into his dressing room, probably done with you and this conversation, but you’ve had it. you’re pissed, and he needs to learn that he doesn’t sit on top of the world. you mutter out quick apologies to the staff you push past in your haste to follow yeonjun.

before you can step into the room, yeonjun slams the door in front of your face. “yeonjun, are you fucking kidding me?!” you bang your fist against the door when turning the knob doesn’t work.

“go away,” he says from behind the door. you let out something like a growl in your frustration, feeling like you might just rip all your hair out. it’s too early to already be doing this.

“why do you throw fits every time i try to tell you to have some respect? you can never just bite your tongue for a second.”

you’re met with silence. you hate when he starts tuning you out. you’ll have to pop a few tylenols after this to keep your headache from killing you.

you start up once more, “you think anyone’s gonna look at your art before they look at you as a person? what’s the point in making good music if the person behind it is such a jackass?”

again, no reply. you sigh, running your hands down your face as you try to collect yourself. this isn’t worth it. he’s never going to change.

“i’m thinking i should just quit and let you deal with whatever asshole comes in after me,” you say, just trying to stir him into giving you a response now. you usually keep yourself from going back and forth with him like this, but he’s been on your nerves way too much recently. you were bound to explode with how much he’s been testing you.

the door finally opens. you don’t waste a second when you push it wider and enter the room, shutting it behind you. he’s crossing his arms, eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for you to scold him some more.

“you actually gonna quit, or was that all talk?” he asks.

you scowl and push on his shoulders until he’s sitting on one of the chairs. his eyes widen for a second like he’s surprised you actually put your hands on him. he should be grateful you don’t do worse.

“listen, i’m not going to take your shit anymore. i’m not giving you a choice. you need to have some respect.” you look down at him with ice cold eyes. he squirms a little in his seat; you almost find it funny.

“i don’t know how you expect me to do that. this is just how i am,” he counters.

“shutting your mouth would be a good start.” you put your hand over his lips when he opens them to start talking again. “see, you’re already trying to bark. just listen.”

you keep your hand there, and you’re kind of surprised that he doesn’t even try to move you away. your other hand grips the back of his chair so that you’re leaning over him, and you finally feel like you’re more powerful than him. you feel like he might listen to you for once.

“if you don’t want to be seen as a brat, then don’t be a brat,” you say. “you can have a tough image without annoying everyone. people see you more as a toddler than as some cool guy.”

his eyes dart down, and you realize that, with you leaning over him, he has a great view of your cleavage. he’s staring at your tits. scandalized, you grab his jaw to tilt his head all the way up, so he can either stare at the ceiling or look at your face. he chooses the ceiling.

“are you trying to make me hate my job? do you want me to quit?” you ask.

his eyes find yours at that, and you’re a little surprised to not find any fight in them. he shakes his head and keeps his mouth shut.

“you can answer now,” you say, letting go of his jaw.

“don’t quit, i like you as my manager,” he answers quickly. you huff out a laugh.

“well you sure as hell don’t act like it.”

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes—and sounds completely sincere, too.

you stand up straight, assessing him silently. you let your eyes rake down his body, noticing how he doesn’t move an inch. looks like you’ve finally put him in his place. it’s such a shame that it practically takes you bullying him to get to this point.

“so you’re gonna cool the tough guy act?” you ask.

“i dunno, maybe you should test how obedient i can be,” he prompts with a growing smile. wow, and you were doing so well.

“get off that chair.” immediately he does, standing up and waiting for his next instruction. you laugh at how pathetic his switch up is. you’d love for the nation to see yeonjun now, so eager to follow your orders. how far will he go?

you decide to test it out. “kneel.”

he’s just as quick to follow through with that, too. a power rush is already surging inside you, pumping adrenaline through your body. he looks up at you from his position on his knees. there’s still some space between you, though.

“come a little closer. crawl to me.” your pleased smile stays on your face as you watch him obey, keeping eye contact as he inches toward you.

“this is so funny,” you say as you look down at him. for the first time in your life, you see him look embarrassed. his eyes dart off to the side, unable to take the torment. “eyes on me. don’t you dare try looking away again.”

his cheeks glow with a subtle red tint, you notice as you take in his face. “would you be so kind as to apologize to me again?” you ask.

“i’m sorry,” he answers promptly.

“hm. better than that.”

he looks confused, but you know he’s desperate to follow because he’s quick to oblige. “i’m sorry i was such a brat to you and everyone else.”

“you were a brat. what do you think brats like you deserve?”

you feel him shiver. “punishment,” he answers meekly.

“that’s right.” you place your foot on his crotch, not paying any mind to how hard he is already. “what a shame you were so bad. you could’ve came today.” you take your foot off him and spread your legs apart. “get me nice and wet for your cock.”

“w-what?” he stammers, looking up at you all scandalized.

“i’m not in the mood to repeat myself.” with all the eagerness he’s ever had, yeonjun grips onto your thighs and dips his head beneath your skirt. he starts licking your cunt over your panties, tongue working adamantly against you like he’s scared to do it wrong or poorly.

you sigh, relaxing into the feeling. this is better stress relief than any amount of medicine could give you. maybe you’ll be resorting to this more often.

he wraps his lips around your clothed clit and sucks, then swipes his tongue across the swollen bud. he’s deeply focused on pleasuring you, repeating any little action that makes your legs twitch. you hate to admit it, but he’s getting you wet so fast.

“guess this is the only way to shut you up, huh?” you ask, and you feel him nod in response. “should i do this more then?”

“yes,” he pulls away to say, replacing his mouth with his fingers rubbing quickly against you. “do it as much as you want.”

“is the promise of pussy the only way you’ll—fuck, just like that—respect me?” his fingers run wildly over your clit, desperation oozing off of him.

“only yours. i’ll do anything for it.” he presses into your core, grinding his hand against you. “you’re so wet. please sit on my cock.”

you hum, wanting to say no and torture him more, but you can’t deny how bad you want to feel him inside you.

“sit on the chair and undo your pants,” you instruct. you slide off your panties as he does that.

you sit on his lap and give his dick a few quick jerks before aligning it with your entrance. he makes more noise than you do as you sink onto him, which would make you snicker if you weren’t so busy adjusting to his size.

“you moan like a bitch,” you hiss out as you finally take all of him in. you stay bottomed out for a minute, letting yourself get used to the stretch, grinding your hips every now and then to hear him whine.

“please move, i need more,” he says after a minute.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you start moving anyway—not because he begged you to, but because you’re getting needier for your orgasm. “this isn’t about you, brat.”

he keeps whining as you bounce on his dick, throwing his head back and dropping his mouth open. he sounds so much better when he’s moaning like a whore instead of bitching at everyone on earth.

you gasp when you feel his fingers on your clit, playing with the bud with endless need. even when he bites his lip, little noises keep spilling out of him, and a part of you is almost afraid that someone’s going to hear him.

“i’m close,” you say as you lean back a little, letting his dick hit a new spot inside of you. his eyes shine when he sees your body start twitching.

“i want you to cum so bad, please please give it to me!” his begging throws you ever the edge, biting your lip so you don’t make any sound. breathy little noises escape you instead, which yeonjun seems to like just as much.

you swat his hand away when it becomes too much, catching your breath while you ignore yeonjun’s twitching dick inside of you. yeonjun’s losing his patience, grabbing your hips needily.

“i need to cum too,” he says, brows upturned and almost looking pitiful. you enjoy the feeling of him inside you for a couple more seconds before getting up.

“isn’t that too bad,” you say. his jaw drops, and he goes speechless yet again. “don’t look so surprised. didn’t i tell you that you won’t be cumming today?”

the betrayal on his face suddenly makes this job worth every penny.

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Restless Nights.

Short Summary: Tom finds the perfect way to get you to relax after a long study day.

Warnings: 18+ only! clit play, fingering, edging, begging, praise

A/N: In case you were wondering where I have been, here is your answer. (Except the Tom part, ugh.)

wordcount: 1,2k

You sigh as you turn the page of your textbook. It’s been hours since you started studying for your final exams, hours since you last gave your body a break. You know you should call it a day—but there is so much left to do and so little time, you simply can’t afford to stop. Lost in the lines of your book, eyebrows drawn together as you try to concentrate, try to make sense of the written content, you don’t notice Tom shutting his newspaper and getting up from his seat. Only when he stands behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, do your eyes glance at the empty spot opposite of you. “Let’s go to bed. You have done enough today,” he says, and though his voice is softer than usual, you know he means it. Tom doesn’t like when you overwork yourself—which is blatant hypocrisy in your eyes. “It’s only ten more pages, I- oh—“ his thumbs sink into the aching muscles of your shoulders, massaging with precise ease. “So tense,” he mutters, encouraging you to lean back against the wooden chair. You rest your head against him, humming softly as your eyes slowly flutter closed in exhaustion. His hands work magic on your sore muscles, and for the first time in hours your worries fade, fully focused on your boyfriend’s fingers sinking into your skin so perfectly. “I have been so busy, Tom. I am sorry for neglecting you.” He huffs. “Don’t worry about me. But I do need you to take a break. Now.” Of course, he manages to convince you to go to bed. You could never say no to him—not when he sweet-talks you, not when you are on the brink of exhaustion anyway. So you let him lead you up the stairs, let him kiss you softly as you reach your bedroom, his hands wandering to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You protest weakly as his warm hands slip under the fabric of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head. “Shhh. Let that pretty head of yours rest.” He mutters, and you close your eyes as his lips trail kisses down your neck, tilting your head to give him better access. His fingers work the zipper of your jeans, the rough material soon dropping to pool at your feet, leaving you in your underwear.  You step out of your trousers as he leads you towards the bed, and before you know it, your head is resting on his chest, one leg draped over his as his hands trail over the bare skin of your tummy. Tom halts as he reaches the waistband of your burgundy lace panties. 

“Okay?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. Only when you nod does he slip under the thin material, brushing over your clit as he slides between your folds. Tom teasingly moves up and down, humming as he feels your arousal coating his finger. 

“So wet for me. You needed this, didn’t you?” “Yes, oh God—“ You nod, your hips bucking into his hands as you search for the friction you so desperately crave. His other hand finds your breast, fingers teasing your hardened peak through the fabric of your matching lace bra. “Go on, tell me what you need, darling.” “Need you to— oh—“ “This?” He drawls, his thumb finally finding your puffy clit, teasingly swiping over the sensitive bud. It isn’t enough—it’s too light, too slow, your body writhing for more. Your skin burns with need, the continuous teasing having you on the edge of sanity, body aching for release of the pent-up frustration inside of you. “Please, Tom, please make me come, I need you.” He groans in approval, and like on command, he presses down, the pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit. Your hand closes around his wrist as your back arches into the pleasure, soft moans escaping your parted lips. “Why do you have to be so— oh—“ you gasp as one of his fingers pushes into your soaked entrance, easily slipping past the resistance. “—so good at this.” His lips curl into a smile as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head, easing a second finger into you. “I know what my girl needs.”  With his thumb on your swollen bud and his fingertips repeatedly brushing over your most sensitive spot inside your soaked cunt, your mind soon grows hazy with need, hot pleasure rushing through your veins. He’s praising you for how good you are doing for him, how much you deserve to feel this good. Tom knows you are nearing your high—the way you squeeze him even tighter, walls fluttering around his digits as he thrusts harder inside of you. His fingers then curl, stars clouding your vision as you are on the brink of reaching your climax. “Tom— I am going to—“ But before you are able to tip over the edge, he stills. 

“Don’t forget your manners. Be a good girl and ask, darling.”

You whine in frustration, but you know it is no use to protest now. 

“God, please— I need to come. Please, Tom, please make me come.” You know he enjoys this, being in power over your pleasure. And even after an exhausting day—he won’t let you have it that easily. His thumb is now circling around your clit, but never quite touching you where you need him most—it’s driving you close to insanity. “Oh God- Please—“ you whine, desperately bucking your hips against his touch. He knows how much you despise his teasing—but that’s exactly why he loves it so much.

"That's it. So good for me. Let go, sweetheart. Take what you need," he murmurs, his voice low as he sinks back into you, thumb pressing down on your needy clit again. Your pleasure builds rapidly, and before you know it, it overtakes you, crushing you like a tidal wave. Your body convulses around him, thighs trembling, eyes rolling back as you tumble over the edge. Tom works you through your orgasm expertly, only when you whimper in overstimulation does he slowly withdraw his soaked digits from your cunt, accompanied by a low groan. He lets you rest then, fingers softly stroking your hair, lips placing lazy kisses on your bare shoulder. You are more asleep than awake when you remember the ten pages you had left to study, eyes shooting open at the realisation. Slowly, you lift yourself off him, reaching for your sweater on the ground. “I am going back to study,” you say, and he sighs, reaching for your wrist. “No chance. You have barely gotten any sleep these past few days.” Tom reminds you, pulling you back onto the bed. You giggle softly as his arms circle your waist, pressing you snugly against him. “Going to make you come until you can’t even think about leaving me anymore, sweetheart.”

@riddleswhcre my lovely baby thank u for inspiring me. 🤎

[transformers-spike]

You put Breakdown with a gutbuster in my head, and now I need. For him to use it. On me. (Aka reader)

Bonus points if it's disgustingly cute and sweet and BD gets lots of love and praise. 🥹🥺

I overdid it. Again. Thank you @drunkeninlovesailor for beta-reading this fic and smacking some sense into me when self-doubt reared its ugly head. And I will go on to say @ss-shitstorm made me adore Breakdown so much more through Breaking Bread. I look up pictures of him and cry And yes, this is a sequel to Visitors - so back to the heatverse

Knock Out always goes first. Breakdown doesn’t mind it. At least he shouldn’t. He knows he’ll have his turn with you. Everyone does.

Second or seventh place, it doesn’t matter. He should be grateful to have a chance. Just like he should be grateful he didn’t lose more than one optic. Or the feeling in his left arm. Or his honor.

Again, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. It’s his turn. No superior waiting at your habsuite, no humiliating dismissal (obviously, they don’t mean for it to seem humiliating – they’re his superiors after all, and he has to obey them) – only you in the midst of your heat cycle.

The “breeding room”, as you jokingly call it, is actually Knock Out’s old habsuite. Repurposed, yeah, but he’s been here enough times to recognize it. Any Con worth their ball-bearings can upgrade after reaching third class. Knock Out used to be a first class. Then he was promoted to Chief Medical Officer and skipped a rank. Breakdown is stuck in second class. Better than first. Better than being a vehicon. He should be satisfied.

You’re curled up in your oversized berth on top of the heating pad. “Hey, squishy,” he whispers, taking his usual place next to you. “Don’t tell me Knock Out tired you out.” Your answer is a snort. You stretch, flesh poking out from under your frame coverings. A common sight by now, but his cooling fans didn’t get the memo. His frame vibrates with their familiar hum.

“Like what you see handsome?” you ask and scuttle up to him, wearing that precious spark-warming smile. He returns it full force.

“What can I say? Even a one-opticced oaf can recognize true beauty.” “Careful, partner. There’s only so much I can take before jumping on your spike.” He barks a laugh. “It may come sooner than you think.” “Bring it. I’m ready to deepthroat until your system reboots. But first -” you huff as you climb into his lap, waving away the servo he’s offering. Once comfortably seated in his lap, you cheekily rub your aft against his interface panel.

“Spill the tea, sis.”

“Hmph…” He drums his digits over his thigh. “We’ve had a record break in the mines! I haven’t seen them this happy in quartexes. There was a small party at homebase, squad’s been celebrating with engex.”

“Homemade?”

“Nah – I’ve checked. I won’t let them pull that stunt again.” He winces at the memory. B15F. Poor scrapper’s been euthanized well before his time. There wasn’t much left to save. The engex melted right through his fuel tanks. Breakdown didn’t pride himself on morality anymore – none of them did. But it was the right call – even if the uncertainty is tearing through his circuitry like a horde of scraplets. Could Knock Out have fixed B15F? Or maybe it would’ve just dragged out his suffering for a chance at nothing. His conjunx had studied at a bigshot academy – Breakdown’s knowledge’s based around rushed medical training. “You okay, big guy?” He snaps out of it. “Yeah! Everything’s good.” You can’t see his reassuring smile with his massive chassis in the way. But maybe if he keeps it up he’ll really mean it.

“You sure? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” His smile falters. If a human has noticed it… who else has? Is this why Dreadwing’s been especially tolerant of his mistakes? Scrap, Breakdown almost misses his commanding officer’s reproaches. Could he get any more pitiful for frag’s sake? Proving himself after losing an optic to fleshies is bad enough. He’s not an invalid – he won’t be demoted to janitorial duties after working his aft off to make it this far.

“Workload’s been pretty intense. Been on my mind a lot.” He adds a chuckle to convince you – but he can’t see your expression with his chassis in the way.

“Bad enough for the vehicons to get blackout drunk again?”

“Found them recharging in mine carts.”

“Just like a college frat party, huh?” He has no idea what that means. Doesn’t stop him from laughing, though. “You should’ve seen them getting out! The sight brought lubricant to my optic.” “Scrambling like turtles stuck on their backs?” Oh – those, he definitely remembers. “Better. Remember that video you sent of the cat-looking thing surrounded by fermented fruits?” “The raccoon?” “Yeah! Struggling to sit up, then falling back in again!” You snort louder. “Ah. An absolute classic. You should totally film it next time, I would kill to see it.” “Oof. I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can do that while on shift. Ask Soundwave. Nothing escapes him.” Especially any contamination of the medbay – his processor shudders at the memory. At least it wasn’t Commander Starscream. Fooling around’s been kept to Knock Out’s habsuite ever since. And outside the ship, but that’s not the Intelligence Officer’s business.

“More than you know…” you say. Your tiny digits sneakily stroke the protomatter between his hip and thigh. The touch isn’t sensual. At least he doesn’t think it’s supposed to be. You’re not shy about squeezing, biting or running your glossa over it. This feels different. Hesitant.

“You know… you rarely visit first.” He sputters. “It’s not that I don’t want to or anything!” He shifts his frame and cranes his neck to take a good look at you. No success. “It’s that… I’m still a soldier, and they’re my superiors.” “I know that, silly. I’m talking about how you always let Knock Out have the first go at me before either of your shifts start. Why is that?” “I…” He shakes his helm. “Come on, second place doesn’t make any difference. As long as I get to pay you a visit, I’m happy!” His vox is strained. He meant to sound cheerful. What came out felt like rust being scraped off mesh.

You sink your digits into his thigh. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt. A single fleshie can’t hurt a Cybertronian. But it’s clearly meant as a warning. Even he can tell that.

“Dude, just ask to go first. Knock Out is lovely and all, but you shouldn’t neglect yourself for his sake. I want you to come around and let loose before anyone else. Hell, you deserve it. Do you want me to ask Megatron personally? I can do that, no prob-” “No!” It comes out too desperate. “No,” he repeats. Softer. “The others don’t do well with favorites. Uh… except maybe Soundwave, but he doesn’t count.” Breakdown cringes. He wants no part in their power struggles, especially Commander Starscream’s. Else he’d end up at the barrel of his Master’s cannon.

“Okay… but my point still stands. Ask Knock Out to reschedule next time orr I’m bringing Megatron into this.” His vents huff, servos drawn into fists.

“Got it,” he relents. “I’ll talk to him, but if he refuses-” “He won’t refuse,” you say none-too-softly. “We’ve had a chat post-coitus.” He blinks. “You cannot be serious.” “Low and behold, I am. What? Did you expect me not to address it?” “He’s going to be furious at me.” “Like hell . If he so much as lifts a digit, I’ll be happy to inform Megatron and get him put in his place. He’s your superior in the medbay, not outside of it last I checked. And trust me, I’ve been checking.” He clenches his jaw and offlines his optic. “We’re not…” he starts gently, leveling his words carefully. “We’re not Newsparks. There’s a balance we’ve established on the Nemesis. All of us. Bringing Lord Megatron into this won’t offset the balance. It’ll destroy it. What we have here,” he gestures at the small habsuite. “Is thanks to his generosity. I don’t want to lose this because of some petty interface stuff. If he intervenes… I doubt we’ll still be able to visit.” There’s a long pause. He gives you the time to mull it over. An apology already on his glossa. “I understand. I know it’s not my place to call the shots. Part of me wishes that…” You swallow. “Part of me wishes that I could make things easier for you guys. You’ve all been through so much, and I know I’m only the ship’s resident pet or whatever, but I can throw my weight around a bit. You know, use my position for good?” “For good? Primus, you’re already doing us enough good!” “Hm, not exactly. You’re the ones helping me with my heat when he’s not around. Ugh – I would be suffering without you guys.” You squeeze his thigh. “Man-” you laugh nervously. “I hope I’m not getting too sappy. You’re, like, the only one I can have these conversations with.” His fans stutter. “Really? Not even Lord-” “Not even,” you repeat with finality. There’s a comfortable silence. Breakdown is smiling to himself.

“Hey, big guy.” “Yeah, squishy?” “Wanna kiss?” “Is that even a question?” he asks as he picks you up from his lap, servos cradling your fragile human frame. “Mmm, you know the answer.” You touch the sides of his face. His cooling fans flip to the second setting. Your hands are soft. Incredibly soft. His vents cease functioning entirely as you kiss him. Your glossa is warm and wet. His circuits crackle with charge. How could something so small push his systems into overdrive? When you pull away, he’s left cold and yearning. You don’t waste a klik undressing yourself, tossing your frame coverings over his servos and onto the berth. His lips find yours again. You devour his intake like your fuel tanks are empty.

Knock Out satiated you groons ago, but you’re already running hot with want. His heavy engine purrs. “Someone’s eager to get spiked,” he mutters against your intake. You ex-vent sharply and kiss again, grinning against his lips. He slides a digit between your legs, which you immediately part. There’s still feeling in this one, taking in the heat of your slick valve. There’s no trace of your last interface, only a craving for more. A hiss escapes you as he rubs the digit over your minuscule anterior node. Your hips buck into him, teeth grazing his lip.

“Please, stop teasing already. You know I can’t take it.” “I’m not a tease - that’s Knock Out’s job.” He swipes his glossa over your intake. “I’m the total opposite. So, what do you say? Is your little valve ready to take my spike?” Your optics widen, lubricating in excitement. “Oh finally!” You press your helm against his. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this! I’m so glad the recent energon haul got you enough to mass displace.” “Actually, I’ve been rationing my energon for a deca-cycle!” You step away from his helm and look at him in… strange horror. “You what?” There’s pity in your optics and disappointment furrowing your optical ridge.

Oh frag him! Why did he have to open his intake? “It’s nothing to worry about, I swear! I’ve done this plenty of times in the past – there was this time my unit was stranded in the Sea of Rust and there was no energon for almost a whole deca-cycle! Impressive, right? You don’t see any seekers surviving that!” Your horrified expression worsens. “What do you mean you’ve been starving yourself for weeks just to mass displace and fuck me?”

“Come on, it’s not really starving! We bots can deal with it better than you humans!” he stammers, engine revving in panic. “It’s not about that – it’s about sacrificing yourself for… for this!” you gesture at your body. “Fuck’s sake, you could have told me! I was waiting for you to ask! I could have gotten you the energon ages ago!” “Then why didn’t you?” The words smash through his intake before he can stop them, leaving him to clean up the mess.

His spark tightens when you flinch. It’s the first time he’s startled you. The first time he’s seen you scared. “I… I didn’t…” Your gaze falls. “Scrap, I’m so sorry! It’s not my place to say it, I didn’t mean-” “It’s fine,” you gently stop him. He immediately yields. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… didn’t expect it to be this bad.” A sigh leaves your intake. “I still want to help, though. If Knock Out can mass displace almost every time he visits, isn’t there plenty of energon to go around? Don’t you also work in the medbay on top of everything? You deserve at least the same amount of rations.” “It’s more complicated than that,” he mutters. “Knock Out outranks me.” “So? You’re just one bot, it won’t drain the reserves.” He presses a servo to his helm. “My frame type’s the issue. Us warrior class bots need far more energon than the average vehicon.” “Yes, and? You’re still just one more war frame. Who else is there? Megatron, Dreadwing – that makes three.” You bite your lip when you meet his optic. “Let me give you a hand. I’ll leave the whole thing with Knock Out alone if you let me help with this.” “I…” His vents huff. “Okay. I’ll let you take care of it. But, please tell him not to summon me. Else it’ll seem suspicious.” A smile tugs at the corner of your intake. “Got it. Easier done than said.” Hesitating, you reach out to touch his cheekplate. He leans in. You take a deep in-vent. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that. I’ve been so worried about everyone lately, I’ve overstepped so many boundaries. The energon thing just… drove me off the edge.” “It’s okay,” he says, unsure of his own words. “It happens to the best of us. If it’s any comfort,” he grimaces, “Knock Out’s been riding my tailpipe about my energon intake for the whole deca-cycle. That’s why I… tried to keep it a secret. Until now.” “Did it work on him?”

“Frag no!” He laughs. “For all his drawbacks, he’s the closest thing to a doctor on this ship. Noticing something’s wrong’s part of his primary code!” His laughter dies down. “Sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I definitely ruined the mood.” “Not at all.” You press your cheek against his. “If it’s any comfort on my part, I’ve been called someone else’s name during interface.” His optic buzzes in its socket. “Who?” he demands without meaning to. “Who?” He repeats, far softer – now a polite question. “No one in High Command, sadly,” you say like you’ve read his mind, adding an apologetic shrug. “Another human before the alien shebang happened.” “Ah.” He averts his optic to hide his disappointment. “Come on, man. You know I would have immediately rung you up if Starscream had been moaning Megatron’s name during overload.” He cracks a smile. “I guess you’re right.” “Gossip girls forever?” You offer your fist. “Gossip girls forever,” he agrees, tapping it with his digit. You both mimic an explosion and draw your servos away in slow motion. “Still not sure what explosive punches have to do with gossip.” “Shhh - it’s a human bestie thing.” You kiss him again. Gently at first, then harsher with his wordless encouragement – your hunger makes his engine rev. “Want to start with valve to glossa action? How about we keep mass-displacement for the final course?” “Like I’ll ever refuse a free refueling.” You snicker. The noise is so precious it makes his joints weak. Lying on his abdomen with you in his servos, you writhe as he presses his glossa to your valve. “Fuck,” you hiss. “You okay?” he’s unable to hide the smugness in his tone. “I thought Knock Out had the first taste.” “ Fuck , Knock Out. I need your glossa right now. No one else’s.” His fans shudder. Once, handling someone so small was circuit-frying. He’d been with plenty of minicons, but never an organic. Those bots could take a good pounding. Fleshies? Not so much.

“Fuck.” You shiver as his glossa rubs up and down your pretty valve. Your hips buck into it. He grins between your legs and licks again. And again. And again. Until he feels your servos on his crest. “I need to ride your face,” you say – more declaration than request. He blinks, grin widening. “That desperate, huh?” “Shut up,” you growl – too adorable for your own good. How he wants to squeeze and smother you against his face. Your legs are soft on either side of his cheeks, servos gripping onto his crest with impressive strength for a creature so small and frail. He holds his glossa out for you to use as you please, two digits holding your hips in case you tumble off. “How…” You pant. “How are you this good?” He shrugs with his free arm. His vents blast harder. “I’m not even doing anything,” he mumbles with his glossa out. “Of course you are. You’re being your sweet himbo self,” your words falter as you keep riding. 

His cheekplates heat up. “Uh, a what now?”

There’s no answer, only your legs shaking as you furiously grind against his intake. You grip onto his crest, your entire frame shaking. “Breakdown!” you call out, vox breaking. A sudden burst of charge travels down his interface array. His pressurized spike clanks against his panel. “Frag,” he groans. His spike’s throbbing, Ugh, it hurts like he swung it against a wall.

At least you’re oblivious to his, uh, mishap – twitching against his glossa while trying to slow your ventilation. The plating of hips shifts and his panels release his array. His valve is soaking with transfluid, steam almost emanating off of it after overheating for half a groon. The cold air makes his spike twitch. “Is it… is it time?” you ask weakly, turning around to look at his lap. “Oh hey, so that’s where the noise came from.” He cringes, but still helps you get down. You scurry towards the middle of the berth and cheer out “Show me the goods, big boy!” Mass displacement is something he’d done in the past – back on Cybertron when there was plenty of energon to go by. Now it’s just a waste. Not for you, obviously! Primus, you’re worth every last drop. His working receptors buzz with sensation. System diagnostics appear at the corner of his vision. Mass conversion: successful

Warning:

Minimum energon required: 70%

Current level: 93% His joints are calibrated, there’s no ache in his processor, subspace feels fine – everything’s in working order. He can rest easy and focus on the important stuff. “Woah.” you beam at him. It’s uncanny to see you… so much bigger than he’s used to.

The hug is sudden but not unwelcome. Your helm comes up to his chassis, but only barely. It doesn’t take long for you to pull him on top (the close view is to offline for), and drag him into a kiss. His spark pulsates like never before.

“Please, spike me,” you beg. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He looks down at his spike. Then back at you. There are many things he’s learned as a nurse, one of which being: pick the smallest pair of forceps when operating on minicons. Sadly, he cannot replace his spike with a smaller one. But he can prepare you for the operation. “Hey, how about I get you started with something else before you get the hammer?” He lifts up the servo with functioning receptors and flexes his digits. “Promise you’ll rail me afterwards.” “Promise.” He grins.

He’s a denter first and all, but he’s always been careful with his servos back when brushing debris off his comrades after a busted demolition job. It felt like second nature to him. They were at the bottom of the scrapheap. Caring for others, even in small ways, made their plight bearable. His own at least. He pushes in, chuckling as you furrow your optical ridge, intake slightly agape. “Does it sting?” “No.” Another digit is carefully added. You whimper and grit your dentae. One digit and a half then. “What about now? How do you rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?” “Oh shut up…” Your tiny valve is absolutely soaked, slick with human lubricant, struggling to accommodate him. If you’ve taken the entire High Command, you can take him. Sure, he’s been told his spike is a “weapon forged by Solus herself”, but Megatron’s definitely bigger. And you’ve fragged him. Everyone knows that. Your valve’s more durable than it seems.

You clench around his digits, expression so lovely it’s clear you’re about to overload. He cautiously curls a digit inside of you. The gentle pressure’s an easy way to make your valve calipers clam down on him. Another whimper escapes you as he rubs at the spot. Your pedes push against his thighs, a desperate plea to stop. But he knows better. “Cute,” he thinks as your sweet noises intensify. He never expected fleshies to be so adorable – but then again, you’re not like the other squishies. Lord Megatron picked the best one. “Please,” you whisper. “This is torture.” “Aw, I thought you wanted to overload.” “You and I…” You swallow. “We both know damn well you’re teasing me. I need your spike, not… not this .”

He laughs. “I keep my promises, don’t worry about it.” He pulls you flush against him, legs over his hips. Bracing himself on one servo, he’s got an arm cautiously wrapped around your waist. “Comfortable? How do you rate your position on a scale from 1 to-” “Breakdown, I swear to fu-” “Got it. It’s hammer time.” He grins. You grip onto his digits and offline your optics. He pushes in. You suck in a sharp in-vent. He pauses.

“Go on,” you say after a moment. “I can take it. I guess I didn’t expect it to be so big.” “Big?” He blinks at you. “You’re the one taking Lord Megatron. He’s larger than me.” “Not his spike.” You chuckle. He looks up at the ceiling in wonder. “Wow.” “Wow indeed. Now please put that spike to good use.” Like a good soldier and seasoned interface partner, he follows your orders. Ridge by ridge, you take him, grip tightening and dentae gritting until he reaches your limit. He shudders. You’re clenching around him like a cold press, crushing his spike harder than any minicon valve. You seem on the verge of shutting down. “You okay?” “...yeah.” “Do you want me to stop?” “Don’t you dare.” “Got it.” His smile widens.

The pace is incredibly slow. Yeah, Knock Out likes having his circuits rearranged – and yeah, most vehicons he’s been with want to get railed into oblivion. But taking his time with you feels just as good. Charge is building along his array. He wants to tell you so many things – how you’re so beautiful holding onto him like he’s the center of your universe, whimpering and repeating his name listlessly – or how he wishes this could last forever, that he can forget the war when your arms are wrapped around his frame, no matter how small.

Your optics come back online and meet his. Wordlessly, you beckon him closer. He leans down, now bracing himself on his arm. Your servos find his face. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?” you ask, nuzzling his cheekplate. It’s not the first time you’ve done so. But at this moment, either from mass displacement or the sight of you sprawled out before him (or both), his spark throbs in his chassis. His array is pulsating with charge. He presses his forehelm against yours. “Yeah. You always do.” “Good. Because I love you.” Your lips meet his. The charge explodes. Your valve clamps down on his spike. Sparks shoot through his sensors – his engine roars. The world stands still.

Then, he breaks the silence. “By…” his vox crackles with static. He recalibrates his vocalizer. “By Alchemist Prime…” there’s still a buzz to his words. “What was that?” “You tell me,” you answer shakily. Neither of you move for a while. Diagnostics report: Energon level: 87% He pulls out of you, earning a wince. You loosen your grip on his neck and fall back. His optics widen at the load of transfluid trickling out, valve still twitching. He feels equal parts pride and wonder something so small took his spike. Should he tell you about it? You appreciate greatly when he says what’s on his processor. Not everyone does. “Good job,” he tells you, petting your helm like the human he saw congratulating its furry companion. Your expression spells confusion. Then, you grin wider than he’s ever seen and pet him back. His engine rumbles in content. “I would die for you,” you declare without a hint of sarcasm in your vox. He laughs nervously. “Please don’t, Lord Megatron would kill me.” “Then I’d kill him first.” “But you’d already be dead.” “I’d come back as a ghost.” He laughs again, twice as nervous. “Anyway, was it… good?” “You blew my back out.” “I – what ?” “You rearranged my guts.” “Wait, are you about to offline-” “Human euphemisms.” “Oh.” “It means it was the best frag of my life.” “I… oh wow.” He allows you to pull him back on top. “You’re the best I could have asked for.” His cooling fans are blasting. “Um…” “You’re my favorite blueberry popsicle.” “Uh, thanks?” “I love it when you’re blue in the face.” More energon rushes to his cheeks.

“Oh, um – you too!” Frag - that didn’t sound smooth. He hasn’t been this bad since he was newly forged. “Raspberry and blueberry,” you press your helm against his. “My favorite mix.” You kiss him again, less desperately – finally satiated for the next cycle. Or at least a few groons. “Can you cuddle in this form?” Or…do you have to turn back?” He hits his chassis with pride. “Another groon won’t hurt me – I’ll do just fine..” “Aw hell yeah!” He lies down and you quickly take your place at his side, burying your face in the crook between his neck and his chassis. You let out a hum when his digits stroke your back. He can sense the minuscule hairs on your plating. They tickle.

A klik passes by, but you can’t seem to sit still. You push his arm away, readjust yourself, then pull it back in, only to start again a nanoklik later. “Everything ok?” You make a noise of frustration – so adorable it makes his spark ache.

“Give me a sec,” you mutter.

He watches as you get up to fetch your blanket and pillows. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I barely managed to clean up before coming over.” “Don’t matter.” You cover his side in them. “I just want to cuddle you.” He bites his glossa. You’re too sweet for your own good. Once comfortable, his servo comes back to stroke your skin. You shiver. “Are you cold? Do you want me to get the heating pad?” “No. You’re warm enough. It just… feels nice to be with you this way. I meant what I said. I do love you. Maybe not on Knock Out’s level – he’s known you before my great grandparents were even born.” He affectionately taps your helm. “I mean, yeah – but what does that have to do with us? Do you humans have a monogamous contract or something?” Your expression says it all. “Oh,” he drawls. “Uh – it doesn’t mean that you can’t be with us, it’s that-” “I’m Megatron’s first and foremost,” you say, looking away from him and straight at the wall. “I… yes. But I mean that-” “I’m together with everyone. I know that.” You turn your attention back to him. “And no, it doesn’t bother me. I simply want to give you the praise you deserve. And the energon. Man, you need that so badly.” Resting your helm atop his chassis, you flash him a warm smile. “I love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

[g4rvez-r3id]

Bad Day

Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You come home from a really bad day and your boyfriend, Spencer is there to save the day… and hold you while you cry.

Category: Fluff, some Angst

Warnings: reader having the worst day of her life, crying, mentions of having bad days, kissing, spencer being the best bf ever- ig that’d be it 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so this is more of a blurb bc i had a bad day today soooo this was the outcome of said bad day and how spencer would be 😌 can you tell i’m projecting again? oops. oh well.

This was probably the worst day of your life. Okay, it may not have been the worst day of your life per se, but it seemed like it was in the top ten at the very moment.

Everything that could’ve happened today happened. You woke up late, causing you to be late to work, you missed the bus on top of that, the customers in the store were horrendous and rude and you’d miscounted the deposit in the store at least a hundred times, causing you to be late to your other bus. Oh, and it was raining. Today was just not a good day.

And after your ten hour shift, all you want to do is just go home and cry yourself to sleep and forget this whole day. You’d arrived back home, holding yourself back from crying until you got into your bed. But you unlocked the front door and came home to a pleasant surprise.

Your boyfriend, Spencer was in the living room, reading a book, feet rested on the couch — showing off his mismatched socks — with a small smile on his face. “Hi, angel!” He diverts his attention from the book to you, closing it as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “How was work?”

You look up at him and his face makes you sad. He’s so happy to see you, so joyful even if he has a job being one of the most important people in the world, catching serial killers. He was a hero, essentially and had seen the worst of the worst out there and still managed to put a smile on his face whenever he saw you.

Your shoulders sank and your head fell against his chest and you began to cry into his sweater. And you cried hard. To the point where you were soaking Spencer’s sweater with your tears. Spencer, being the concerned boyfriend he was frowned and rubbed your shoulders, pulling you away from him so he could see you. “Hey,” He spoke softly. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter? Come here.”

He led you over to the couch where you sat down and he kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” Spencer asks as he rubs your thigh soothingly and your eyes are shut as you cry but you can feel him staring at you, awaiting an answer because he hates seeing you in this state.

“Everything that could’ve happened happened,” You sniffle. “I’ve had such a horrible day, Spencer.”

Spencer frowns as he sits next to you on the couch and lets you lean on him as you continue to cry and cry. “It was a bad day, that’s all it was.” He says as he rubs your arm. “Shh.” He says as he holds you close.

Eventually, you’re done letting it all out and take a deep breath and you look up at Spencer. You had kept your feelings in all day today until you got home and the minute you saw Spencer, you broke. Mostly because it was easier to be vulnerable with him. He made it easy to. And you were never afraid to express it to him.

Spencer looks at you with a fond, sympathetic smile as he takes the opportunity to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as you looked down at his soaked sweater. “Don’t be,” He assures. “It’s normal to have bad days. Bad days are a common human experience, it happens to everyone. It often stemming from stress, poor sleep, or a series of minor inconveniences and while they can feel overwhelming, they can also be a learning opportunity to build resilience and understand yourself better.” He gives you a tight lipped smile after his little fact. And somehow, it makes you feel better about your bad day. “Do you feel any better?” He asks and you shrug with a sniffle, “A little.”

“Well, then how about you hop in the shower and I’ll get your bedroom made up since I put your sheets in the dryer —” He checks his watch. “A little under an hour ago — and I’ll order us takeout and we can have a movie night. And I’ll put on a Disney movie since those seem to cheer you up a lot. Is that okay?” Hearing him say that just makes you want to cry again. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you feel as if you don’t deserve a kind man like Spencer in your life.

Often, people told you to suck it up and get over it and grow up. But Spencer never did. He listened when you had bad days, he sat there when you vented and needed someone to listen to and vice versa. You’d felt vulnerable with him like he had with you. And at first, you weren’t like this. You never opened up to him because you were scared you’d get the same reaction — telling you to get over it, but he never did. He wouldn’t dare to.

“Please don’t cry, my love. I’m sorry.” Spencer says with a small loving smile, holding your face in his hands but you shake your head as him, “I’m not sad,” You tell him. “I’m just… emotional now because… you are seriously my dream man.” You say to him with a small smile and he chuckles at that and pats your thigh as he stands up and goes to the bathroom to get your shower ready.

After you get out of the shower, you go to your room and find Spencer has made your bed, the takeout is here and your TV is on, ready for any streaming networks.

You get into the bed and Spencer happily joins you, opting to turn on Wreck-It-Ralph since you both agreed on it and as the movie starts, you watch him with a small smile.

As he focuses his attention on the screen, you focus your attention on him. His perfect nose, the way it twitches when he’s happy. His brown-on-the-outside, gold-on-the-inside eyes, always so mesmerized in you. And the way they crinkle up when he smiles. And speaking of his smile, the most perfect you’d ever seen it. Next to his hair, which you are currently raking your hands in and brushing through with your fingers. He was so lovely, in your eyes. He was the flower petals to a beautiful rose, he was your everything. Just as you were his. What did you do to deserve him, you wonder.

“No wonder I had a bad day,” You spoke, causing him to turn his head to you and furrow his brows in confusion. “I didn’t have my lucky charm with me.” You say as you brush through his locks.

Spencer has a baffled look on his face at that sentence alone. “I’m your good luck charm, huh?” He asks, raised eyebrows and a small smile appearing across his face.

“The best good luck charm ever.” You lean close and peck his lips with your own and that’s what you’ve missed this entire time. His lips against yours and you can’t help but smile in the kiss.

Blushing like a schoolgirl, you back away from the kiss but he wants seconds. And he grabs you by the chin gently and kisses your lips one last time, so passionately and lovingly and he waits there after the fact, faces close and looking into your eyes as if you made the world stop turning.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you get impossibly close to him as you watch the movie with him and fifteen minutes later, Spencer looks over and sees that you’ve fallen asleep and he lets you rest. And he hopes that your bad day may have turned into a good one at the end of the night.

Spoiler alert: it did.

[detectivestucks2]

Single Dad Toji

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Toji x F!Reader

Summary: Toji sees you at the park with your kid while he was on a job and becomes obsessed with seducing you into weekly quickies in the back of his car

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, toy usage, unprotected sex, anal play, cum feeding

Word Count: 1.9k

Single Dad Toji who spots you at the public park with your son while he was on a job. Your yoga pants perfectly hugging your hips, your ponytail poking through the back hole of your baseball cap. Your voice, sweet as candy when you call your son’s name. All of it distracting him from his mission.

Single Dad Toji who makes quick work of his assignment so he can circle back to the playground to find you. Only you’re gone. Not to worry, you’ll be back. You strike him as the kind of girl who has a routine, he’ll try again next week. 

Single Dad Toji who surprises Megumi with a visit, asking if he wants to go to the park and play? Excited, little six year old Fushiguro grabs his baseball mitt and hops in the car, ready to play catch and spend real time with his dad.

Single Dad Toji who is the picture-perfect father, hoping you’ll be around to see it. He plays catch, tag, even teaches Megumi a little about fighting. Then he spots you out of the corner of his eye. You’re back, this time in a different pair of yoga pants, your hair in a messy bun poking out the back of your cap, and a cropped shirt that his hands are dying to roam under. 

Single Dad Toji who clears his throat, “Megumi, you wanna head over to the playground now? Maybe join some of the other kids?” “Okay, Dad!” He watches Megumi’s little legs bolt toward the colorful structure as he shoves his hands in his pockets and strolls in your direction, ready to convince you to join him in his car while the kids are distracted.

Single Dad Toji who sits next to you. You weren’t paying attention at first but when his herculean figure sits down inches away from you, your eyes do a double take. He’s gorgeous. Is it even legal for him to be here? Don’t you have to be tired and ugly with a dad bod to bring your kid to the park? This guy looks like he just came from a weightlifting competition and he could pick you up with his pinky. 

Single Dad Toji who deeply murmurs, “Hey.” knowing he won’t have to say much more to win you over. You might be attractive but he can see you staring at him in his peripheral. The battle is won before it even begins. Your mesmerized face eventually manages to whisper ‘Hello” in response. “You come here often.” “Y-yeah, every week. You new to the area?” Knew it, you do keep a strict schedule. This will be fun. “You could say that. I don’t get out much.”

Single Dad Toji who smiles when you ask him, “Which one is yours?” He points out his son who’s his spitting image and pretends to not know which kid is yours. He’s just waiting for your name so he can do a thorough background check on you tonight. He wants to know everything. Who’s your kid’s father, how long you dated, are you married, divorced, where you work, Toji is nothing if not detailed when it comes to researching his prey and even if you don’t have a hit on your head, he's sure as hell hitting you from behind. 

Single Dad Toji who feels his chest swell when you ask the very question he’d been waiting for, “So where's Megumi’s mom?” He’s got you now. You’re in his snare and he’s not gonna let you go until he’s done toying with you, which you better believe won't be any time soon. 

Single Dad Toji who has you bobbing between his legs in the back seat of his SUV. The car spacious enough for you both, but cramped enough to keep you against him at all times. Your pretty mouth struggled to stretch around him and your throat is having an even harder time. However, that doesn’t stop him from grabbing you by your hair and shoving you down on him. You’re his little slut now, there’s no turning back. His hips buck up into your mouth as you gag and cough. Lewd wet sounds swirl through the silence making him twitch in your mouth. As much as he wants to be inside of you, he’s enjoying his sadistic game. He could do this to you for hours but he doesn’t know how long he has till Megumi notices he’s missing. With that thought, he releases you but wipes the drool from your mouth all over your whore face before pulling you up on the seat so he can piledrive into you.

Single Dad Toji who has you moaning and screaming as he stretches you wide. You’d think after giving birth, this would be easier but you swear the doctor must’ve sewn you up to be like new cause you feel like a virgin as he pummels into you. His hips crash into your backside so hard it not only rocks you, leaving you unsteady, but it makes the whole car shake. Surely someone is gonna tap on the window to let you know how obvious you’re being. 

Single Dad Toji who makes you cum twice before he allows himself to release. He wants to get back to Megumi but he wants to see you again. He needs to feel how your pretty pink insides squeeze around him while you make demonic orgasming sounds. You’re sexy as hell and he hasn’t had nearly enough time to explore you yet. He finishes with harsh slaps to your ass, turning it bright red with his strength before he chokes your neck. He can feel how you quiver around him as his seed pumps into your hole, possibly creating a sibling for Megumi. 

Single Dad Toji who continues to hold you by the neck, still on his cock, while he puts his number in your phone. He whispers instructions into your ear to send him a photo of your soaked underwear when you get home. He wants to see his cum dripping out of you and making a mess of your underwear. As he’s telling you this he pulls you up and dips two fingers in your cunt to scoop out some of his spend and shove it in your mouth. You hood your eyes and suck on the thick digits obediently, wishing he was inside you again. When he withdraws his fingers he gives you two light slaps on the cheek, “Good slut. Same time next week?”

Single Dad Toji who has you in the backseat of his car every week like clockwork. You're addicted to each other. All your mind thinks about is him and how he plays with you. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your entire life. He knows your body and what makes you tick as if you’d been dating for a decade. He’s an expert in knowing precisely what to say to make you feel like his filthy sex slave, ready to serve him and all his desires. This week he has you wearing the remote vibrator. He turned it on the second he got to the park. You were still driving and it took you by surprise. Your son asked what ‘that humming sound’ is. You played it off as a fly that must be buzzing around and opened the door for him. Your son sprints to the jungle gym and plays with his new best friend, Megumi. As you walk towards his father, Toji, he pulls out his phone and increases the intensity of the vibe, the asshole. You stop dead in your tracks, unable to move from the pulsing that had you silently screaming for mercy.

Single Dad Toji who approaches you and grabs you by the arm, pulling you into his SUV. He strips off your pants and spits on your rear. “Wrong hole, Toji.” “No, it’s not. Your other hole is occupied. It’s time to take this one out for a test drive.” He drops another wad of spit on your back door then sinks his finger in and rims you, stretching you as you wait on all fours anticipating what’s to come while writhing from the shockwaves of the vibrator. Toes curling, core clenching, legs shaking, you're already overloaded before he sinks his fat tip into your rear. It’s uncomfortable at first but then as you loosen up, your inner demon surfaces. Only two strokes in and you’re cumming all over his back seat. Toji smirks, realizing this is gonna be fun. He begins to pound into your cute little hole, making you scream and shout filthy things. You chant his name, promising to be his little toy and do whatever he wants. He rocks into your A-spot so hard that you convulse, unable to speak as your eyes roll in your head. 

Single Dad Toji who can’t bring himself to stop, even after your body collapses. It’s too good, too tight, too warm. His shaft tingles as it rubs against the vibrator still whirring away in your other cavity. “T-t-toji, p…please. Mercy.” He chuckles at your orison. Like he’s gonna give you a break. Completely disregarding your plea he hammers home, hips snapping so hard you’re dizzy and have gone blind from pleasure. If you weren’t screaming before, you’re definitely screaming now. People probably think you’re being murdered but he can’t stop himself, he keeps pounding away until he breaks. Cum shoots out and paints your interior. He finally stills and notices that your body is in a crumpled ball, lifeless except for the twitch in your leg. A buzzing sound can be heard over his heavy panting when he realizes he never stopped the vibe. “Oh, sorry babe.” When he turns it off he sees your body go limp as if you took your last breath and knows he’s worn you out. You lazily roll over and stare up at him, your eyes constantly finding their way over to his mouth and that sexy scar he has on the corner of his lips. 

Single Dad Toji who grabs you at the base of your jaw and pulls you up to his face. His lips collide with yours in a breath-stealing kiss. You’re his perfect woman, his little slut, his secret whore, his obsession. When you get out of his car you’re about to pull away to pretend you’re just friendly parents bumping into each other when he sees how another man is watching your ass. You straighten the brim of your hat and move to walk toward the playground when Toji’s massive hand grabs your waist and pulls you into him. You look up at him shocked, then he drapes his heavy arm across your shoulders while he stares daggers into the man who now pretends to be watching his daughter lovingly. “What’s this?” you ask, surprised that Toji wants to show affection where the boys might see. “You’re mine. Others need to know.”

Single Dad Toji who doesn’t want to be single anymore. He has you blushing like a giddy schoolgirl as you walk over to the bench and sit together. Your shoulder tucked into his armpit and his hand squeezing your bicep, he can’t get over the idea of making things public. You’re his, officially, and it makes him smile to himself as the two of you watch your kids become stepbrothers.

Masterlist

[cherryredz]

Skating on Thin Ice

one-shot

Summary: After weeks of exchanging lighthearted texts and meeting up for casual coffee dates, Harry decides to take you on your first official date. Wanting to do something fun and a bit nostalgic, he suggests ice skating at a nearby outdoor rink that’s been set up for the winter. You have never skated before and hesitate at first. But in the end you agree, intrigued by the idea of trying something new with him.

Warnings: none

_______________________________________________

It was a crisp winter evening, the kind that made the world feel still and quiet, save for the soft sound of skates carving through ice. Harry stood beside the outdoor rink, waiting for you to arrive. The twinkling lights around the rink shimmered, casting a warm glow over everything. When he spotted you walking toward him, your breath visible in the cold air, he smiled.

"Hey," you greeted, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your eyes bright with excitement and nervousness. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Harry grinned, stepping forward to meet you. "I promise it’s going to be fun. No pressure, we’re here to enjoy the night." He held out a hand, helping you with your skates. "Let’s get these on first."

"I’m already having second thoughts," you laughed, pulling the laces tight around your boots. "I’ve never been on ice before. What if I fall?"

"You won’t fall," Harry reassured you, tying your skate laces with an expert hand. "Well, you might... but I’ll be there to catch you."

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on your lips. "You’re so confident, I’m starting to feel like I might just embarrass myself."

"No chance." Harry finished with the skates, standing up and offering you a hand. "Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done."

You stepped onto the ice together, and you immediately clutched the edge of the rink. Harry, laughing softly, stayed by your side, one hand resting on your back to steady you.

"Okay, this is definitely harder than it looks," you muttered, trying to shift your weight but feeling unsteady.

"Take your time," Harry said gently. "Just shift your weight, one foot at a time."

You hesitated, glancing at Harry. "I feel like a baby deer on skates."

Harry chuckled. "We all start somewhere. I’m not exactly a pro either." He nudged you playfully. "Just don’t fall into me."

"I’ll try not to," you teased, trying to keep your balance. "I feel like I’m going to wipe out any second."

Harry steadied you once more, a warm smile on his face. "You’re doing great. I’ll be right here."

As you slowly circled the rink together, your conversation shifted to more personal topics. "So," you started, your voice light, "you’re always so calm and collected. How do you do it?"

Harry shrugged, gliding along smoothly beside you. "It’s just easier to keep it together when the world’s watching. But sometimes, it gets... tiring, you know? People expect you to always be happy, always on."

You nodded, your thoughts drifting to your own insecurities. "I get that. I guess I try to keep a brave face too, but there’s always this pressure, this feeling like I’m never enough."

Harry glanced at you, his expression softening. "You don’t have to feel like that, Y/N. I mean, you’re here, with me, right now. And that’s enough."

You smiled, the warmth of his words melting some of your nerves. "Thanks, Harry. I... I think I needed to hear that."

You continued skating, Harry occasionally giving you pointers, laughing at the little stumbles you both made. The ice became more familiar, and your confidence began to grow.

"You’re getting better," Harry commented, slowing down beside you as you gained more control. "Look at you go."

You grinned, feeling proud of yourself. "I guess I’m not so bad after all."

You skated in silence for a moment, both of you enjoying the peacefulness of the rink. The cold air was refreshing, and the twinkling lights above you gave the night an almost magical quality.

"I think I could get used to this," you said softly, your hand brushing against his. You glanced up at him, your breath coming in soft puffs. "Thanks for pushing me to try something new."

Harry stopped skating for a moment, turning to face you. "I’m glad you did. It’s fun, right?"

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster than it had been before. "Yeah, it is." You looked into his eyes, the connection between you growing stronger by the second. The moments of awkwardness had turned into something more—something real.

Harry, who had been trying to keep his composure, suddenly felt a shift. The nervousness he’d felt at the beginning of the night had turned into something far more tender. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "Y/N…"

Before he could say anything else, you took a small step closer as well, the gap between you closing. Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of your bodies contrasting with the chill in the air. Your heart pounded, and Harry’s breath was shallow. You paused for a moment, and in the next breath, Harry leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, unexpected kiss.

It was gentle, tentative at first, but when you kissed him back, all the hesitation melted away. You pulled back slightly, your faces still close, eyes meeting in the glow of the lights. Your lips were warm against his, and the spark between you was undeniable.

"That was..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his voice just as soft. "Perfect."

You lingered there for a moment, basking in the magic of the moment before Harry smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we go get some cocoa? I’m freezing."

"That sounds amazing," you said, grinning. "Lead the way."

You walked off the ice together, the sound of your laughter echoing in the crisp winter air. Harry pulled you close, and you shared a quiet moment as you headed for the warmth of the car, the ice rink behind you already becoming a cherished memory.

As you parted ways later that night, Harry paused before walking off into the night, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "This is just the beginning, Y/N."

You smiled, your heart still racing, as you watched him go. "I’m looking forward to it."

_______________________________________________

This is the first ever time I'm writing something here, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :))

p.s. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Fair, but what if they speak english real nice and slow?" She offered up in Friends defense. "Oh. I hope I'm not one of those people. I don't try to be. I guess I've just never been all that good at sugarcoating things. That's nice of you though. I guess for me, I don't really feel like I have much to lose by not telling the truth. But, I also don't really have many people or any people outside of Nico. So, that may be part of it too."

"You know you do look like someone who can read," She smiled. A bright and warm smile as she found herself beaming up at him. "You volunteer in the library? That's cool. What do you there? And thank you. It's probably the nose. I had it done when I was eighteen." Her uncle had always told her she would look better with her nose done and he must not have been wrong. "You're really easy on the eyes though too," She promised him. "Kinda. Yeah. I wonder why that is. Wait- did you say date? Oh, um, okay! Sure! We can go on a date," She nodded along happily. She couldn't remember the last time she had been asked on a date before. But, dates were supposed to be fun, weren't they? "Sort of? It's kind of a long story though."

"That would be fun! We can have the pups go on a date too. Luna's super friendly. Sometimes too friendly. She still thinks she's a puppy, but she's huge now and I'm pretty sure she'd plow down a burglar to give them love," She let out a small laugh at the thought. "They could try? You might tear the sleeves though. But, then again, that could be a look. Good for you. I've been told I'm not very good with manners or keeping my elbows off the table, but I try. You should talk to Jonah. I've heard he loves submarines and he seems like he reads too."

"Oh," Her face drooped as she thought back to the camp retreat. "I quit my job after that," She mumbled quietly under her breath. "That's sweet of you to say, but it doesn't change the fact that I was bad at therapy. I'm learning I'm not that great at most things."

"Huh?" Her brows creased at the mention of Nico. "What kind of rivalry? Like they didn't like each other?" She asked, already preparing herself to hate this unknown woman on the simple principle that she didn't get along with her best friend and nothing else. "You're not wrong there. I can bench a lot too! I might even be able to lift you," She assessed, if only because of super strength, but she could certainly try. "Do that again. The song? You're a really good singer."

Efe shook his head back and forth. "I mean, I like friends. I like having friends in real life. What I don't like is six rich friends who all look the same and have no real problems," he replied very seriously, giving a short nod of his head. "Hmm. Yeah, yeah. That makes sense," Efe smiled, cocking his head to one side. "Well, sometimes I think brutally honest people might like it more for the brutality than the honesty. I'm not saying you're one of those people, of course. But sure. I try to be honest. I tell people good things I admire about them because that's true too. I'm not always good at it." Efe wrinkled up his brow. "And yeah, sometimes people do things that hurt themselves, and they don't wanna hear it from me. So. I try to tell and give them what they need instead." He shrugged.

Efe smiled. "Can I? I read a lot. That's it. There's this program at the library where I volunteer to...but, well, never-mind. It's true. You're beautiful." He swayed back and forth with her, meeting her eye. "Ah, well, I'm just me. Thank you, though. I don't try to be a good guy because a lot of those kinds of guys are the worst, right? Which sounds like something one of those guys would say, so pretend I didn't. But, yeah, I'm asking you on a date. A real date. One that we keep in touch after maybe if it goes okay? What do you think? But, oh...uh, why? Did something happen? I left town for a while, and it was...well, I don't know what it was."

Efe smiled. "Luna should meet Badger. That's my dog. He's pretty well-trained except when he's not." Raising an eyebrow, Efe broke into a laugh. "Yeah, the car wash bod is why I end up as July and August. What, are they gonna put all this in a parka? Come on. I work out." He wrinkled up his nose. "Manners. Respect for your elders. Good citizenship. That kind of thing. Nerdy as hell. I read books about submarines." He grimaced before allowing the smile to grow more sincere. "I think you're great. You helped organize that whole camp, and...look, I know a lot of people were weird as shit about it. But how many of them try to do do things for the good of all their neighbors? That counts for something."

Efe gave a low sigh, shaking his head. "He had this, like, rivalry with my ex-wife. So...they were weird. And that made me weird because I was on the outside of it," he explained. "But he's cool." Efe broke into another laugh. "Maybe not buff the way I'm buff, nah, but...come on, we'd look pretty good on a beach, huh?" He rolled his eyes with this joke before beginning to sort of half-sing the song, forgetting some of the lyrics and mumbling along the way. "See, you're talking clubs. I'm talking middle school dances and other people's weddings, I think. You know what other song I don't get? 'Piano Man.' That dick's just singing about what a loser everyone else but him is."

[mrsnancywheeler]

half return // finnick odair x reader

1.3k words

masterlist

summary: the capitol has its way of digging its claws in so deep that you're no longer even sure where it ends and you being. finnick tries to reassure you, even though you struggle to let him in.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, reader is an unreliable narrator, mentally unwell, and emotionally shut off, victor!reader, allusions to things doing with the games themselves, pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, unedited and short, just a treat so I can really get back into writing finnick

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The Capitol had a way of taking everything for you. Where you were supposed to find comfort in being in your District, even after the years that had passed, it still didn’t feel like it had before. It was almost like a rebirth, but not in a way that felt refreshing. It was more like a baptism of sludge, it made you slow, and tired, like tearing your skin off your bones. That wasn’t the life you’d been promised. No, the Capitol made winning their Games seem so illustrious, so alluring, with a big house where the roof never caved, enough food for a while for everyone in your district to go without starving, and all the fame someone from a District could ever dream of having. All of that was true, but what was the cost? After all this time it still felt like your sanity had slipped down the drain, and you didn’t even know who you were anymore.

That’s exactly how you felt as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Letting the thoughts consume you as the feeling of zoning out of reality into the dissonance of your own thoughts made your face distort itself. Maybe, you thought, this distorted version of yourself was closer to who you really were inside than any picture. Those too closely resembled who you once were, who you were supposed to be. Oh, the things you would do to have that life back.

“Everything okay in here?” Finnick’s voice cut through your thoughts, broke the illusion of the mirror, and startled you back into the even sadder reality.

“Hmmm?” You glanced at him, eyes wide, like you hadn’t quite heard him, although the words really just hadn’t fully registered in your brain yet, “Yeah, everythings good, everything is fine.”

You offer a halfhearted smile that’s trying its best to be so real, he deserves real. You know that, after all he’s been through, all he’s done for you, even just for putting up with you, and yet the days creep in where you can’t give him that. All you can do is try and fake it until you make it. Almost like you’d had to do in the Games, but now it was to stop the attention. You didn’t need him anymore worried, scared about you spiralling, you were, but he didn’t need to know that. He deserved to have a partner, that’s what he signed up for, not to deal with another person’s emotional baggage and trauma. That’s at the very least the excuse you gave yourself in order to make lying about it feel okay.

“You’ve been brushing your teeth for at least 10 minutes.” He’s smirking, chuckling a little, pushing himself further into the bathroom from where he was leaning in the doorway.

“Just really getting in there. I really can’t help it if I have better dental hygiene then most, it’s just a burden I have to carry.” You look away, rubbing your neck, before adjusting your eyes back into the mirror. God, you’re a mess. Life is a mess. You used to dream of no longer being a child, of the freedom that would come with it, and now as you look in the mirror you resent younger you for that wish. Growing old has not been a blessing, and that makes the fact that you fought so hard for it even more tragic.

Finnick’s arms are around you, arm crossing your body, holding onto your other shoulder, he’s pulling you into him. Face pressed to yours, it’s meant to be comforting, and you hate to admit to yourself that it is. You want to push this down, not let him comfort you for it. “What’s going on?” His voice is so soothing, he smells like the ocean, and it draws you in. Yet you must resists in some capacity.

“Finnick-” You turn your face away and after a second you feel him start to pull away. You can hear him trying to suppress his sigh, feel the way his shoulders slightly slump, and suddenly your blood is running with guilt. He wants to be there for you, to help, you know that even if you want to shield yourself from that type of support. However, the idea of disappointing, of hurting the man you love by hiding those parts of yourself, makes the pit in your stomach so much heavier. You really can’t help but fold to him. “Come with me.” You’re turning your face back to his.

His eyebrows furrow together, “Where? What’re you talking about, sweetheart?” One of his thumbs is rubbing circles onto your skin that make you want to melt into him, to cry, but you haven’t let yourself cry in at least a year. You won’t let yourself start now.

“My house, my old house, I wanna go see it.”

If he was anyone else you would’ve expected him to say something about the fact you were both currently in your pajamas, or how late it was, but he’s Finnick, your Finnick, and so all he does for a second is look into your eyes as if he’s seeing into the depths of your soul that you desperately don’t want him to see. “Okay.” He nods, and is pressing a kiss to your forehead before letting you go. You can’t help but miss and crave his touch the moment it’s gone.

It’s even later into the night by the time you’ve both gotten dressed again and are leaving the gilded cage of Victors Village. You don’t care though. This is the first time you’ve let Finnick come with you on one of these escapades, usually you make them in the middle of the day anyways, but you’re letting him in on this little thing you do for yourself. The opening on who you were, what your life was before the Capitol came and sunk its teeth in, draining you of all that you used to be, all you thought you were. The two of you walk in silence, but it’s not one of awkwardness or stagnation, no, it’s just exactly what it needs to be. You can hear the ocean hitting the rocks and the shore, feel the wind, smell the salt air, and in the smallest amount it can it brings a sliver of unwanted comfort.

Then you’re there. The old, dilapidated house, roof caving in on itself, moss growing up its walls. No one has moved in since you and your family moved out of it, it’s like a reminder that one of the Victors came from it, what even the poorest citizen could come out of through the Games. In reality though, there was no point in buying a house like this, it was basically begging to crash in on itself, and then the owner would be paying more to repair the house then they’d spent to purchase it. So, here it sat. Dead lawn, broken fence, and a childhood’s worth of dreams.

“Every time I expect it to make me feel like me again or something, I know it’s stupid, but I just can’t help it. And everytime it does absolutely nothing, but I can’t stop coming back.” You’ve never told anyone that before, why you crawl back to the ruins of your childhood, of life before. Searching desperately for comfort, for understanding of who you are, only for it never to be found. “I just want it to tell me who I am.”

“It’s not stupid.” Finnick means what he says, so earnestly, and though you’ve told yourself you won’t cry. That you can’t let yourself do that anymore, something about that small reassurance has the tears slipping out once again, and once you’ve started you can’t stop. You’re trying to cover your face, hide it in the moonlight, suppress the way sobs make your body shake, but you can’t. Not from him, never from him. He’s holding you before you’ve even fully devolved. “Whatever you need to help you, you do. Okay? It doesn’t get any easier, I can’t lie to you about that, but if you really don’t think you know who you are, then just ask. I know exactly who you are, even if you think I don’t, I see every side of you."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Thank you so much for reading, sorry it's so short, kind of using this as a jumping off point to get back into writing Finnick fics. As always likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are much appreciated. Love you all so much 💋

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ atlas bound

i'm sorry you couldn’t find me ; i have been in the woods i put myself there because i couldn’t be good. i have been running with foxes and running with crows & i have found myself a home where no one goes.

ଓ.° ・ arthur morgan. red dead redemption 2. ଓ.° ・ note: female reader. arthur refers to her as 'missus, ma'am, darling, sweetheart, honey, etc'. she is drunk ( and also very emotional and affectionate ). arthur carries reader bridal style. high honor!arthur. discusses the nature of his self-deprecation. in this house we love and support tht outlaw i dont care what he did !! he is Good to me. quote cr : florence welch. repost!

you're certainly more outspoken when you've had a bit too much to drink. scratch that, arthur muses -- a lot more outspoken. seldom does it happen, but in the far and few occasions it does, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. it's too god damn cute, the way you're much more honest, much more clingier.

( and what can he say? he loves taking care of you, loves the way you murmur those soft, half coherent love you's and thank you's a thousand times over. to be honest, he can't tell if you say it like a mantra because you're just that grateful or if it's because you're so wasted that you've forgotten you said it earlier. )

"darlin'," he can't help but chuckle, managing to shut the door to the hotel room, one arm around your back, the other under your knees as he holds you close, "you really done it now, you know that?"

an instant response.

"no, i didn't."

he pauses, shakes his head in amusement before he gently lowers you on the bed, helps you sit on the edge.

"you ain't even know what i'm talking about."

there's a feign, subtle hint of sternness in his tone, but you see through it with such ease. you just smile in return, though curiosity flickers in your slightly glossy eyes as he crouches before you, calloused hands slowly taking yours in his. he looks up at you, searching with that gentle look that only you have the privilege of knowing.

& there's so much love in those eyes, you think. you always think that, heart quickening and flourishing with affection, every beat yet another blossom in devotion. you could drown in those ocean hues, sink into reverence and reverie, forget the dangerous life you survive, and dream of better days.

this life is not an easy one, but as long as you are with him, you will make it through. you always will.

you take a deep breath, face suddenly very flushed -- and you wonder if it's the alcohol or the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you. a serene silence between two lovers in the night, hand in hand, so terribly in love in a world in which neither of you belong except to each other.

"arthur morgan," you suddenly blurt out, slipping your hands from his, only to cup his face with such quiet veneration, "i got some words for you, mister."

he blinks in surprise, brows raised slightly. his hands now rest on your thighs, thumbs occasionally tracing small circles against the fabric of your attire.

"some words, huh? i hope they're good ones."

...well, he's joking. kind of. but with the way your brows are slightly furrowed, focus utmost sharp... ah, well. shit. maybe he's really done it now.

"...i love you, arthur morgan." you say, words a little slurred. "...i think i said that before."

he takes a moment, lets out a small sigh of relief.

"...yeah, think i heard it once or twice." he responds, though there is only tenderness in his tone. "i love you too, sweetheart."

you stare. really hard. it's not quite a moment of intimacy, really-- it's more amusement on his end, and... whatever thought and feeling you're having on yours.

"okay." you say, and he almost laughs. you pinch his cheek, teasing. "but listen... 'm not done yet, mister."

"...alright, missus. i'm listenin', loud and clear."

you stay silent for a long while, just studying him intently, though your expression has relaxed, turned into something of an aching. he's not sure what you're thinking, not sure whether it's the alcohol that's getting you or something else, something deeper.

"...arthur," you finally speak up, "you're such a good man. i hope you know that."

he feels his heart break a little-- whatever remains of it, anyway. he looks up at you with wide eyes, and it doesn't take a second before he responds.

"...you know that's not true, sweetheart." a quiet answer, excruciatingly soft, just like the way he places his hands over yours. "i'm not a good man. got too much blood on my hands. did things i'm not proud of."

"you're good to me. to thousands of other people, arthur." you whisper, and he almost wonders if you've managed to sober up that quickly. "we all got blood on our hands, love. you could bathe them in red, for god's sake, and i'll still hold them."

he stills. his heart pounds against his chest, longs to be free from the thorns of doubt that have dug themselves deep into his existence.

"honey--"

"i wish you could see yourself the way i see you." your voice wavers slightly. "i see the way you look at yourself in the mirror, arthur. i hate it." a crack in your voice, and then in the decayed humanity that lays in his chest. "i hate it, love. i wish you could see all the good in you, all that kindness you got and share. you're so good, arthur, and you won't let yourself believe it. i wish you would. i wish you'd be as kind to yourself as you are to the world."

he finds himself speechless, uncertain. afraid. he wants to protest, wants to say otherwise-- because it's all he knows. he's never been a good person. he's killed, robbed-- but he's also saved, given when he's always had so little.

"...tell me that you'll learn to believe it." you say. "i don't care if it takes a week, a year, or the rest of our lives. i don't care if we're old and gray. just tell me you'll try. please, arthur."

there's a strange numbness in the beating of his heart, and just the slightest bit of wonder -- christ, you were so drunk and nonsensical just a few moments ago, and now you're here, on the verge of tears with nothing but ardency in your voice.

he wants to refuse, wants to decline, but he can't. he can never refuse you.

"i'll..." he clears his throat. "for you, i'll try. ain't making no promises, though."

you smile, and he cannot help but return it, though there's a quiet hesitance and reluctance beneath it all, and you see it.

"thank you." you lean down, press a kiss to his forehead. "i love you, mr. morgan." a pause, then a little hint of confusion in your eyes, the intensity suddenly gone ( and ah, he realizes-- still drunk as hell ). "i think i've told you that before. maybe..." you murmur, suddenly deep in thought about something so entirely casual in comparison to the previous conversation that happened, what, a few seconds ago?

still, he cannot help but laugh, and the curve of your lips grows more gentle at the sound. it was a matter of time before you started repeating yourself, anyway.

"yeah, you might've told me." he smiles when you lean down, lips pressing against his in a blithe kiss. "love you too, you drunken fool."

( you won't remember this in the early hours of the morning, he thinks, but he will, forever and always. it's just the faintest bittersweetness that comes with that realization, he contemplates, eventually climbing into bed with you, pulling the covers up as you practically drape yourself over him.

you won't remember this, and his mind haunts him ever so, tells him that you're just being kind, just taking pity. you won't remember it, and maybe you don't really mean all of it. but you have no reason to lie, and you never would-- but the heart and soul is a cruel being, and he cannot shake the thought.

he falls asleep to such troubling thoughts-- nothing new, not really. there hasn't been a single moment in his life where he granted kindness to himself.

& so he wakes to a peaceful sunlight, a nice hotel room, a comfy bed, and a certain half-awake, hungover someone next to him. he pauses, relives the memories of last night, and his mind wanders. he sees the way you look at him : a little disoriented, a little groggy, and it's only a second before your eyes light up the moment you notice he's awake, the radiance in your features so blinding and brilliant sometimes. and it's that very moment, he realizes -- in the way you look at him like he's the god damn world, that you meant every single word last night, drunk or not.

he holds you a little tighter, offering silent greeting through shared warmth. somewhere in that little space between your bodies is a gratefulness, and in time, he thinks, he'll learn to be kind to himself. )

[maximwtf]

“Limits.”

Baizhu x Reader

Words: 1550

Google Docs Pages: 2,5

Warnings: Lantern Rite 2025 spoilers, established relationship, injury recovery, comfort, idk nothing too emotional. 

Opening: Hu Tao drags you back to Bubu in poor shape after saving her, but your partner isn’t quite as happy about this sacrifice. Too bad he’d sacrifice himself for you as well, so you’re in good hands. 

AN// G/N Reader. I have a request to write but because my main finally was let out the basement and got content AND he was voiced…I felt like this came first. But also because I wanted this part to be included in the Lantern Rite cut scene but it wasn’t so…Haha, I didn’t make this too long or detailed, since I have other stuff to work on. Hope it’s still okay :”D

“Limits.”

The amount of fetor your body had been exposed to far exceeded the amount you’d expected to face. But none of the efforts had been in vain. Since whatever had happened after, you’d made sure Hu Tao was alive and well before ultimately collapsing in exhaustion. 

And she was well. Enough so, to having taken the task of getting you back for treatment on herself. You had no memory of this, barely bits and pieces of the journey. Flashes of small bits of road, faint sounds of Hu Tao cheering herself on under her breath and a faint memory of stairs. A feeling you'd had each time, of wanting to ease her burden of dragging you back by getting back on your feet. But the overwhelming exhaustion prevented you from moving, there was no arguing against it. 

It was already dark by the time Hu Tao had made it back to Bubu pharmacy. Allowing herself a moment of rest when Baizhu helped her by taking on some of the weight of your collapsed form, brows furrowed in worry. His hand brushed back some of the lost strands of hair from your face while diligently checking your vitals. Most of the actions done so automatically on the spot he hadn’t even noticed doing them. 

He felt displeased, most of that stemming from worry. A part of him not fully comprehending the fact that you’d willingly gone and done something so dangerous. But then again, you had saved the life of the funeral parlor’s director successfully. That fact confused his thought process, not really knowing who to be displeased with.  Ultimately deciding that maybe it was better if those feelings weren’t directed at anyone. There were more pressing matters at hand. 

That didn’t stop him from mumbling a few rather opinionated comments under his breath while helping Hu Tao escort you to the back room for a more thorough exam. Laying your form neatly on to the bed before going over to the shelves. Mind ticking to find anything to ease the exhaustion that he’d concluded as the cause for the collapse. You needed rest, that much was clear. But he couldn’t have you sleeping without consuming anything for an extended amount of time. That would far increase the risk of more harm than good. 

In his hurry to find the best possible medicine, he’d forgotten to thank Hu Tao. Furthermore, he’d forgotten that the girl needed a check up as well. She’d been in the very same place as you, and therefore having had the fetor run through her as well. 

“Ah, indeed. Thank you, Director Hu. Once their condition is stable, I suggest you come in for a check up as well.” He spoke swiftly, an attempt to hide the worry in his tone from the other and himself. He wouldn’t have been of much help to anyone if any of those selfish feelings were to come through now. 

He couldn’t see the reaction of the Director, merely hearing an agreeing ‘okay’ before she saw it best to leave the doctor to perform his duty in peace. The silence so dreadful when he finally seated himself beside the bed. 

He did what he could. Applying all the medicine he could think of that had a chance of easing your condition, taking note of any changes with your vitals. By now having realised that this case with the fetor could have been of use in further research. Then again, that could have been a desperate attempt to distract himself from the identity of the patient he was caring for. It was an odd feeling, seeing something he held close to his heart be injured and unresponsive. 

But he knew better than to rue over something that couldn’t be changed anymore. He’d done what he could, knowing that since the fetor didn’t exactly cause an illness, it meant there was nothing he could heal. Merely ease the effects of it now and hope that your recovery would perhaps be sped up by the medicine. 

Time passed faster than he expected. The situation had taken such a strain on his condition, he’d barely noticed when he had started nodding off. Changsheng sensed the stress of the situation, not daring to start waking Baizhu up again once he’d fallen asleep by the bed. Thinking it best to allow him rest now, rather than waking him up and having the man fuss over you again for the rest of the night. His body could hardly take the strain, no matter if he always argued otherwise. 

Thankfully his dignity was saved, since you hadn’t shown any signs of waking up the next morning either. Only, he’d received a few displeased looks and comments from Changsheng over him straining himself like he’d done. After another overly thorough examination, he’d been able to only conclude that you appeared fine on the outside. Deciding it best to start off his day to get his mind off of the situation. Knowing all he could do was to wait for your body to naturally wake up again. 

The day kept him busy with all the check ups he had to do with the patients affected with fetor previously, allowing him to take his mind off of your condition. It was only after Zhongli had come in to visit you that he’d received the news of your conscious state. The other man having seen it best to start leaving so Baizhu had space to make sure nothing fatal had happened due to the extreme exposure to fetor. 

He hurried to the back room, relieved to find you sitting on the bed with a hand on your forehead. Seemingly having just woken up. “Well, good morning,” his usual voice greeted you and immediately gained the attention he’d missed. “You know, you’re lucky your constitution is as strong as it is. You dealt a serious blow back there.” He continued, a hint of stress apparent in his voice. But maybe that was only to your more trained ear. You were aware of how skilled he was with holding himself back for the sake of others, and that included you. 

But he was right, of course. But even if you’d survived, the feeling after wasn’t pleasant. Your head still felt heavy with exhaustion, not to mention the overpowering feeling of wanting to lay back down and sleep. It took every ounce of willpower you had left to muster up a few words. “Could I have a drink?” Like an automatic request. You hadn’t even noticed how thirsty you were, so far having no idea how long you’d been out for. 

Baizhu had been already on it, handing you the cool cup right after hearing the request. “You’ve been asleep for quite some time…” He spoke up again, keeping up conversation in order to keep you awake. It wasn’t hard to tell you kept nodding off every once in a while. So he proceeded to raise his voice a little then, give you a gentle push while checking your vitals again.

Gentle with his process, he made one final check up and agreed to let his mind rest after. It truly seemed to only be exhaustion from taking the blow of the ritual. You’d be fine with proper rest, as much as he’d feared otherwise. 

The cooling drink ran out faster than you would have hoped, placing the empty cup beside the bed. “You know, I can tell you’re worrying,” voice a little more clearer this time. “But I feel fine, the drowsiness aside…” You tried to chuckle a little to lighten up the mood. “He stayed up almost all night watching over you.” Changsheng spoke up before the man himself was able to, exposing his little endeavors the previous night. “Baizhu-..” You were able to begin the all too practised lecture, only to be interrupted by him. “I’m keenly aware of my limits, unlike some,” he allowed a sight to escape. Letting out some of the built up stress from the ordeal. “That was a trick I do not wish for you to perform again..” He sat down beside you on the bed, brushing some of your hair back with a gentle motion. In the end, pulling you in for a light embrace which was gladly returned soon after. “I think the Funeral Parlor will be in check for some time after this…No need for another rescue, don’t worry.” You hummed, feeling your eyes start to close once again. 

Baizhu pulled back, feeling your weight start to shift on to him a little more. “They may be fine, but you..” He laid you down gently, standing back up. “Are not. Which is exactly why you’re going to rest so that no lasting damage will raise its head.” Baizhu explained with the usual firm tone behind his words, knowing fully well that he wasn't going to let you walk this off. But wanting to believe that your negotiable nature wasn’t due to exhaustion, but instead out of wanting to ease the mind of the other. “Alright…” 

You could see the warm smile on his face before your eyes forced themselves shut. Only feeling the light peck he pressed against your forehead before outstretching his hand to allow Changsheng to climb back up to his shoulders. “Rest well, dear.” He said silently, before exiting the room. Now with a little more peace of mind.

[secretlittlerandezvous]

The Puck Incident - Clayton Keller

Summary: After witnessing Clayton take a puck to the face during a game, Y/n is overcome with worry even though he insists he’s fine. She confronts him after the game, frustrated by his tendency to brush off injuries and put hockey above his own well-being.

Words: 684

It happened in the second period. The puck flew off the goalie’s pads and flew straight toward Clayton. Y/n’s heart stopped beating as the puck collided with his face. She watched as Clayton staggered back but managed to stay on his feet. Her throat tightened as she saw the couch calling him to the bench, but Clayton waved him off, skating off like it was no big deal.

Y/n’s stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t shake the image of him getting hit like that. Her mind raced, and even though she knew he was strong, that he was fine, the worry wasn’t going anywhere. It was hard to relax after that. Every shift, every time Clayton took the puck, she couldn’t focus on anything except the idea that he might get hurt again.

By the time the game ended, Clayton was all smiles, shaking hands with his teammates and celebrating the win. But Y/n couldn’t stop the anxiety building up inside her. She needed to talk to him. She needed him to understand just how scared she was.

When Clayton found her in the hallway after the game, he had a wide grin on his face, but before he could say anything, Y/n didn’t hold back.

“Clayton, what the hell was that?” she asked, her voice sharp.

He blinked, confused. “What are you talking about? We won!” He said with a smile.

“You took a puck to the face! You didn’t even stop to get checked out!” she snapped, her hands now on her hips. “You could’ve been seriously hurt, and you didn’t even take it seriously!”

Clayton frowned, trying to keep calm. “Y/n, it’s fine. It was nothing. It happens all the time.”

“That’s not the point!” she said. “You’re so stubborn about your health. It could have been worse! What if you had a concussion or something serious? You act like it’s no big deal, but I can’t just ignore it!”

Clayton shook his head, trying to explain. “It really wasn’t that bad. I’m fine. I promise.”

But Y/n’s frustration only built. “You always do this, Clayton! You act like it’s nothing and all I can do is just sit there and watch.”

Her voice cracked slightly, the anger morphing into fear. She hated seeing him in danger. She hated feeling like she couldn’t protect him.

Clayton’s expression softened as he stepped closer, placing a hand on her arm. “Y/n, I get it. I know you’re worried, but I’m okay. I really am. No need to freak out over it.”

But Y/n wasn’t done yet. “This is serious, Clayton! Why don’t you care about at all?”

He paused, feeling the weight of her words. He had always been the one to brush off minor injuries, but now he realized just how much it affected her.

“I do care, Y/n,” he said quietly, “But I don’t want to leave my team hanging. That’s why I stayed in the game.”

Y/n exhaled in frustration. “I get that, but I don’t want you to keep playing when you’re hurt. I can’t keep watching this happen.”

Clayton stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Y/n bit her lip, holding back tears. It wasn’t about the injury anymore, it was about the fear she felt every time he stepped on that ice. “You don’t get it, Clayton. It’s not about the game or the injury. It’s about us. I can’t keep doing this, watching you risk and not knowing if you’ll come back to me in one piece.”

He pulled her close, holding her tightly as she buried her face in his chest. “I’ll be more careful.” He whispered.

Y/n’s voice was muffled against his shirt as she spoke. “I need you to take care of yourself.”

Clayton nodded, squeezing her tighter.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. “I just want you safe,” she whispered.

“I’ll stay safe for you,” he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “I promise.”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Stand By Me (Part 3)

You knew it was coming.

Your mother wasn’t the type to let things go. The silence—the control she was losing over you—was like a lit fuse, and you knew it was only a matter of time before it blew.

Marshall knew it, too.

He never said it outright, but he stayed a little closer, held you a little longer, kept his phone on him more than usual, like he was waiting for the moment she finally snapped.

And when she did?

It was worse than you ever could have imagined.

---

It happened on a Sunday.

You had just started to feel okay again—just started to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could move forward without the weight of your mother’s words dragging you down.

Then your phone rang.

You stared at the screen, dread settling heavy in your gut.

Mom calling.

You almost let it go to voicemail. But something told you that if you didn’t pick up, she wouldn’t stop. That she’d just keep calling, keep finding ways to push herself back into your life.

So you answered.

And from the second you said hello, it was a mistake.

“Oh, so you do still know how to pick up the phone,” she snapped. No greeting. No warmth.

You swallowed. “Mom—”

“No, don’t start,” she cut you off. “I have sat here for weeks wondering what the hell I did to deserve this. You ignoring me? Treating me like I’m some kind of villain?”

Your grip on the phone tightened. “Mom, I’m not—”

“Shut up!” she screamed, her voice cracking through the line.

You flinched.

Marshall, who had been in the kitchen, immediately looked up, his expression hardening.

“I gave you everything!” your mother raged. “And this is how you repay me? By cutting me off? By choosing him over your own family?”

Your heart pounded. “This isn’t about Marshall—”

“Bullshit! He did this to you! He poisoned you against me!”

Marshall was watching now, his entire body tense, his fists clenched. He couldn’t hear her words, but he didn’t need to. He could see the way they were hitting you like knives, the way you were curling in on yourself.

And that was enough.

Before you could stop him, he was next to you, pressing the speaker button.

“If you got somethin’ to say about me,” he said, his voice calm but deadly, “say it to my face.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“You piece of shit,” your mother spat. “You ruined her. You took her from me.”

Marshall scoffed. “Nah, lady. You did that all on your own.”

Her breath hitched. “How dare you—”

“I dare ’cause someone had to tell you the truth,” he cut her off. “You don’t get to treat her like garbage and still expect her to come runnin’ back. You don’t get to guilt her into keepin’ you in her life.”

You swallowed hard, gripping Marshall’s hand like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“You know what your problem is?” Marshall continued. “You thought you could break her down so much that she’d never leave. But guess what? She did. And she ain’t comin’ back.”

The line was so quiet you almost thought she had hung up.

Then, in a low, venomous voice, she hissed, “She will. When you get tired of her. When you finally throw her away like you do with everyone else.”

Marshall’s jaw clenched, his entire body going rigid. You could feel the anger radiating off of him, the way his breathing deepened.

But before he could say anything, you spoke.

“No,” you said softly, but firmly. “He won’t.”

Your mother let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, honey, wake up. He’s Eminem. He’s not built to love anyone. He’s just playing house with you until he gets bored.”

You felt Marshall flinch beside you.

And maybe, once, you would have believed her. Maybe, once, her words would have sent you spiraling, had you questioning everything.

But not anymore.

Not after everything he had done to prove otherwise.

“He loves me,” you said simply. “And he treats me better than you ever have.”

Your mother sucked in a breath, like you had physically struck her.

And for the first time, you felt free.

She could rage, she could insult you, she could twist the knife all she wanted—but she couldn’t control you anymore.

You had made your choice.

And it wasn’t her.

“Don’t call me again,” you said, voice steady. Then, without waiting for a response, you ended the call.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Marshall was still staring at the phone, like he half-expected it to ring again.

You let out a shaky breath, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“You okay?” His voice was rough, edged with anger he hadn’t been able to unleash.

You exhaled, dropping your hands. “Yeah.” And then, quieter, “I think I really am.”

He studied you for a long moment, like he was making sure you weren’t just saying that. Then, finally, he sighed and pulled you into his arms, holding you so tight it knocked the breath out of you.

��I got you,” he murmured. “Always.”

And you believed him.

For the first time, you really, truly believed him.