#i have to walk All The Way down to the post office and over bc theres no way over the traintracks thats close to where i need to go :

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[boothillssugarmomma]

sunday likes shiny stuff bc ravens likes shiny stuff, its just an idea

I love that idea! Birds all like shiny stuff so I could see him sneaking away with your jewelry and trinkets!

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Shiny Treasures

(Sunday x Fem!Reader)

cw-: lying Sunday, fluff, embarrassed boy, nervous boy 🤭

🎀 authorsnote: I literally was supposed to post this three weeks ago I'm so sorry 😭

please don't steal my work!

🎀Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀 Other Lists🎀

Sunday had...a certain fondness for shiny things...a rather childish and unanticipated flaw to his character, really. No matter how small, insignificant or worthless they were.

Perhaps it had something to do with the halovians' innate desire for attention and glory, that would explain it. Or maybe it was because he was like a bird. But whatever the case, he was rather drawn to the gleam of precious gems and glittery accessories.

He sometimes tries to snatch your jewelry, thinking that you wouldn't notice, but fails miserably and you find that adorable.

"Hey hon do you know where that necklace I was wearing yesterday went?" You hum, peeking into his office.

Your boyfriend is hard at work, staring at some papers with concentration as he writes on them.

Sunday looked at you through the corner of his eye. His eyes looked a bit panicked before he started to concentrate on his papers again, but at this moment, he was just pretending.

"No, I don't...why my love?"

He answered with a simple reply. He thought that might work, right?

"Oh really?" You smile as you lean against the doorway. "I was going to wear it to that event we need to go to tonight."

Sunday stayed silent. And for some reason, his face started to redden a bit.

He knew that you weren't a fool. Why did he even think that you didn't know he stole your jewelry? Sunday sighed.

"Fine."

He opened his left drawer to carefully pick up your necklace and hold it out to you. Blushing as he looks away.

You snicker walking forward to lean down and kiss his forehead. "I know you like shiny things baby...but try to work on it?" Your voice soothes his embarrassment a bit.

Sunday looks at you, his face going even redder when you kissed his forehead.

"Mhm...I will...sorry"

He answered softly. He definitely didn't want to admit that he had an unhealthy obsession with shiny things, but he knew you already learned his secret anyways.

"Now...do you know where my rings are?" You glance into his eyes, yours have a hint of amusement while his are just plain panic.

"N-No..."

Sunday looked away. You knew he was lying again. He was bad at it, and he knew that you probably knew he was acting. You couldn't help but find that adorable.

"You must have placed them in our room...maybe on the nightstand!" He stammers a bit with his lie.

This wasn't like him and he hated it, the lying was killing him even if it couldn't be helped. He knew you weren't mad, you were amused, you loved his obsessions. But he still felt out of control with himself.

"Okkk..." You hum before kissing his nose. "So if I were to...check my nightstand in an hour...would they be back?" Your eyes narrow playfully as they gaze into his.

He blushed again. He really wasn't good at lying. Especially to you...his lovely girlfriend.

"Y-yes."

He replied. Sunday still found it quite difficult to look at you in the eyes while he was embarrassed like this. Why did he even steal them in the first place?

"Alright my little dove..." You smile softly, walking to the door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. "Oh and I wanted to tell you that I hung the suit you'll be wearing up on your door for when you get ready."

"T-Thank you, darling."

Sunday sighed of relief. He thought that you were going to keep asking him for jewelry back, reminding him of his little habit for the rest of the day. Sunday stood and followed to the door to grab his suit.

He quickly decided to give you a kiss on the cheek as a way to apologize for his silly behaviour.

"Let me know when you want me to help tie your tie. I'll be in our room." You smile before walking down the corridor out of his sight.

"Mhm, will do."

Sunday let out a heavy breath. Now that you're out of his sight, he has time to collect himself. He can't stop thinking about the feeling of your skin on his lips.

His thoughts always go crazy when you're around.

After he starts to prepare himself for the event, reading over his speech, making quick changes. He finally slips his suit on before glancing into his office mirror and remembering his tie.

He walks down the corridor where you had walked a bit previously into your shared room.

Glancing in he notices you sitting at your vanity, clearly doing your last preparations as well. His eyes soften as he watches you, his beautiful dove.

Finally he cleared his throat and spoke. "Hey, darling? Do you mind helping out a bit?" Holding the tie up he blushes embarrassed.

"Hmm?" You hum looking over your shoulder and glance at his undone tie. A warm laugh escapes your lips before you nod. "Cmere honey."

He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your back. He looked at your neck, and decided to give a little peck to it. He then hid his face in your shoulders.

"I don't know why, but I feel quite embarrassed right now. I mean I should be able to do my own tie..." Sunday sighs softly. "Please Help me out, will you darling...?" He asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.

"Of course my love..." You hum, making quick work to turn around and start tying his tie.

His eyes catch a glint of light out of the corner of them. Glancing to your vanity he notices a pair of sparkly diamond earrings, ones he bought for you no doubt.

He caught himself looking at the earrings. But he was just so tempted to take them right now, but decided to try to restrain himself.

Sunday waited patiently for you to tie his tie. He found this kind of bonding with you wholesome...if only he wasn't thinking about those damned earrings.

He couldn't handle it anymore, so when you were distracted he used his arm length to his advantage and swiped the earrings, putting them in his pocket.

Sunday felt a sense of guilt, stealing your earrings, but he also felt satisfied. He had to act normal now, and hope you didn't notice he pocketed your earrings.

"All done!" You smile brightly as you turn to the mirror to show him. "God you look so handsome..."

His blush returns, even though he's used to your compliments...he can't ever get used to the notion that you're his. "Thank you, darling. You look absolutely stunning yourself."

He said, and gave you a smile. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your hair lightly.

You both stand there for a few minutes, gazing at the mirror and at each other. But eventually the silence had to be broken.

"Ok! Go grab your speech and we can head out!" You smile patting his chest. He nods softly before you watch him walk to the door.

Sunday was obviously trying to rush out of the room, with a sense of panic in his mind that maybe you somehow noticed the earrings he just swiped.

"Oh and Sunday?"

His body tenses as he places a hand on the doorway. He gulps a bit before turning to you. "Y-Yes honey?"

"Earrings please." You snicker before holding your hand out. Eyes amused instead of angry.

"You noticed...?"

He asked, looking at your hand nervously. He slowly reached for his pocket and took out the earrings, reaching to hand them to you while looking away. He was as red as a flame spawn...

"It's hard not to when you bumped my waist with your hand while trying to reach for them..." You roll your eyes playfully.

He looks down at the ground, his wings drooping a bit. You gently cup his face and tilt his head upwards a bit.

"I could never get mad at my cute little dove..." You kiss his cheek. "Its kinda cute..."

"Heh...you mean that?"

He let out a sigh of relief. At least you didn't get mad at him for stealing your jewelry. He still had a hint of curiosity in his eyes though, wondering just how much jewelry you had.

Instead of asking he just gave you a small peck on the nose.

"My little Halovian..." You chuckle softly. "Such a jewelry snatcher." Walking to the front door, slipping your heels on. "Is your sister also like this?"

"Oh believe me...hah, she's worse."

"...remind me to never bring jewelry around her."

"Noted, my dear."

🎀End🎀

[hazelfoureyes]

before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

[nocturnalcharm]

A Change in Attitude (Wolverine x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: everyone knows logan as the gruff man with a grumpy demeanor. but that changes when you’re around 𐙚 cw: sexually suggestive themes (no smut), kinda innocent!reader, dirty minded!logan (heheh i couldn’t resist), can’t think of anything else 𐙚 a/n: thanks for the req! <33 only proofread once bc i was so excited to post hehe

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“I’m so glad you accepted my invitation. Well, Charles’ invitation.” Hank was beaming, giving you a tight hug.

“Me too! Being a research assistant isn’t as fun as being an X-Men.” You gushed.

You and Hank had been friends for years, meeting when you were just kids. Your powers developed around the same time, making you lean on each other, since no one else could relate. Recently, he and Charles asked you to join the team, and you excitedly accepted. Who would turn down an opportunity like this?

You didn’t know much about the others, just what Hank told you, which was really just their names and powers, not their personality.

You walked into the building, taking a deep breath and accepting that this would be your life from here on out.

“Everyone’s in Charles’ office.” Hank made you aware. You nodded as he led you there.

Walking inside the office, you saw everyone for the first time. Colossus, Storm, Gambit, Cyclops… and Wolverine.

Logan was looking out the window, not paying attention to anything, while everyone else was thrilled to have a new team member.

“Ah, welcome, (Y/N)!” Charles greeted you. He introduced himself, as if you didn’t already know who he was. He went around the room and also introduced all the X-Men. When he said Logan’s name, he finally looked at you, and your stomach made you feel like you were on a rollercoaster just from his eye contact.

“I was thinking, we could all go out back and give a short demonstration of our powers. Does that sound alright to you?” Charles was so polite.

“Yes, that sounds perfect, Professor.” You smiled brightly.

As everyone shuffled their way to the yard, you caught Logan’s eye again. His frown and furrowed brow faded as he watched you walk outside, staring at you. You blushed, hiding your smile by turning away.

Once outside, everyone spread apart and prepared to show you their powers. They each did a speedy presentation, just showing you what they can do, or explaining their abilities. You cheered for everyone, wowed by what they could do! Yet again, Logan went last.

He stepped forward. “I have regenerative abilities. Oh, and these.” In a flash, he unsheathed his metal claws.

It took your breath away for a moment. “Nice! Very impressive.”

He nodded in thanks, returning to his original spot.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” Hank tapped your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. Um.. My ability is bioluminescence. My hair glows on command, and I can create and throw light. It’s kinda similar to a ball of fire.” You placed your hands together, generating a small ball of light, before throwing it at a target in the yard, hitting a bullseye. The light ripped right through the fabric mark.

You got a few “oo’s” and “ahh’s” from the others, and from some of the students passing by.

“So that’s why your hair is blue! It’s so pretty.” Ororo ran over to you.

“Thanks! I like your hair too.” You smiled at her. You glanced at Logan to see his reaction, and he was already staring at you (again), with a smirk on his face.

“Amazing! So, (Y/N), tomorrow I want you to focus on combat training. While your ability is powerful, you might not always be able to rely on it. So, Logan will train you one-on-one, since he’s our best fighter. I want to see you two together at 8am in the training facility.”

“Yes sir.” You bowed your head in understanding.

The other X-Men dispersed, besides Hank and Logan.

“C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.” Logan walks over to you.

“Uh-” Before you could answer, Hank interjected.

“I’ve got it, Logan.” He replied.

“We’re gonna be training together anyway, might as well show her around. Get to know her.”

“Since when do you ‘get to know’ anyone?”

“Since now. Beat it, bub.”

Hank muttered a quick “I’ll catch up with you later.” And left you to the Wolverine himself.

Logan took you on a tour of the mansion, showing you just about every room. You had already forgotten where everything was by the end of it, besides the more important rooms. Throughout the tour, Logan was joking around with you, which you thought was strange. Not in a bad way! Just from his demeanor, you didn’t expect him to be the joking type, but you suppose you read him wrong when you first met. He was cracking you up throughout the entire tour.

Lastly, he led you down a long hallway. “The bathroom’s right here. It’s shared, so lock the door.” He winked. “And this is your room.” It was the last one on the right.

“Where’s your room?” You asked, and he pointed to the door right across from yours. “Oh! Convenient.” You laughed, thinking since you two were paired together, it was funny your rooms were next to each others; You didn’t even realize how it could come across as suggestive. He hid his smug grin.

You walked inside. The room was perfect for you. A nice bed, a closet, wardrobe, mirror, and a big window. There was also a small TV mounted to the wall. It’s all you could have asked for.

“Thanks for the tour!” You said as you walked over to your bags. Assuming Logan would leave you be, you started to unpack.

You pulled out the first packing cube in your suitcase, which just so happened to be filled with your underwear. You opened the wardrobe drawer and started to put away your panties.

“Y’need help unpacking?” You heard Logan’s gruff voice right behind you, making you jump.

“I-” You put your hands behind your back, hiding your underwear. “No, thank you.” A rose tint made its way to your cheeks.

“It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of. We all wear underwear. You just happen to wear panties with little pink bows on them.” He winked at you.

“Oh my God.” You whisper, “I-I’m good. Thank you, Logan.” You usher him to the door.

“You sure? No matching bra I can help you put away?” He jested.

“Nope! No thank you! I’ll see you tomorrow!” You ushered him out, shutting the door, putting your back against it, and sighing.

Once you had most of your clothes put away, it was already 10pm. You didn’t eat dinner, since you felt too awkward to face Logan after the event that took place earlier. You just decided to take a quick shower, then head to bed.

You grabbed your essentials and went to the bathroom. The halls were quiet and dark, letting you know everyone else was likely already asleep. You showered quickly, wanting to rest up since you had combat training in the morning. Rushing through your routine, you were done in about fifteen minutes.

As you wrapped your towel around your body, you realized you forgot to bring your pajamas into the bathroom.

You groaned in frustration, but assumed it was fine since everyone was already away in their rooms. You grabbed your things and decided to make a run for it. Your room wasn’t too far from the bathroom. You unlocked the door, swinging it open and running— before knocking into something so hard, it made you fall backwards.

“Huh?” You hear a rough voice grunt out. Logan.

Of course it’s him.

You quickly repositioned your towel to cover yourself, while he turned around, confused. Looking down at you, he laughed.

“Are you okay?”

“I forgot my clothes…” You ignored his question, and completely forgot to ask why he’s standing in the middle of the hallway at night.. He offered his hand and you accepted, pulling you up like you weighed nothing. It was impressive. He leaned down, grabbing your shampoo and such for you, while you scurried off to your room. He followed right behind you.

“Sorry.” You apologize, as he sets your things on your dresser.

“Are you okay?” He asked again.

“Mhm, I’m fine. Thank you.”

You two stood there, for what felt like forever, staring at each other, only illuminated by the moonlight shining through your open window. You could use your powers right now, to glow, and light up the room, but you weren’t sure you wanted him to see you in a towel.

“I’m gonna get dressed now.” You break the silence.

“Oh, yeah. Goodnight, (Y/N).” He looked pleased.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

***

You’ve been tossing and turning in your bed for hours, with it now being 1am. You didn’t know why you couldn’t sleep; a new place, the thought of spending alone time with Logan in a few short hours, or the fact that your stomach pinged in pain from not eating dinner.

After wrestling with your thoughts, you decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and get a snack. Just a quick one, to settle your stomach.

You slipped out of your room and headed straight for the pantry. There were dried berries, nuts, jerky; lots of healthy options. You grabbed a small package of trail mix and sat at the bar, tearing it open immediately.

Lost in your snack, you didn’t even see Logan enter the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” His voice startled you, making you yelp in fear. “Wasn’t trying to scare you, doll.” He laughed.

The nickname made your stomach flip. “I didn’t eat dinner, and I couldn’t go to bed.”

“S’alright. Just messing with you. But you should be sleeping. How else are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

“You mean ‘take you on’?” You emphasized.

“Yeah. Sure... Cute PJ’s.”

You looked down at your clothes; an oversized t-shirt and red plaid shorts. “Ha ha. Thanks.” You responded, sarcastically.

“C’mon, you can finish your snack in your room. You need to sleep.” He helped you up from the stool and walked you to your bedroom.

Once he turned around to go to his own bed, you said “Goodnight, Lo.” Giving him a nickname, since he gave you one.

He stopped in his tracks, and turned around. The smile on his face was something you could stare at forever.

“Goodnight, doll.”

***

The alarm on your phone woke you up, after the few short hours you slept. You dragged yourself out of bed and slipped on a tank top and Nike shorts. Then, you went to the bathroom; brushed your hair, teeth and freshened up before heading to breakfast.

Once you entered the kitchen, there was a lot of people— X-Men, teachers, and students alike. Only the X-Men, who were grouped at a table in the corner, noticed your appearance. Ororo waved you over, so you swiftly grabbed something to eat, and sat down next to her.

“G’morning!” You said, cheerfully, trying to hide your sleepiness.

They all greeted you back.

“How’d you sleep?” Ororo asked, making you glance towards Logan, who was trying to hide his laughter.

“Eh. I couldn’t really.” You shrugged. “Just nerves, I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s terrible, especially since you have to train with Claws over there. He doesn't really take it easy on anyone.” She jokes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll loosen up, just for today.” He had a satirical tone in his voice.

“Aw! Claws has got a heart today, huh!” Ororo laughed.

“Just for (Y/N).” He stood up, taking his now-empty plate over to the sink. You ate quickly, wanting to get a start on your day. Logan noticed your clear bowl, which a few moments ago was inhabited by fruit.

“Let’s go! We’ve got a lot to work on.” His tone was dramatic, teasing.

“Okay, Lo. I’m coming.” You stood from your seat.

Everyone looked at you like you had just sprouted another limb from your forehead.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hank replied hastily, “Have fun.”

“C’mon.” Logan wrapped an arm around your shoulders in order to hurry you out the door faster.

Walking down the endless hallways of the mansion, you two finally reached the training facility. It was a huge, open room with a tumbling mat covering the floor. On one of the walls was a huge window, looking into a room with stadium seating— no doubt to have students watch and learn.

He started you out with conditioning; jumping jacks, running laps, planking, and everything else you could think of. You had already broken into a sweat after 10 minutes due to his intense regimen.

He continued his teachings, showing you how to throw a proper punch (which he made you test out on his stomach), evading attacks, and good footwork.

“You’re pretty agile. Do you have any background in fighting? Or acrobatics?”

“Yeah, I did gymnastics for 14 years. I’d hope by now I’d be pretty nimble.” You laughed, and he had a look of awe on his face.

Hours later, you were finally putting his teachings into use.

“We’re gonna spar now. I’m not going hit you, but you’re going to really hit me. Okay?”

You looked worried, and your eyes dropped to the ground. “Uh, I don’t know—”

“Hey.” He brought your attention back up to his face. “Regenerative healing. Metal skeleton. You can’t hurt me with your fists or feet. I promise.”

You just nodded.

“So, again. Come at me with everything you got. If you manage to knock me out of the ring, you win. If I pin you down, I win. We’ll stop training for today after this.”

“Okay.” Your voice wavered.

You two walk over to the mat with a big, white circle on it, and stand on opposite sides.

“Ready?” He cocks his head with the faintest smirk on his face, knowing you had just about no chance of winning. Of course you were unaware of that.

“Mhm!”

“Set. Go!”

He immediately runs at you, and the first thing you can think of is to kick his side. You raised your leg, and struck his ribs as hard as you could.

Quickly, so quick you didn’t understand what was happening, he grabbed your leg and pulled, sweeping your legs out from under you. You landed on the ground with a thud. It shocked you, unable to think for a moment.

But that moment was all it took for Logan to pin you to the ground, straddling your stomach. You tried to wiggle your way free, pushing his body with all your might, but it was no use. You were immobile.

You tapped his shoulder, signaling your loss. He got up and extended a hand to help you.

“I thought you said you were gonna go easy on me.” You fake-pouted.

“Oh, c’mon doll.” He grinned, “You did good. We’ll keep working on training tomorrow, okay? Same time.”

You nodded, right as you heard the doors behind you open to show Hank.

“Hey, (Y/N). Do you wanna eat dinner with me?”

“Ah, yes!” You jumped with enthusiasm. “We have some catching up to do.”

“Cool. Is she good to go?”

“Yeah, fine. Good work today.”

“Thanks, Lo!” You ran off with Hank, needing to shower and get ready.

***

“So, how’d today go?” He asked, taking a bite of his food. He ended up taking you to a really nice restaurant to congratulate you on your first day.

“So good! I feel like Lo taught me a lot, honestly.”

“Before I forget, did Logan ask you to call him ‘Lo’?”

“Uh.. no? Why?” You worried.

“It’s just… Logan is really friendly with anyone. He doesn’t do jokes or nicknames. It’s a little shocking you called him ‘Lo’ and his claws didn’t immediately come out.” He laughed.

His words left you even more confused. Hates joking around and nicknames? That’s the opposite of how he acts around you.

“But, he plays around with me? And he called me a nickname first. I thought he was okay with it.” You were nervous that the nickname you’d given him had somehow upset him…

“Yeah, that’s why it’s so.. out of the norm. Maybe he’s got a crush on you.” Hank’s voice dripped in mischief.

“No, that’s definitely not it. Lo’s just—” You corrected yourself. “Logan’s just like that with everyone. He doesn’t have a crush on me.” You couldn’t, didn’t, believe that someone like Logan, The Wolverine, would like you.

Hank chuckled, “(Y/N), I’ve known him for years. He isn’t like that with anyone.”

There was silence as he continued to eat, but you just sat there, butterflies in your stomach, unable to think.

“What did he call you? The nickname?” He asked, casually.

“Doll.” You mumbled, barely audible, embarrassed.

He nearly choked on his food, “And you think he doesn’t like you?”

“No…I think he was just being nice.” You responded, genuinely.

“Yeah... Okay.”

You finished your dinner with Hank, changing the subject and ignoring talking about Logan altogether, and just catching up with each other. You indulged in a few drinks, which was probably a mistake. You were not really a drinker, and definitely a lightweight, leaving you more than tipsy as you left for the mansion. It was late when you finally arrived, and most everyone was asleep.

You two both headed for your rooms. You quickly changed into another oversized tee and crawled into bed. But just like the night before, you couldn’t sleep. This time, for a different reason. It was definitely the alcohol talking but you needed to talk to Logan.

You threw on a pair of shorts and snuck out of your room. His door was closed, so you knocked. With no response, you quietly turned his doorknob. Once open, you saw him, asleep. His messy hair, in combination with his bare torso being exposed, made you feel sick.

In a good way…

In the best way…

You tiptoed over and shook his shoulder. “Logan. Wake up.”

He didn’t budge. “Looogaaann!” You whisper-shouted, and immediately you heard metal unsheathing.

His eyes flew open, “(Y/N)!” His claws retracted. “What are you doing? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” His panicked state made him stutter out his words.

“Shh! You’re so loud. You’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood. M’fine.”

“Are- Are you drunk?” He rubbed his eyes in confusion.

“Hehe.. Maybe. I needed to talk to you, though.”

“What’s wrong, doll?” He scooted over and patted the edge of his bed, wanting you to sit. You followed his order.

“Nothin’. Do you not want me to call you ‘Lo’?” Your words slurred.

“What? No, I like it.” He grinned but his brows were still furrowed in perplexity. “Why do you ask?”

“Hank said you don’t like nicknames. Or jokes! But we joke!”

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He said you have a crush on me.”

He held his breath, “Okay, maybe he does know what he’s talking about.”

“Y-You like me?” You hiccuped.

“Of course. How could I not?”

“I like you, too.” You whispered, almost scared of him hearing you.

“You do? Not just because you're drunk?” He quipped, pushing your hair over your shoulder and exposing your neck.

“Definitely not just because I’m drunk.”

You made your hair glow, wanting to see his face more clearly; wanting to study his expression, and never forget this moment with him.

[rae-writes]

familiars

Mammon, Satan, Asmo || 0.8k wc || crack post [to make up for all the angst recently] ft. menace mc (Tannie's is my favorite bc that's literally me)

Mammon

The second born was on his way to Lucifer’s office again when he saw you plopped on the common room floor

You had tons of materials surrounding you : scissors, needles, thread, fabric, small stickers— even glitter glue! 

Mammon didn’t have the time to stop and ask why, he just chalked it up to his little human just doing their weird little human things

After he was dismissed from Lucifer’s office (and after a 3 fucking hour long lecture), he made his way back to the common room, but you were gone

In your place was a yellow sticky note that read “Hey Mammon! Don’t freak out, I just went outside for a bit <3” 

And that made him freak out even more

Because it was raining like all fuck out there

So he scrambles to the entrance hall and throws open the front door, ready to yell, when he just stops 

You’re crouched down on the steps with an umbrella over you while his crow familiars hop around your feet

They’re all decked out in tiny rain hats, rain coats, and some of his older ones even have small rain boots

Currently, you’re putting a glittery gold lookin set on Mammon’s youngest crow and the demon’s heart swells

The crows notice him fairly quickly and begin to jump around even more, making you look back and beam 

“Hi Mamoney! Alright little fella, you’re all good to go now! Go say hi to Mammon!” 

He could cry. Literally sob at how fucking cute this is

“Aw, guys! Look at ya!” He pets them over their hats, grinnin’ ear to ear, “Mc. You didn’t tell me you wanted to parent the kids with me.” 

You laughed, making him grin even more. “You mentioned them getting cold when they got rained on so I figured I’d help out! Don’t they just look so cute?!” 

Mammon’s eyes were practically heart shaped, “y-yeah…”

(he absolutely gets you and him a rain set so you can all go out in them like a big family) 

(and yes his brothers made fun of him for it and no he didn’t care— especially not when you slapped them with your wet rain hat)

Satan 

You and Satan were out on a simple walk. A relaxing, uneventful walk

That is until you get approached by a fucking unicorn

You don’t know what the hell to do or say- you just kinda stand there staring for a minute while Satan pets his uh…friend. He chuckles at your response, raising an eyebrow when you hold a single finger up

“Someone either slipped me some severe drugs or you’re just a stone cold traitor who did not tell me he was bffs with this gorgeous creature. Both of which I will take offense to.” 

“I deeply apologize for my transgressions, my love.” 

You glanced at the unicorn with a look of ‘can you fucking believe this guy’ before raising a hand, “May I?” 

You received a neigh, to which you leaned in closer and stroked up its nose, where you then received a delighted huff 

“I would die for you.” 

Satan snorted, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. His laughter only got louder when his familiar looked at him with the equivalent expression of ‘how dare you keep this human from me’ 

“Yes, yes, I should’ve introduced you two sooner. Are we done pouting now?” 

You and the unicorn looked at eachother. Then at Satan. Then back to each other. “No.”

He smiled, still amused, “then how about a ride through town? I’ll walk beside you.”

“Like the peasant you are. Alright- onward, Uni! Let’s go kick a guy in the gut.”

...perhaps Satan had been leaving you alone with Belphie for too long

Asmo 

For once (though not for long), the House of Lamentation was peacefully quiet

Most of them were doing their own thing in the common room, existing without a hitch beside each other— a perfect day, in Lucifer’s opinion 

“EEEEKKK!”

The sound was extremely high pitched and cracked, but it was written off as ‘just Mammon doing something stupid again’ 

Yeah…until he walked through the door asking what the hell that noise was. Then they all did a headcount- you were the only one not present 

Asmo turned into the world’s biggest track star in that moment and made his way to you first, finding you floating in mid air at the entrance hall

And on the floor was a sleek black scorpion just…sitting there

“Hon…don’t tell me you’re scared of my gorgeous little baby?!” 

You stared at him like he was fucking nuts— which you thought so in that moment. “I’m sorry, I was a bit too focused on the stINGER!” 

“He doesn’t sting anyone unless I tell him too, Hon, no worries!” 

…’no worries’ he says, as if the creepy thing wasn’t among the most dangerous animals to humans. And a human, you were 

In fairness, the scorpion was not so horrible looking. It’s tail faded into a hot pink like Azzy’s horns and it’s feet(?) we’re tipped with gold. And it had a faint sparkly coat. Of course. 

“Okay…I can deal with this…I guess he is..kind of..pretty..?” 

“Indeed he is! I shine him myself! You wanna hold him?” 

“No, that’s alrig— STOP BRINGING IT CLOSER!”

[kenlvry]

how the main 4 would react after receiving a flower from you

note; second post!! thought abt this concept while in the shower, hope you enjoy it!

kenny mccormick 

when he first got a flower from you it was during school hours, you saw some pretty flowers by the playground bushes and decided to pick some for your boyfriend

it was daffodils , you picked abt 5 of them for him, you approached him and gave him the flowers. he was stunned at first but was so happy that you gave it to him, he’d show off to his friends and cartman would tease him for it but he didn’t care.

he treasured it so much, even on his way home all he thought was how cute and sweet you were to give him flowers, he would try to repay you somehow tbh, he’d do extra shifts just to gift something in return

when you would come over you could see he kept it in a small vase or if not just have it laying around somewhere safe 

if anyone tries to touch it he would be livid or if his mom tried throwing it away he would throw a full on tantrum, he just wants to remember the first ever gift you gave him <33

stan marsh

he was just chilling in his room probably playing games when all of the sudden sharon called him down bc his gf was here

he was confused as to why you came to his house, he got downstairs and there you were holding some georgia blue flowers in your hands, he asked why you came over and you said you came over to give him the flowers

he was blushing hard ong, the fact you came all the way here just to give him flowers blew his mind, the effort you had made his stomach tickle, you were so adorable, you said the flowers reminded you of him. he was practically the colour red at that point.

he threw up.

he apologized but you knew it wasn’t because he was disgusted, the next day he immediately went out to buy a vase to put the flowers in, he carefully picked out a vase and told everyone in his family to never touch the flowers. he just didn’t want it to be ruined yk?? :))

kyle broflovski

tbhhhhh i don’t know how would he react, i think he would blush so hard and didn’t know to respond to you, you asked him to meet you a the slide, he was waiting and from afar was you looking so beautifully holding pink lily flowers, he was blushing tbh.

you gave it to him and said that it was a present for him, cartman was staring from afar and teased him so bad “ewwwww you two are cringy” “shut up fatass”

he would just stare it during class and stan would have to tell him to focus or else he would be sent to the principals office for not hearing mr garrisons romance rant

like kenny he’d try to pay you back somehow, maybe asking you out to a date or buy you anything.

he would treasure it so much, would also keep it in a vase like stan, every time he would see pink lily flowers he’d blush and smile to himself,, it would always remind him of you <333

eric cartman

at first he cringed sooooo bad, he didn’t want anyone knowing you were giving him flowers so he acted like you were giving him drugs tryna act discreet with it

he’d tease you for it tbh, “don’t even think that i would cherish this... this.. whatever it is, i’d throw it away immediately when i get home,trust.”

you know damn well he wouldn’t but you just laughed

he was actually so excited to go home, he rushed home so fast and searched up what type of flowers you gave him, it was a carnation flower, he has no idea what it was but it was pretty

after that he would ask his mom to take him to the store to buy him a vase to keep it, he would practically force his mom to take him, but he saw you there too! obviously he wouldn’t admit it, “im buying this so if your stupid carnation flowers dies i can keep it in here, it would be wayyy prettier if it was dead” .......... “ i never told you it was a carnation flower though” you almost laughed but he just coughed and walked away

he would keep it on his bedside table so he can look at it everytime he woke up :))

[jewish-vents]

I'm so tired of antisemitism in every fandom space I am genuinely starting to feel detached from reality. My entire job is working with victims of violent crime (I identify bones and causes of death/bodily harm). I should be able to talk about Stardew Valley or Pokemon without seeing people talk about how much they hate us and want us dead or make edits of Pikachu on Palestine's flag - which, frankly, feels insulting to Palestine since human lives are a smidge more important than your fictional electric rodent. I should be able to see someone post a meme without people going, "ew Bernie Sanders meme" and "death to zionists" and "all eyes on Rafah!" in the comments. No one in Rafah is helped by this bullshit and no one here is either bc after a long 10 hour shift at work identifying the remains of a human trafficking victim buried in a shallow grave, I don't get moved or inspired by "zionists kys". I just sit there and go, "really? I can't even post about liking Dedenne more than Pikachu without seeing antisemitism?"

My therapist keeps saying not to focus on things outside of my control and to do grounding breathing exercises. Lately I've been dissociating when I do those exercises and even though I can feel my mental health getting work, I can't take time off. We need all hands on deck for this human trafficking murder case. I can't just walk away from work. But I can't unwind after work. Video games that used to bring me joy just remind me of all the people who have made it clear I'm not welcome in any of those games' fandoms. It feels like the walls are closing in all around me.

Yesterday a police officer I (unfortunately) had to interview made some snide remarks about my nose and last name and I told him, in detail, the probable causes of death for the child whose skeleton I've been studying, and ended it with, "and I don't think being antisemitic is going to bring her back, so you might want to focus on the murderers and traffickers operating in your town under your watch instead." I was reprimanded for taking things too personally. And I laughed in a kind of breaking-down-audibly kind of way. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was taking things personally to want to focus on the dead child we're investigating and not my nose. How frivolous and emotional of me. Aren't I silly? /s

Every day on the drive to and from work I look at spots on the bridge I draw over where I could easily climb up and jump off. I am falling apart and I can feel it and no one cares. Just do breathing meditation and don't think about what you can't control. Don't think about how you can't exist without it being a problem even online. Don't think about how above 250 feet, the survival rate drops to less than 1% and you could easily jump that. Mindfulness of the breath. Don't think. That's all I get for comfort.

.

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt bbut a Karen makes their S/O cry? :0

It's the readers first ever encounter with one in the wild and at first Y/N just,,, tries to ignore the woman/leave but the Karen does the usual of not letting em leave and then Y/N gets overwhelmed and starts crying?-

BAHAHHAAB I LOVE FUCKING WRITINF ABOUT KARENS I CANNOT LMFAOOOOOO ; thank you for the request lol ; I got a random strike of writers block halfway through and its very obvious I'm sorry

MCYT ; wild karen encounter

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, iterations of homophobia/transphobia & fatphobia, Karen activity, reader is described as nonbinary

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you two went different ways while clothes shopping and you were looking at more fem/masc (whichever doesn't conform with your sex) clothing

you felt someone glaring daggers at you so you glanced up and saw some random ass woman staring at you, accompanied by her 13ish year old son

she started making remarks about how you shouldn't be looking at those clothes and it's not "modest" for a little young man/woman like you

like mf you're nonbinary huh

you try to ignore her, meanwhile her son looks SO uncomfortable and wants to very obviously leave

she starts recording you out of no where to call you slurs and the sons just like "mom stop" and of course she doesn't

you end up crying and trying to hide it while you defend yourself but you get quickly overstimulated and flustered

the yelling caught Tommy's attention so he quickly walks over like "woah, woah, woah, what's going on?"

and she starts SCREAMING at poor Tommy about you

he looks at you literally wiping your tears while she's STILL recording it and he just peacefully flames her ass

"it doesn't matter what the hell they wear, clothes don't have gender and I could care less about what my partner buys and wears and how they express themselves. go post that to Facebook and look like a fuckin' idiot."

he pulls you away to the changing rooms so you can talk in private and eventually try on the clothes you were looking for

while he was going that he got a hold of a nearby security officer and told them about the situation since you'd both been illegally recorded on the premises of the store

he didn't wanna press charges for you or anything but at least wanted the woman escorted out to look more like a dumbass, considering the security guard had to call the police because what she did was a crime

couple days later you found the video and bodycam footage of the woman being detained and arrested for resisting arrest and recording someone without consent on private property, which is marked as a felony where you live

live laugh love Tommy bc everyone in the video description was hyping him up and saying how bad they felt for you and even the son 🫶

RANBOO

dude you can't even go grocery shopping without people bitching about you guys

you were just trying to pick out some chips and this lady walks past with a scoff

ran quickly turns around like, "Sorry, can we help you?"

she quickly starts yelling about how you gay people are all going to hell and shit

ranboo quickly spits back but you get overstimulated and really take it to heart and you tear up a bit

the lady notices and points it out

she then follows you around the store, yelling at you and shit while they're on the phone dialing the non emergency police line because wtf is wrong w this lady???

before you're questioned and after she's detained, you guys stand alone and try to calm yourself down because you were just getting really stressed about it because wtf do you even do in that situation

gives you a big hug and reassures you that it's okay to cry

he's generally just proud of you in general for being able to hold yourself together for the most part

FREDDIE BADLINU

you two were going out for a little movie date, and dressed in tuxedos to watch Saw X

some dumbass dude was making snarky comments to his wife about you two considering you were holding hands while ordering snacks

Freddie turns around, having heard the guy talking about you thinking he dropped something "can I help you?" He asks in the nicest tone possible

the man and his wife both start making nasty comments about "this generation going to hell" and how you're brainwashing Freddie or something???

you almost immediately start crying because you're trying to ignore it and talk to the girl behind the counter filling your popcorn bucket who doesn't know what to do

she quickly pushes the security button under the counter because she can see your distress and how Freddie was just like stunned as he looked between the couple and you cause like wth

once they're escorted out you're the first in the theater so you guys sit there and talk it all out because you got really overwhelmed

he gives you a hug and reassures you that you did nothing wrong and you're gonna enjoy the movie

the dude had a warrant out for his arrest for not paying child support anyways L

NIKI NIHACHU

you two were out on a walk in a park holding hands and shit and passed this little family down by the creek

the mom just goes full fucking demon mode and starts recording you guys and shouting at you

niki quickly retaliated with a "leave us alone!" before walking off

you were visibly pretty shaken but she reassures you everything is okay and she probably wasn't even recording

she ends up finding the video a few days later

thankfully all the comments were supporting you two and flaming the lady's ass lmao

QUACKITY

you guys were out doing stuff (getting shit at home depot for quackitys new house and peojects) and some Karen was judging your abilities to handy-man basically

"actually, my partner is the best handyman I know! so shut the fuck up"

the Karen immediately goes to the front to get a manager or some shit

meanwhile yall quickly checkout and leave

while leaving you see her getting detained for resisting an officer with violence and threatening an officer 🥰

that becomes a story you tell at every single "family reunion" (meetup with friends)

he still boasts about yelling at someone like that

FOOLISH GAMERS

you guys were out getting snacks for a movie night with friends that were staying over

some Karen made a comment how you needed to go on a diet or some shit since you were the one carrying the basket full of unhealthy snacks

foolish quickly whips around and flames her ass

you just kinda stand there like "wtf"

foolish slings an arm around your shoulders and leads you away since she wouldn't stop blabbering and was threatening to call the cops for some reason

back in the car he reassures you that you do not need to go on a diet and you don't need to listen to the lady whatsoever

movie night was 10/10 you watched Barbie & roasted Saltburn bc that movie wasn't good like at all

[licorice-tea]

Young And Dumb.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: Strawhat reader, gender neutral reader, reader is flirty and bold, cursing, allusions to sex and a threesome, no actual sexual content!!!, pining, kissing 🤭, misunderstandings/ miscommunication, a little bit of arguing, hurt/comfort <3

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: kind of been in a writing slump these past few days, so i just wanted to write and post something, you know? it’s weird bc i have a ton of wips in my drafts, but none of them really felt finished, so i did this whole thing in maybe 2 hours? hopefully it’s enough to pull me out of my little funk so i can get back to posting more regularly! anyway, enjoy!

Law respects you. He respects your choices, your independence from him, even your crew that he doesn’t always like personally. But one thing he absolutely cannot stand is when you do things like this.

The first thing he hears upon walking up to the deck is giggling. Bothersome, but not too loud or unusual that it throws off his routine. Besides; he’s sure his crew must be glad to be above the waves for once, and happy to have the company of the Straw Hats as well. The two crews had wound up with their ships anchored next to each other in the middle of the sea, and agreed to stay there before their courses diverged once again.

He sees you talking to Penguin and Shachi- the source of said laughter. But, Law does a double take when you let out a shriek of laughter. Then he realizes just how closely the two of them are standing to you. You’re not even on the same crew as them, but you look real cozy with Penguin’s hand around your waist and Shachi’s on your shoulder. Of course, he knows your friendliness can border on flirtation (and desperately wants to be on the receiving end of that flirting right now instead of his crew members) but that logic does nothing to calm him.

Law’s perpetual frown turns into a full on scowl as he marches over to the trio you’ve formed. “Penguin! Shachi! Have you…” he loses his train of thought when you give him a quizzical expression, and realizes there is nothing that they haven’t already done. “Your chores. Below deck.”

“Sure have, captain!”

“Yes, captain!”

All three of you look at him expectantly, unsure of why he’s still standing before you. “Are you ok, Law?”

“Ok?” No he wasn’t fucking ok. How could he be when two of his closest friends were throwing themselves at you, and you were letting them? They didn’t even know how he felt for you- no one does- but still. This was just too much for him.

“I need to speak to you, y/n-ya.”

With regard for his serious tone and expression, you wriggle out from between your two friends and follow Law all the way to his office. When you get there and he finally shuts the door, you don’t sit.

Instead you approach him, “Is something wrong? You seemed really upset.”

He looks down at you with a frown. You can tell he’s contemplating his next words before answering, “…Everything is fine.”

“Oh? Ok, so… why are we here then?”

Law breathes deeply, and exhales in a huff. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is it… serious? You’re being kind of weird, Law.”

“I am not.”

“Hm, well, no; you are. But what’s up?”

“I-“ he stops himself and sighs again before continuing. “So dramatic,” you think to yourself. “You shouldn’t get so close to Penguin and Shachi.”

You blink a few times, shocked. He could either be confessing his overwhelming love for you (which you highly doubted, Law had never seemed to reciprocate your affections for him) or giving you some spiel about inappropriate relationships. “Excuse me?”

“They do this kind of thing all the time, y/n-ya; messing around with random women and men, and-“

“And what, Law? I’m an adult, for fucks sake, I don’t need anyone telling me what to do.”

“You don’t understand, they- they want something from you.”

“I know damn well you’re not lecturing me on my sex life right now, Trafalgar Law.”

His face gets hot just from the thought of it. “I am not! But you can’t-“

“Yes, Law, I can. I’m not going to, wasn’t even planning on it; all I did was flirt with them. But believe me when I say I can.”

He’s silent, with an expression akin to that of a bewildered fish. Then it morphs into more of a frown. “I-“

“Don’t even continue with that thought, because you’ve already managed to piss me off beyond belief. Just- just get out of my way.” You step around him and fling open the door to his office before storming off.

That evening, the two crews gather on the deck of the Thousand Sunny for a feast. You find an empty seat, and soon enough Penguin and Shachi place themselves on either side of you.

“Heyyyy y/n.” The first greets you with a sort of awkward, nervous cadence.

“Hey guys, sorry I left without saying bye earlier.”

“Oh it’s fine, you’re good…”

“We’re sorry too.”

This makes you quirk an eyebrow in confusion and look side to side at either of them. “Why would you be sorry?”

They shoot a quick glance at each other, but it’s very obvious because they have to look across you to do so.

“Did you know that, well… Law sort of…”

“He has feeling for you. Big time.”

You almost spit out your drink. “What? Oh, ok, real funny guys-“

“No, no we’re serious!”

“Yeah! You should hear the way he talks about you-“

“All good things, of course, it’d be hard not to- But anyway he was never going to tell you because he doesn’t think you’re interested, blah blah blah-“

“Which is why we decided to try and make him jealous!”

“…I’m so confused right now. No, not even confused just… surprised?”

“Don’t blame yourself, Captain’s hard to read sometimes.”

“Good thing we figured it out for you, right?” Shachi elbows your side, clearly pleased with himself.

“Uh huh...”

Penguin continues “Anyway, we thought it worked when he said he needed to talk to you earlier, but when you came back you seemed sort of upset.”

“Yeah, well he was kind of acting like a dick.”

He sighs, “Law means well, I swear. He’s just… he’s not the best with matters of the heart.”

“That’s ironic.”

Shachi leans over you to address his friend. “Not the best? C’mon man, he has zero experience.”

“Shh! We want y/n to feel for him, not pity him.”

You laugh, “Right, so… what should I do?”

“Do you like him back?” Such a childish way of saying it.. but you do. And you had, for a while, but you’d never acted on your feelings because he’d never seem to like you as anything other than a friend. Until earlier today, when his jealously led him to say some kind of rude things to you. It was no excuse, but it explained why he’d acted the way he did.

You smile softly and look down. “I do.”

“Then go talk to him!”

“Yeah, go talk to him y/n!”

The two men excitedly get you up out of your seat and (gently) push you toward where Law is leaning on the railing of the deck. You laugh and go along with it- if what they were saying is true, what could be the harm in being honest about your own feelings with him?

You walk briskly toward Law, but with purpose, And when you stop in front of him, he looks up from his cup like a deer in headlights.

He quietly greets you with a nod. “…Y/n-ya.”

“Law. Can we talk?”

He nods and follows you to the starboard side of the deck, far enough from where the dinner and light music is. You come to a stop and turn to face him.

“You know, I’ve been talking to Penguin and Shachi…”

Law deadpans, still annoyed about how they were all over you earlier. “Mhm.”

“And they told me something about you. I didn’t really believe it, at first, because you never… Well you never acted like you do, but-“

“Like I what?”

“Like you… have feelings for me?”

“Shit.” He was going to kill them after this. Or at the very least, make sure they had the worst of the chores on the Polar Tang for the foreseeable future. “They… They told you that?”

“Yes, but-“ Law turns and tries to walk off with his fists clenched, before you stop and grab one of his wrists. “I feel the same way, Law. If it’s true, of course.“

“It is.”

You smile. “If you were jealous earlier, you could’ve just said so. Then I wouldn’t have gotten angry with you.”

“You’re not interested in them?”

“No, we’re just friends… But I didn’t think you were interested in me, either, so I didn’t see the harm in flirting.”

Law shrugs, looking down at his shoes. You’ve never seen him so shy. “Well, I didn’t think you felt the same way, so I never, uh, confessed.”

“Well,” you take a step closer, and risk your chances by gently lifting his chin with one hand. “I do.”

Law’s eyes roam over your face, mouth gaping as he searches for his next words. He wants to say something suave and impressive, to take back control of the situation when you so clearly have him wrapped around your finger. However, he comes up with nothing, and decides to try something new instead. Maybe your boldness has simply inspired him to suddenly come up with this master plan, or maybe he just can’t think of anything else with you standing so close; but he kisses you.

It’s slow and hesitant for the first few seconds- you think he’s probably new to this by the way he lips press into yours forcefully and without much intention. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, guiding him to sink his lips into yours rather than have them press flat against each other. He follows suit, then pulls away for a quick breath before going right back for you. He sighs into the kiss this time, and your lips part ever so slightly. He takes this as opportunity try and go a little further- his tongue passes in the slit between your lips and you open them further to let him. What had started off as a small kiss quickly becomes a less than innocent make out session. Law is bold with it, too; nipping at your lips and causing you to gasp so that he can take you by surprise and kiss you that much more deeply (on more than one occasion.) You can both practically feel the tension built up over months of pining after each other dissipating.

At long last you pull away, for fear your mouth will go numb if you let him bite your lips one more time.

And Law asks, slightly panting; “How was that?”

You laugh, genuinely surprised that he’s concerned about his performance in what might’ve been was the best kiss of your life. “Perfect, Law. Just perfect.”

[catiuskaa]

putting to good use

a short sub!jisung smut because he has been going crazy this comeback and I know it for a fact.

posting bc i have 33 drafts and its making me and tumblr a bit crazy lol

MY MAN NEEDS TO CHILL BECAUSE WOW MAN I CAN HANDLE UP TO A POINT

WC: 0.9k

you had always been Jisung’s utmost supporter, his number 1 fan, and with the last comeback, who could blame his partner for wanting to reward all his hard effort?

“Jagi, i’m home!” He greeted, the smile on his face rolling off on his cheeky tone of voice. Jisung giggled softly at the loud hum you let out as a greeting.

He left his coat on the entrance and then walked to the small office/studio you had both created in the apartment so you two could work from home, soundproof panels adding to the vibe and making it clear that there was an artist among you two.

“Oh, hi baby, how was your day? Aww, it was good, jagi, thanks for asking!” He mocked, resting his shoulder on the doorframe.

You stared at him from above the computer screen, your hand fidgeting with your lips, then just nibbling on them, quickly eyeing back to the device.

Han’s eyebrows shot up. He chewed on his lip, wondering if maybe he had done something to annoy you?

What would normally happen was that you'd smile at him, take your headphones off, and hug him tightly. Not just acknowledge his presence with a hum and a nod, your eyes glued to your computer.

Lost in thought, he went over to the kitchen and took a pack of instant noodles for himself. But he hadn´t finished setting up the pot to heat up the water when your arms slithered their way to his waist, turning him and caging him against the countertop, bodies tight against one another.

"J-Jagi?" He stuttered, flustered from head to toe.

"Thought I wouldn't do anything about it, huh?" Your sly snicker sent chills all over his body, and he gasped when your hips pushed him further against the counter. "You, looking hot, and sweaty, and all bothered on stage..."

Each aspect numbered had been accompanied by a gentle thrust of your hips, and Jisung couldn't —wouldn't— dare to hide the little whimpers that came out of his mouth. You smirked, pressing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.

"And, that silly little video... taking your jacket off your shoulders... and sticking your tongue out, breathless?" Whispers followed the trail of open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his shoulders, leaving lipstick stains on the way, and Han's legs wobbled in place, still trying to process what was happening.

He panted when you moved away slightly, almost failing to hold his weight on the counter behind him, feeling the cold marble pressed on his lower back, in contrast to how hot you had made him feel in the blink of an eye.

"I- I just..." he muttered, trying to get back his mind, which turned blank at your movements but was quickly silenced when you bit his lip.

You had never done anything like this. Yes, you liked to talk in bed sometimes, but never so dominating, never making him feel like he was yours to touch, and yours only.

He needed more. Now.

"Oh, baby." You cooed at him. He was seeing stars already, his body reacting to your touch and your whispers in a way he had never felt before. "If you stick your tongue out, you might as well be prepared to use it."

The kiss that followed was messy, like a flame that burned its way down his body, a mix of teeth and tongue that made him crazy. You then cradled his face in your hands and pressed his lips against yours, pulling him tightly against you. His mouth was fierce and eager, kissing you deeply, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. He didn't want to stop, so he kept pushing you against him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he held you close, his other hand weakly helping his body stay in place.

"I'm going to put that little mouth of yours to good use. Would you like that, baby?"

He was blushing furiously when you nibbled on his ear, waiting for him to reply, but you laughed when he nodded eagerly.

"Speak, baby. If we're going to do this, I need you to say what you want."

He panted, arousal flooding his body, his mind only able to focus on your body and your voice.

"F-Fuck, darling, please–"

You moved away from him, and he almost fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

You softly took his cheek in your hand, his skin hot and red.

"Such a good boy."

He couldn't help but groan now as he felt the anticipation build up inside him. He felt he was going to wake up at any moment because whatever was going on right now felt like a motherfucking dream.

Jisung let out a flustered sigh when you pushed him to the couch, your thigh spreading his legs open just enough to make him suddenly crave more.

"Be a good boy and don't move now, yeah?"

You felt his body tensing underneath your touch when you bent over, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Are you getting shy, baby?" You whispered tenderly at him, your tone completely different from before. He blushed deeply, not able to look at you when he nodded.

You raised your body and kissed him softly, a loving gesture that made Jisung feel butterflies not only on his belly, but all over his body.

“You are absolutely and undeniably beautiful, and you have no reason to worry about how you look or sound right now. Just enjoy it, baby.”

He cradled your face and kissed you tenderly.

You smiled. "Sit back and relax. I'll have my fun now."

~Kats, who had to stop because she got blocked and started laughing and giggling.

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 3 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

finally!!!!!!!!!! finally all the tension has led to something.....well, some of the tension, anyway. you and eren are both idiots in denial, but you're horny idiots in denial, which makes all the difference. hope y'all have your a/c on, bc it's about to get hot in here.

corny jokes aside, pls enjoy chapter 3 of plug!eren and get ready to get steamy (finally!!!! sorry for holding out on you<3333)

miss the first couple chapters? find the series masterlist HERE

specific cws: smut, nasty nasty smut. mentions of drugs/alcohol. use of pet names, squirting, oral (fem!receiving), eren being a cute little shit

-

“That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.” - Hamlet by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 2)

You make your way through your weekly routine, but Eren follows you everywhere you go. You see him in the dark-haired man two rows over in the library, the smell of weed walking down fraternity row, in the kissing couple sitting on the campus’ main water fountain. It doesn’t help that Historia won’t shut up about him, scolding you day and night for not bringing him to your bed that night.

Part of you agrees with her, but another, more sinister part of you relishes in the denial of it all, the hot anticipation that courses through you each time he sends you a cheeky text about nothing. You promised yourself one fuck, one good, long fuck, and you were leaving him in the dust, and you weren’t going to rush to get it out of your way.

You’re busy anyway, heading over to The 104th Bean, the campus coffee spot, on quick feet to make it in time to the study group you were hosting for a few of your students. You didn’t think the sonnets you’d assigned for this week were too complex, but a good chunk of them were struggling with the meter of the lines. It was the least you could do to offer them an opportunity for one-on-one help, and in lieu of an office, 104 was the best spot to get it done.

“Hi guys,” you breeze in, breathless and slamming a stack of papers down on the table your students have gathered at, “sorry I’m a little late.”

“We just got here,” Falco, a precious, blonde wisp of a kid smiles brightly up at you, “and we went ahead and got you a coffee. It’s still hot.”

“Aw, thank you guys,” you gratefully accept the paper cup he offers you. It’s your favorite brew, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Which one of you figured out my coffee order?”

“All of us,” Gabi shrugs, “you bring the same thing to class literally every day.”

“We have a whole thing about it in the group text,” Zofia wiggles her phone at you.

“I might need to offer some extra credit.” You take a sip, closing your eyes at the blissful feeling of caffeine rushing into your half-conscious brain. You jump straight into the material, deciding to tackle the sonnets one by one, line by line until they’ve all made perfect sense to your little group of college kids. They’re all smart, evidenced by the way they question their way to the answer before you can give it, and in their defense, some of the sonnets you pulled have been from your graduate classes. You spend the next hour working through everything with them, a welcome reprieve from sitting alone in front of your laptop, tugging at your hair.

“I…um, need to go to the restroom,” Gabi checks her phone and stands suddenly, looking frantic. You frown, but wave her off in the direction of the bathroom, making a mental note to send Zofia after her if she didn’t return soon.

After a few minutes have passed, Gabi sits back at the table, looking much calmer than when she’d left. You don’t make any note of it, until a tall figure catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. You’re positive that it’s your mind playing tricks on you like it has been all week, until you hear a familiar timbre calling your name.

Eren’s sullen mouth widens into that heartstopping, crooked grin as he walks over to wrap his arms around you in a hug that makes your knees weak. “What are you doing here?”

“Study group,” you gesture at your students, noticing that Gabi’s blushing heavily and pointedly avoiding eye contact with both of you. Ah. “Working?”

Eren glances at Gabi and looks at his shoes. “Nah, just needed a coffee.”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes. He’s not even holding a cup, and you’re not buying his story for a second. As her professor, you should scold Gabi for buying drugs which are definitely banned on campus, but considering that you’re plotting to get into her dealer’s pants, you figure that might be a tad hypocritical.

“You didn’t text me back last night,” Eren pokes a finger into your ribs playfully. You’re well-aware of your students’ eyes boring into your back, watching intently as their professor’s personal life spills into their study session. Great material for the group text.

“I knocked out! You know I’m busy.”

“Too busy to reply to my memes about Jujutsu Kaisen?” Eren cocks an eyebrow.

“Apparently so. I woke up with my phone still unlocked and stuck to my face.” That draws a laugh out of him.

“Okay fine,” Eren concedes, “but if you’re not going to pay attention to my very funny memes over text, then you’ll have to check them out in person.”

“Eren,” you hiss, flicking your head in the direction of your suspiciously-silent students, “Would it kill you to behave?” Eren scoffs.

“They’re not listening. What about tonight? We can watch a movie or something.”

Watch a movie. You want to inform him that each one of those students is very much listening to him shamelessly flirt with you, students that absolutely know what “watch a movie” is code for. Especially Gabi, who knows exactly what Eren’s occupation is from experience and will likely be all too thrilled to inform her classmates that you’re banging her hot drug dealer. Simply getting Eren to leave is probably your best bet at retaining any shred of respect your students hold for you.

You can’t resist teasing him a little first. “Is that what an old man does on a Friday night? Watch movies?”

“Mikasa’s covering some clients for me,” Eren admits, “if you come over, that is.”

“I think I’m free tonight,” you scan through your lengthy list of obligations in your head, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters as you realize he’s already gone out of his way to cover work and give you both your alone time, “as long as you don’t mind if I bring some quizzes over with me. I still have my 9:00 am’s to grade.”

“Can I help?” Eren’s eyes light up, childlike and excited.

“You don’t even know the answers.”

“Straight As for everyone,” Eren smiles, changing his tune when you shoot him a look, “straight Fs, then?”

“It won’t take me long, twenty minutes tops, and then you can pester me with all the memes you want. Deal?”

“You got it, teach.” Eren’s tone is suggestive enough to make your face warm, and you shoo him away from the table of young adults that you literally must remain respectable in the eyes of. Eren bids you goodbye with a wink that goes straight to the warmth pooling between your legs. You allow yourself one deep breath to regain your composure, turning back to your students with a wide, nervous smile.

“Sorry about that, guys.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Zofia flinches when Gabi kicks her under the table with a loud bang.

You hesitate. No, just the hot guy I have no business getting wrapped up with that I’m going to let fuck me stupid later. “Just a friend.”

“He seemed pretty into you to be just a friend,” Falco teases.

“Do you want to fail your next three tests?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he balks, turning back to his notebook with a mumbled apology. You don’t miss the way Gabi’s looking at you, something between embarrassment and curiosity on her face. You can’t blame her; you’re not far enough in age from your students to be completely out of touch, and if you found out one of your professors had been sleeping with someone as deliciously dangerous as Eren, you would have been all over spreading that rumor.

Friends with someone like Eren, you correct yourself in your mind, remembering that you haven’t slept together, not quite yet. Tonight’s apparently the night, though, and your chest is tight with anticipation. It’s all you can do to pull yourself together and make it through the day, breaking out in a cold sweat when Eren shoots you a reminder text to head to his place around 7:00.

“Oh you’re getting laid. You’re so getting laid!” Historia squeals excitedly through your phone speaker. “I never thought this day would come!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you say, letting the sarcasm drip freely from your voice. Your nervous hands had started shaking in your pockets as you rode down the elevator shaft to embark on the twelve-minute walk to Eren’s, so you had Facetimed Historia for a distraction. All you had gotten in return so far, however, was a whole bunch of shrieking.

“You just second guess yourself too much,” Historia says, shaking the camera, “let loose, live a little like we used to.”

“Living like we used to is what had me crying in the shower over a frat boy every two weeks, remember?”

“Eren’s not like that,” Historia dismisses you, “and honestly, he seems into you.”

“He invited me over to come fuck in broad daylight, so yeah, Stor, I’d say he’s fairly into me.”

“Not like that, like actually into you. I’ve never seen him get all touchy with anyone like he did the other night. Plus, he drove you home, which was super sweet.”

Oh, calling Historia was a mistake. Big mistake. That’s the last thought you need in your mind on your way to your one-and-done, already being a repeat offender for catching feelings from basically nothing. Eren’s too volatile to play with, too charming, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fall right into a trap he probably doesn’t even know he’s setting for you.

“I don’t know,” Ymir chimes in from somewhere off-camera, “guys will do a whole bunch of shit to get laid. Probably doesn't mean anything.”

“You’re literally a lesbian, Ymir, shut up,” Historia snips. You raise an eyebrow.

“Do the words ‘pot’ and ‘kettle’ have any meaning to you?”

Historia rolls her eyes. “Ymir’s like, allergic to penises, don’t listen to her. I, on the other hand, have a million guy friends and, with no emotional or sexual interference in my male-female relationships, I have learned to read them like books. Deny it all you want, but he’s totally got a little crush on you.”

“This is the last thing I need to hear,” you groan, “he’s too pretty for me to think he has a crush on me. We’re fucking just this one time, and then I’m done with him.”

“Sure,” Historia smirks knowingly, “I’m sure Sasha’s roommate said that too.”

“And they never dated either, so that’s on her for breaking her own rule.” You’re pushing back a little too hard to be described as anything but defensive, you know it, but a small, wavering flicker of hope in your chest wants Historia to keep going, wants her to be right. Because Eren’s dreamy, makes you want to kick your feet and twirl your hair like a schoolgirl, and if anything actually came of this, you wouldn’t be the one to say no.

However, you’re heading over for a meaningless, one-time fuck, so feelings need to be pushed to the back of your mind.

“You’re never any fun,” Historia pouts.

“Two days ago I drank an entire bottle of wine with you for zero reason other than the fact that you wanted to get drunk and cry to Taylor Swift. That’s plenty of fun.”

“She does that to you, too?” Ymir commiserates, still off-camera.

“Okay, it’s Eren-talk time, not shit-on-Historia time,” Historia huffs, blowing a strand of blonde out of her eyes. A notification pops up on your phone: destination in 200ft.

“Oh my god, I’m almost there,” you practically moan, covering your face with your hand, “what if he does have a massive dick and it like, impales my uterus or something?”

“No dick talk!” Ymir snaps. Historia shushes her.

“Relax, for every rumor about a guy’s dick, you have to knock, like, two inches off what you hear. Trust me.”

“What if I choke on it and throw up on him?”

“I’ve seen you deepthroat an entire banana without batting an eye,” Historia pulls a knowing face.

“What if this whole thing is a prank and Ashton Kutcher pops out and they’ve somehow started up a Punk’d remake that I don’t know about–”

“Then you get a selfie with Ashton Kutcher and call it a day,” Historia laughs, “you’re working yourself up way too much. Remember when you used to be a slut and do this, like, five times a week?”

“Jesus,” you hear Ymir mutter.

“Thanks, Stor. Thanks so much.”

“No, but seriously. Eren might be hot and funny or whatever else you like about him, but he’s just a guy. You are also hot and funny and totally a catch, you’ve got the upper hand here!”

“Ugh,” you stop a few feet from Eren’s drive, knowing you would fully die if he overheard you gossiping about him on the phone. “I’m here. Let me just get this over with, and I’ll see you at home later.”

“Yeah, when Eren answers the door, try to sound a little more excited that you’re going to get laid and less like you’re going to your execution,” Historia traces a smile onto her cheeks with a pink fingernail, “good luck!”

“Use a condom!” Ymir pipes up just as the call ends.

You look over at Eren’s house, cute and squat with its little red door, and trudge up the sidewalk before you can lose your nerve. You wince at the tremors shaking your fist as you knock, wanting to run away or throw up or disappear–

“Hey,” Eren answers the door with a broad grin. You eye his gray sweatpants, essentially straight woman kryptonite, and gulp. He knows too much.

“Hey,” you force a smile, letting him beckon you inside. It smells…very nice. Not as boyish as it should. You take note of the candle burning on the coffee table with a little smile.

“Want anything to snack on? I have popcorn, stuff for quesadillas, cosmic brownies…” Eren’s eyes twinkle at the last suggestion. You’re not surprised; he seems like the type to have an insatiable sweet tooth.

“I ate before I came over, but thanks anyway,” you say, fiddling with the zipper on your jacket. Eren takes note of your twitchy hands, raises an eyebrow at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say automatically, embarrassed that he’s caught you flustered. He’s just a guy. “It’s…okay, it’s honestly just been awhile.”

You expect him to laugh or tease you, but Eren just smiles that stupid fucking canine-heavy, disarming smile. “We’re just chilling, okay? No sweat.”

“No sweat,” you repeat, admittedly feeling a little better now that you’ve gotten it out. Eren’s new to you, still unfamiliar and full of surprises, but for some odd reason, you trust him. There’s something comfortable and steady in his casual confidence that eases your nerves and ignites a pounding in your heart all at once.

“So, I was thinking Texas Chainsaw,” Eren goes on like you hadn’t just shared a little moment in the hallway, flopping onto the couch, “but if you’re not into horror, I’d be down for Pineapple Express.”

The irony’s so blatant it’s almost not funny.

“So, the drug dealer wants to watch Pineapple Express?” You plop down beside him, relieved that he’s drawn you to the living room as opposed to his bedroom. Sure, you feel better, but you know one look at Eren’s bed would ignite a fresh wave of nerves. Eren rolls his eyes as you poke fun at him.

“It’s a classic!”

“For seventeen-year-old stoners, definitely. What about Grease? That’s a classic.”

Eren lolls his head on your shoulder, pretending to snore. You smack his face lightly, still giggling under your breath, and he fakes jumping awake, shaking his head. “Sorry, I dozed off. Boring.”

“Okay, fine, let’s just do your horror movie,” you sigh, knowing that if everything goes according to plan, you won’t be stuck watching the movie for long. “I’ve never seen that one, and isn’t it sort of a pillar of the scary movie realm?”

Eren pauses his thumb on the remote to gape at you. “You’ve never seen Chainsaw Massacre? Like, ever?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit. Prepare yourself to be educated,” Eren mumbles disbelievingly under his breath, finding the movie quickly and standing to turn the lamps in the room off, leaving nothing but the cozy glow of string lights and the TV. “Ready?”

You snuggle into his side, letting him pull you close enough to feel his chest rise and fall under your face. “Ready.”

The movie doesn’t hold your attention, too caught up in Eren’s embrace to pay much attention to the plot. He’s got one arm around your shoulders, hand dangling down far enough that you can reach your hand up to play with his large fingers. It’s comfortable, probably a little too comfortable for a quick fuck, but you’re content, trying your best to focus on the film until he makes his move.

“M’bored,” Eren says abruptly, after not even thirty minutes.

“You picked this movie,” you argue, peering up to look at him. He’s feigning a pout, but there’s something mischievous glittering in his eyes.

“Yeah because I thought you’d scream,” he says, shrugging, “but for someone who didn’t want to watch a scary movie, you don’t seem very scared.”

“I’m not screaming because it’s predictable.”

“You’ve never even seen it, you should be screaming.”

“You need a horror movie to make me scream?” You’re tired of the games, confidence restored as you remember just how badly you want what you came here for. Historia was right, he’s just a guy, and you’re ready to get laid. Eren blinks for a brief second, caught off guard, but a slow, wolfish grin slowly begins to spread over his face.

“Is that what we’re doing now? Talking shit?”

You’ve dug your grave now, blood running hot with anticipation. Might as well get comfortable. “Maybe.”

Eren shifts, pulls you into his lap to straddle him chest to chest. Through your leggings, you can feel the outline of him, intimidating and hard, rubbing against your core. It draws a little gasp from you; no running from him now. “Yeah? Where’d that mean mouth go?”

You lean in, already eager to feel his lips on yours, but Eren reclines further, making you chase him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Eren chides, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Thought you wanted to be mean to me.”

“That’s not what I want.” Your voice already sounds gone, breathy and heavy in your mouth.

“What do you want then?”

“Wanna kiss you,” you admit, hating how strung out you already are, hot between your thighs and shaky in the hands. Eren smiles at you, so sweet and easy on the surface, but you can see the danger lurking behind it. He’s going to eat you alive.

Eren leans forward, leaving a chaste peck on your lips. You make a discontented sound as he pulls away. “What’s that for? Gave you what you wanted.”

“Not like that,” you play with the strings of his hoodie, not even able to look him in the eye, lest he see the unadulterated want pulsing through you, “like…”

“The other night?” Eren finishes for you, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been thinking about it?”

“Mhm.” He puts his hands on your hips, and you hum at the heat of his hands through your clothes. Unexpectedly, Eren pushes you down, grinds you against the erection growing in those damned sweatpants, ripping a humiliating, choked sound out of your throat. You aren’t sure what you’d expected of him, but you definitely hadn’t anticipated this level of boldness.

“Been touching yourself? Thinking about me?” Eren asks, low and expectant. You nod, hating yourself for admitting to your late night transgressions, giving into him so easily. “Good. ‘ve been doing the same thing.”

Eren swallows the little moan that spills out of your mouth, crashing into you, all teeth and tongue. He’s sloppy, far more demanding than he had been the first time around, licking into your mouth and fisting a hand into your hair. His other hand’s still hard at work, moving your hips against him, letting out little grunts when you grind down particularly hard.

“Not here, need to,” Eren pants into your mouth, trying to speak around your tongue slipping between his lips, “need to take you to my room. Is that okay? Need you to tell me now if it’s not.”

Your heart melts; you want to kick yourself for ever calling him ‘scummy’. Even in the midst of your heated moment, Eren’s eyes are blown wide, scanning over your face for any sign of hesitation.

“Please,” you purr against him, peppering his jawline with kisses and rubbing yourself on him wantonly. Eren groans deep in his chest, a sound that makes your cunt throb between your legs. That convinces him; he scoops you up, legs around his waist like you weigh nothing– god, it always strikes you just how strong he is– stumbling through the house and letting you plant sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

You bounce on his bed when he tosses you, not even taking your eyes off of him for a moment to do a quick inventory of the room. You decide you’ll take the time to investigate afterwards, greedy for any details that might unravel the mechanisms behind the man in front of you. Eren’s practically ripping his hoodie off where he towers over you, revealing an expanse of hard muscle nestled under olive skin, random little tattoos etched into his physique here and there. You want to trace those tattoos with your tongue, feel how the skin gives under your teeth. Your jaw drops an inch or two; you reach a hand up to ghost your fingertips under the ripples of his ridiculous six-pack.

“You’re a drug dealer. What do you even need muscles like that for?”

Eren snickers, letting you have your fun for only a moment before he’s reaching down to tug your top over your head.

“I have a lot of down time, I guess. You’re one to talk anyway,” he sucks in a breath, crawling over you and forcing you back on your elbows, “I mean, just look at you.”

You bring your hands up to your face to hide where your cheeks are growing warm under his lecherous gaze, but Eren’s having none of it, pulling them above your head and securing them by the wrists.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, mouthing his way down your neck, “why so shy all of the sudden? Don’t hide from me now.”

“S-sorry,” you stutter, back unwittingly arching, shoving your chest closer to his eager mouth. Eren releases you to unclip your bra, slide it over your shoulders. His eyes darken even further, bright green deepening into the shade of a dark, forest floor.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” Eren mumbles, leaning down to drag his tongue over the tops of your breasts. It’s lewd, sloppy, the way he licks at you like you’re something sweet, something to be eaten, but you like it, fisting your hands in his dark hair and clutching him to your chest. Eren’s large hands palm at your tits; he takes one nipple in his mouth and you sigh contentedly as he sucks, nips at you in all the right places. “You've got the most beautiful body, baby. Feel good?”

“Yeah, feels good,” you whisper, cradling him so close you might be suffocating him, but you don’t care. There’s something akin to a Greek god licking at your tits, looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, can you really help yourself?

Eren kisses down your stomach, tugging your leggings and panties down easily, propping your legs open for him. You frown, popping up on your elbows, more than ready to just get him inside of you as fast as you can at this point. What stops you is the extremely sexy noise he lets out at the sight of you, bordering on a growl.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he absentmindedly circles your clit with his thumb, dips it into your hole a few times, testing the waters.

“Eren, no– want you in me,” you pull at his shoulder pointedly, but Eren just chuckles, breath fanning over your sensitive cunt, making you jolt.

“Gotta get you ready for me, yeah?” Eren tilts his head innocently, rubbing a little faster against your clit. Your words die in your throat, nothing but a broken whimper slipping out in place of your protests. “See? Just want to taste you, know you’ll be so sweet.”

“Fine, knock yourself out,” you say, trying to appear at least slightly less wrecked than you are. Eren looks up at you, amused.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you if you’re not careful.” Jesus, the mouth on him. You bite your lip, too afraid of what might come out if you dare to respond. You believe him.

Eren’s leaning in, licking through your folds lazily, no clear plan in mind, just getting a taste for you like he said he would. Somehow, even with his warning, it still catches you off guard, the hot lathing of his tongue into your center.

“Shit,” Eren groans into you, “you taste so fucking good.”

His words go straight to your pussy, and you twist your fingers in his hair shamelessly, pulling insistently. You need far more than what he’s giving. You need what you know he’s capable of.

“Where’s all that shit talking now?” Eren chuckles under his breath, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“C’mon Eren, quit fucking with me,” you pant, making the mistake of looking down. Whatever you were about to say gets lodged in your chest; Eren’s looking right back up at you, bottom half of his face tucked into your cunt and one eyebrow cocked smugly.

“Need something?”

“Your mouth, your f-fingers, please–” you’re off the deep end, feeling yourself spiral further down into Eren’s little world of hot hands and devilish lips, bottomless need threatening to swallow you whole. You’re not the begging type, but for him? You’re as good as on your knees.

“There you go,” Eren coos, sinking a long finger into your heat, crooking it just right to punch a groan from you, “can have whatever you want, baby, just gotta ask.”

His mouth closes around your clit, sucks hard just as his finger nudges into the perfect spot in your walls, that spot that makes your head spin. You’re crooning above him, muttering something about how good it feels, how you need more, putty in his experienced hands. When he slips another finger into you, picking up his rhythm, you nearly cry, tears welling in your eyes as he works you open.

“That’s– fuck, that’s so good,” you whine, fisting the sheets, his hair, your own chest, anything you can sink your claws into to keep you grounded in the moment, keep you from floating away like you feel like you’re going to. Your hips are canting up into Eren’s mouth of their own accord; you buck so violently that Eren has to throw his free arm over your stomach, locking you in place so that you have no choice but to stay and take what he’s giving you. “Eren, I–”

“Hm?” He hums against your swollen clit; you can even feel his lips stretch into a grin against you.

“Don’t stop, I’m gonna– gonna cum,”  you manage, legs already beginning to shake. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire; when Eren presses his arm down a little harder on your lower abdomen, a strange, sticky heat starts building in your stomach. “Eren–”

“Come on, baby,” Eren huffs, sinking a third finger into you, stretching you impossibly wider. You’re wet enough that it doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it is enough to make you cry out. “Don’t fight it, want it so fucking bad. Let go for me.”

That’s enough to hurl you over the edge, obscene sounds spilling from you as you jerk in his hold. You’re vaguely aware of the squirt dribbling out of you, soaking the sheets, but you’re preoccupied with the earth-shattering orgasm rocking through your body, the lewd slurping sounds Eren’s making between your legs, groaning into you as you cum violently on his face. You finally begin to settle, shoving at Eren’s head and whimpering from the overstimulation.

He presses his lips to your hip bone before he comes back to you, pulling you into a filthy kiss, both of your faces drenched in your cum and sticking together. When he pulls back, you nearly cum again at the sight of your slick literally dripping from his chin.

“How was that?”

“Fine,” you pant, “just fine.”

Eren laughs, a real laugh that pulls a giggle out of you too, makes everything just a little less intense. “So you’re good?”

“I’m very good,” you grin up at him, bleary-eyed and blissed out. Eren falls back against the headboard, sitting himself up. You notice two things right off the bat: 1. that his gray sweatpants are gone and 2. that the rumor mill wasn’t lying.

His dick is massive, wide enough that your fingers wouldn’t touch if you wrapped them around it and long enough that you’re pretty sure it would slap against your belly button if you laid it just right. It’s pretty, too; flushed red tip leaking precum down his shaft in a way that makes your mouth water. Your eyes widen, apparently enough for Eren to notice.

“Quit drooling and get over here,” he chuckles, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you to his chest, forcing your legs to spread over his thighs, “wanna see you ride me first.”

“I’m not drooling,” you scowl defensively, trying to regain some of your composure after whimpering and crying for him only a minute ago. He’s just a guy, Historia’s words echo in your mind.

“Go for it, then,” Eren smirks, landing a light smack on your ass that makes you jolt. You steel your gaze against his, determined not to give him the upper hand.

You take him in your hand, slide the head through your wet folds, earn yourself a hiss from him. Shit, even the tip catching on your eager hole has an intimidating stretch to it. He wants you to sit on this thing?

Either Eren’s a mind reader, or your hesitation is written all over your face because he cups your chin, pulling you down to him for a troublingly tender kiss.

“Just a little at a time, okay?”

You’re humiliated by his encouragement, but you tuck your lip between your teeth and nod, pressing just the head into you, pride forgotten on account of the slight burn between your legs as you sink down on him.

“Oh,” you sigh, long and languid, head rolling back off of your shoulders at the stretch. Eren’s grin has fizzled out into a look of fascination, his eyes glued to where he’s splitting you open. You inch down a little further, wincing at the ache in your thighs and in your walls; he feels even bigger than he looks. Eren notices, wipes a thumb under your eye at a stray tear.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss out through your clenched jaw, “s’just…so much.”

“Doing so good for me,” Eren’s thumb returns to your clit, swiping across it softly, “does this help?”

Your answer is nothing but a heady whine as you drop down another inch or so, cunt pulsing around the welcome intrusion. Eren’s trying to comfort you, holding you tight to his chest now and murmuring little encouragements into your ear, but his voice is strained and you can feel his hips twitching, begging to buck up into you, just as unraveled as you are at this point. After what seems like eternity, you’re almost there, feeling him deep in you, nudging against your cervix, but there’s still a small space between you, one you can’t manage to close.

“I can’t, Eren,” you whimper, fucking yourself up and down on him in an effort to get that last little bit in, “won’t fit.”

“Yeah it will,” Eren simpers, taking you by the waist, “lemme help.”

Eren adjusts the way you’re sitting, leans you back just a little, and he’s right. The small space between you disappears, both of you groaning when your clit meets his stomach.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you stammer, rolling your hips against him experimentally.

“So goddamned tight,” Eren huffs, voice gruff with the strain of keeping himself under control, “so fucking perfect for me.”

You move, rocking this way and that, marveling at the way each new angle feels. Eren’s digging his teeth into his bottom lips, squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise, but he holds himself back, letting you work yourself open and get a feel for him. When you lean forward, brace your hands on his shoulders and grind your hips back, his cock nudges a spot in you that makes you see stars. You collapse onto Eren’s chest, rutting your hips into him desperately, panting.

“Right there?” Eren’s hands finally move, pulling and pushing your hips back and forth against the spot that has you mewling into his chest.

“Right there,” you gasp, feeling your orgasm building upon itself embarrassingly fast, still raw from his fingers.

“That’s right,” he grunts, moving your body against him faster, “not so mean with my dick up in you, are you?”

You mumble something unintelligible in response that would have been muffled by Eren’s shoulder between your teeth even if it had been a coherent sentence. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pressure builds, and Eren releases his grip from one of your hips to rub hard, fast circles against your clit.

“Come on,” Eren licks up your neck, “give me one more. You can do it, baby, just one more.”

And just like that, you’re cumming again, wailing into his sweaty skin as tears fill your eyes. Eren guides you through it, working your hips into a slow grind, groaning deeply in your ear as you ride it out, moving your hips along with the rhythm he’s set. He rubs circles into your back as you come down, leaving a litter of kisses along your shoulders while you tremble on top of him, nails dug into his biceps.

“That was a big one,” Eren grins at you, all cocky and stupid, when you pull back to look at him. You’re too exhausted to berate his smugness, laughing breathlessly.

“It was good,” you agree, whimpering when Eren lifts you off of him. He tosses you to the side, propping you up on your hands and knees.

“Gonna let me have my fun, now?” Eren asks from behind you, landing a few light spanks to your ass.

“That wasn’t fun?”

“Oh, it was very fun,” Eren slides back into you, all the way to the hilt, punching a groan from your throat, “but doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, Eren’s got his hand around your throat, pulling you up onto your knees until your back is flush with his chest. His fingers sneak up, grab your chin, force you to look down.

“See? Like this, you can even see where I’m fucking all the way up into your little tummy.” His free hand rubs lovingly over the little bulge in the bottom of your stomach pulsing in and out in accordance with his slow thrusts. At this angle, Eren’s hitting that gummy spot in your walls dead-on with each snap of his hips; all you can do is cry and whimper pitifully as he picks up his pace, skin on skin echoing throughout the room. 

“E-Eren— fuck,” you can barely form words, overcome by the way he’s just using you, manhandling you and bullying you into the shape of him. Your fucked out mind struggles to grasp onto Historia’s reminder; Eren’s not just a guy, he's ruining you for any man to come after him.

“Feel good, baby?” Eren releases you, placing a hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face into the mattress creaking underneath you and shoving himself that much deeper, fucking up against your cervix. “You feel so good for me. Best pussy I’ve ever had baby, s’like magic.”

You notice the slur in his words, like he’s drunk on you, getting lost in you as much as you’re drowning in him. You shove your hips back towards him, trying to line up in rhythm with his thrusts, make this good for him too instead of being a complete pillow princess. Eren slaps his hands onto your hips and grabs hard, hard enough to leave little fingerprint bruises and move your hips for you.

“Look at you, pretty little thing all slutted out just for me,” he sounds strung out, like his inner monologue is just spilling from his lips, “lemme take care of you, bet I can-“

A hand wraps around your body, thrumming insistently against your puffy, sore clit. You’d like to think the sound that erupts from you is more akin to a moan than a scream, but you’d be lying to yourself. You claw at the bedsheets, desperately trying to run away from the overstimulation- it’s so much, he’s so much-

“Don’t run from me,” Eren slaps your clit sharply, “you can cum again for me, can’t you? After all that fucking talk earlier, I know you can.”

“I can’t, I can-“

“Yes you can,” Eren’s whispering all sweet in your ear like he’s not fucking the life out of you, “just one more, baby, then I’ll give you mine. Promise you can do it.”

Your abused cunt tightens around Eren so viciously you nearly push him out, sobbing into the bed sheets as Eren shoves you over the edge for the third time that night. Eren’s murmuring in your ear how good you are for him, how good you feel, how pretty you look crying for him, only making it all that much sweeter. His hips begin to stutter behind you, and he cums deep in you with a loud groan and a generous amount of swearing.

You collapse in a sweaty heap, Eren pulling you to his chest and affectionately rubbing circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings as you sniffle into your chest. When you start to come back to yourself, giving Eren a meek smile, he runs off to the bathroom for a washcloth to handle the wreck between your legs. That gives you the opportunity to sit up, clutching the sheets to your chest to protect any sense of modesty you might have after that, and take a look around his room.

There are some anime posters on the walls, Jujutsu Kaisen (naturally), Death Note, Bleach, and a framed picture of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa as children. You notice there’s nothing resembling a family photo, and your heart thuds sadly. There’s a desk in the corner scattered with papers, and your curiosity wins out over the trembling in your legs. You toddle over on weak knees, sheets wrapped tightly around yourself, wincing at the feeling of Eren’s cum dripping between your thighs.

To your surprise, most of the papers littering the little desk are sketches of buildings, measurements and keys to each drawing detailed on the side in neat handwriting. They almost look like blueprints, professional and meticulous. You pick one up and study it, missing the creak of the bedroom door.

“What are you doing?” Eren’s got a suspicious look on his face, holding a little cloth and a cup of water in his hands.

“Sorry,” you’re flustered, dropping the paper onto the desk, “I was just–”

“Snooping?” He cocks a knowing eyebrow, walking over to you. Your cheeks warm.

“A little. What are these?”

Eren joins you by the desk, spreading a large hand over the collection of drawings. “Designs.”

“For what?”

“I was an engineering major,” he says simply, shrugging. You can tell he’s a little uncomfortable, but when he doesn’t elaborate, your curiosity outweighs your manners.

“You went to college?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Eren chides, scooping you up bridal-style, sheets and all, and walking you both back over to sit on the bed. Your stomach does somersaults; you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of how easily he can just move you where he wants. “Yeah, I sell drugs or whatever, but ‘m not a complete idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, letting him open your legs and gently wipe at you where you’re sticky and dripping, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised s’all. Why didn’t you do anything with your degree?”

Eren frowns, clearly you’ve hit a sore spot. “I couldn’t stand the idea of the nine to five, wife and kids shit. My dad and my brother really pushed it on me, so they haven’t exactly been gung-ho about the fact I never used my diploma. They still think I’m just bartending somewhere.”

You wince; from your conversation at Scout’s, you know you’ve now tread into completely inappropriate territory for a one-night stand. “I didn’t mean to bring it up, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eren offers a tense smile, “you didn’t know.”

“Your drawings are actually really good.”

“They’re designs, not drawings,” Eren corrects you with a chuckle, “just because I finished school doesn’t mean I stopped liking the work. Just…don’t really want to settle yet, you know?”

You nod. “I know the feeling. Want to just drop it?”

Eren smiles gratefully, pulling the sheets back around you. “You cold? I can find something comfy for you to throw on while I cook.”

You scrunch your nose. “Cook?”

“Think I’d put in that much work on you and not take care of you after?” Eren snorts, already having set you on the bed and started rummaging through his drawers. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

You blush, having expected nothing more than a pat on the bottom and a goodbye after Eren added you as another notch in his belt. “Didn’t particularly take you for any type of man, but definitely not a chef. What are you cooking?

“Burgers,” Eren turns around with a triumphant grin, holding out a corny t-shirt that says Kiss the Chef on it in enormous, white letters. “You want this one, or the Grill Dad shirt?”

[tonyspank]

STAY READY (WHAT A LIFE)

"Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be..."

Summary:  In the year of 2075, in a futuristic world where soulmates are determined by their markings, you serve as a police officer in a high-tech city. However, there's more to your identity than meets the eye, and your superior, Hannah, has secrets to reveal.

Warnings: death, bit of angst, philosophy, rushed ending

A/N: had mixed emotions abt posting this, might delete bc idk how to feel, hope u guys enjoy

also wanted to post this bc i’ll be going in a little “writing vacay” basically not gonna be posting anything until i finish majority of my fics

In the year 2075, technology has advanced to unimaginable heights. Everything was futuristic, from self-driving cars and flying drones to holographic displays and virtual reality. There were some parts that still remained untouched by technology: the lower-class side of the city.

The side you passed to get home from work, was a stark contrast to the high-tech world that existed just a few blocks away. Brick buildings a few years away from crumbling away, littered streets, and dimly lit alleyways were the norm in the forgotten part of town.

The lower-class side of the city seemed frozen in time, trapped in an era that had long been left behind.

You felt similar, feeling as if you were frozen in time. Or even as if time had been in a loop, every day is the same, repeating the same routine over and over again. You had joined the police force when you turned 19.

You can't remember anything before that; it felt as if your childhood life was a blur. You had always wondered about your past, but there were no answers to be found.

There were barely any crimes due to the fact that cameras were everywhere, along with drones that could identify you in less than a second. The constant surveillance made it nearly impossible for anyone to get away with anything.

You still found a way to rank up, taking on additional responsibilities and becoming a respected member of the force. Your dedication and hard work did not go unnoticed, and you were eventually promoted to a leadership position within the police force.

"Y/LN." You raise your eyebrow, twisting your chair around toward the familiar voice. Standing in the doorway is your higher-up, Hannah, the Chief of Police. She has a stern expression on her face, waiting for you to address her.

You quickly stand up, walking over to her to see what the matter is. Hannah always had a stern expression on her face, even when she was in a good mood.

But this time, it felt different.

Hannah motions for you to follow her, leading you down the hallway towards the conference room. You follow behind Hannah with ease, dodging and weaving between the mix of androids and human officers bustling about the police station.

Entering the conference room, Hannah slaps the folder against the desk, causing a loud thud that echoes in the room. Her eyes bore into yours as she starts explaining the details of a confidential mission having to deal with the president and his late daughter.

"The sons of bitches actually made the serum..." Hannah mutters, taking a photo out of the folder and sliding it across the table towards you. The photo reveals a vial filled with a glowing blue liquid, labeled "Project Seraphim."

Project Seraphim, a top-secret government initiative, was aimed at resurrecting the president's daughter, who had tragically passed away. Ashely Redfield, the president's daughter and a young girl who never got to experience the fullness of life, was the inspiration behind Project Seraphim. The serum was meant to bring her back to life, offering a glimmer of hope to her grieving father.

"...years ago." Hannah finishes, clenching her jaw. "Dr. Murphy finished Project Seraphim and never informed anyone about its success. He kept it hidden, for what reason? I don't know. All I know is that you need to find him and get the serum. This came directly from the president, and you're the only one I trust to carry out this mission."

You eye the file on the desk, which contains all the information about Project Seraphim and Dr. Murphy's whereabouts. With a nod of your head, you agree, "Understood."

-

It was nighttime when you left the station, rain falling from the dark sky, the only thing lighting up the city being the neon signs and holograms flickering in the distance.

For the first time in years, you felt...overwhelmed. The weight of the mission and the responsibility entrusted to you by the president seemed to bear down on your shoulders. You continued to stroll through the rain-soaked streets, rolling up your sleeve slightly, revealing the mark on your forearm.

The mark was a symbol to show you had a soulmate out there. Your soulmate was supposed to have the same marking as your own, connecting the two of you in a deep and unbreakable bond.

It had always been a source of comfort and hope, knowing that somewhere in this vast city, your soulmate was waiting for you.

You run your hand over your marking, feeling the raised texture and tracing the intricate design. The feeling was soothing, even more so than the raindrops cascading down your skin, which seemed to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat, as if nature itself were in tune with the anticipation in your chest.

With a deep and long sigh, you cover up your marking, carrying on with your walk home.

Your routine has been broken. A figure stood at the edge of the bridge, which separated the two halves of your town. The figure's silhouette was illuminated by the dim streetlights, casting a shadow on the bridge's worn-out wooden planks.

You furrowed your eyebrows, breaking the cycle, and walking toward the figure, who seemed to not care about the rain that fell on them. Only a few feet away, you stood beside the now-revealed woman, who stared ahead, watching the small ripples forming in the river below.

She was gorgeous; more than gorgeous, she was enchanting, captivating even in the gloomy night. Her eyes held a hint of sadness, reflecting the weight of her thoughts. You couldn't help but be drawn to her mysterious aura, wondering what had brought her to this desolate bridge on such a rainy night.

Her lips began to curve in a small smile, and you had nearly missed the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. She turns to you, smiling softly, her eyes pouring into yours—eye contact that felt both intimate and unsettling. It was as if she could see right through you, unraveling the depths of your soul with just a glance.

You found yourself captivated by her gaze, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of her eyes. Then you heard her for the first time, your heartbeat racing more than it ever has before. Was this healthy?

"The rain can be quite therapeutic, wouldn't you agree?" Her voice was like a gentle melody, soothing yet mysterious. You feel the raindrops on your skin, cooling and cleansing, as if washing away the weight of the world. It's as if her words have a magical power, bringing a sense of calm and clarity to your troubled mind.

"Yes, it is," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your eyes away from her. The way she spoke and the way she looked at you made you feel like she could understand every hidden part of your being. She gives you another smile before turning her attention back to the river. "I'm Jenna if you were wondering."

"Y/N."

"I like watching the rain hit the water—seeing the ripples in the water as each raindrop creates its own unique pattern." Your eyes don't drift away from the woman, watching her side profile as she gazes out at the rain-soaked scenery.

"Even watching the raindrops that hit the dock is mesmerizing," she adds. "There are more than 200,000 raindrops that fall a minute, yet each one has its own individual impact on the world around us. People take rain for granted, complaining about how it ruins their plans or makes them wet, but they fail to appreciate the beauty and significance of each raindrop."

She continues, "Rain is essential for life, nourishing plants and hell even replenishing our water sources. It's a reminder of nature's power and the interconnectedness of all living things."

She turns back toward you, her eyes flickering with a sense of wonder. "Don't you kind of think we're like raindrops? Each of us may seem small and insignificant on our own, but together we have the power to create a ripple effect and make a difference in the world." She smiles as you stare at her, confused and intrigued by her analogy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get too philosophical there. It's just something I've been thinking about lately. But hey, maybe it's something worth pondering, right?" She chuckles, breaking the momentary silence between you two.

You break into a smile. "No, don't apologize. I actually love that analogy. It's a beautiful way to look at things." Jenna's smile increases, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. "I'm glad you think so," she replies.

"Sometimes, it's easy to feel like our actions don't matter in the grand scheme of things. But if we can believe that even the smallest acts of kindness or positive change can create a ripple effect, then maybe we can find the motivation to keep making a difference. Like you taking the time out of your night to listen to me," she whispers the last part, breaking the eye contact she's been holding and looking down at her hands.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off by the angelic voice. "Thank you; it was really nice talking to you, but I have to go now."

Jenna walks away in a hurry, leaving you standing on the wooden bridge alone, feeling a mixture of confusion and gratitude. You watch her disappear into the distance, wondering what impact your conversation had on her.

-

It's been days since your mission and days since your conversation with Jenna. You find yourself replaying the conversation in your mind, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind her words. The memory of her angelic voice and the intensity of the moment still linger, leaving you with a sense of longing to know if she's okay.

A knock is heard at your door, interrupting your thoughts. John, a fellow officer in your field, hands you a file with a frown on his face. "Homicide," he says, scratching his beard. "We've got a new case, and it's a messy one. I thought you should take a look."

You quickly skim through the file while John briefs you on the details. "A young girl in her 20s was found dead three days ago, but there's no sign of a fight nor any obvious cause of death. We have her body in the laboratory for further examination, but so far, the autopsy results have been inconclusive. It's like she just... died. No witnesses, no suspects, nothing. Her names—"

Jenna?

"—Jenna." Your heart drops, flipping back and forth between shock and disbelief. Jenna. The same Jenna you met on the bridge that night, and the same Jenna that is supposedly your soulmate.

The marking on her back is the same as the marking on your arm. You feel a chill run down your spine as you realize you met your soulmate that night. Only once you find out do you realize that she is now gone forever.

What could have happened to Jenna, and why did fate bring you together only to tear you apart so suddenly?

"Y/LN? You alright?" John mutters, snapping you out of your thoughts. You eye the officer, still lost in your own world.

No, you weren't going to let the only person who brought you happiness after such a long time slip away without a fight.

Without a word, you jump up from your chair, pushing past your co-workers and rushing out of the office. You were going to use that serum on Jenna, not the president's daughter.

You burst through the doors of the laboratory, Hannah standing there with a puzzled expression on her face. "Y/LN, what's going on?" she asks, you were the last person she expected to see bursting into the lab.

Ignoring her question, you turn to a worker at the lab and urgently ask, "Where is Jenna Ortega's body? I need to see her immediately." The worker looks taken aback by your sudden request but quickly directs you to the morgue.

You remember the room number, then return back to Hannah, bumping past her and into the room she had just exited, the serum had been held here until the president was able to make his way down to your city, fortunately, he had been too busy to visit the lab earlier.

The four-digit code that you set and remember with ease is punched into the safe, unlocking with a loud beep. You grab the blue serum, turning around, only to be met with a gun pointed at your face. The person holding the gun is none other than Hannah; her expression cold and determined.

"Damnit, Y/LN. Don't make me do this," she mumbles, taking the safety off her gun. "Who told you about Jenna, huh?" You freeze, your mind racing to figure out how Hannah found out about Jenna.

"You knew? You knew Jenna was my soulmate?" Your voice trembles as you try to comprehend the situation. Hannah pauses for a moment, her grip on the gun tightening. "I've known for a while now," she admits. "There's some things you don't understand. You have an old soul, and I like that about you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You grit, confusion, and anger bubbling up inside you. Hannah's eyes narrow, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.

"You're not human, Y/N. You're something more, something special. You were created by SynthoTech, a company that specializes in advanced artificial intelligence and genetic engineering. They designed you to possess enhanced abilities and a unique consciousness, and it was either to terminate you or let you work for the government.

You're unlike any other Android that's been created before. Your thoughts and emotions are not just programmed responses but rather a genuine experiences. You have the capacity to feel joy, love, and even pain.

It's both a gift and a burden as you navigate a world that may not fully understand or accept you. I don't know why Jenna was your soulmate; I really don't get it, but we couldn't let you get off your program. So I had to eliminate her."

Hannah lets out a sigh. "Fucking hell, Y/N. Just set down the serum and let's figure out a way to keep you safe. No one has to know about this, okay? I can reset your program--"

"No!" You interrupt, "I'm not going to let you erase my memories and reset me like some kind of...fuck...no. You killed Jenna, and now you want to erase her from my existence too? This is so fucked up."

"The world is a fucked up place, Y/LN. What do expect to happen if you inject Jenna with that serum? You think the president is gonna let an android and human have a happily ever after with the cure that was made for his daughter?"

You shake your head, anger and frustration coursing through you. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be part of some twisted experiment or to be caught in the middle of political agendas. Jenna deserved better than this, and so do I."

"And so did Ashely; Jenna got to live her life, but Ashely was robbed of that opportunity." You take a step closer to Hannah, your eyebrows furrowed together tightly.

"Do you fucking hear yourself? You also robbed Jenna of the opportunity to live her life. You killed her for something she couldn't control! You're a hypocrite."

Hannah's face pales as your words sink in. She takes a step back, her eyes filled with guilt and remorse. The weight of her actions finally dawns on her, leaving her speechless and unable to defend herself.

Hannah lowers her gun and says, "Hurry." You hesitate for a moment, conflicted by the sudden change in Hannah's demeanor. "What?"

"Hurry up before I change my mind," Hannah says, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be responsible for any more pain and suffering."

Taking your chance, you run out of the room and toward Jenna with the serum in your hand.

You unlock the door to the morgue and step inside, the cold air hitting you as you scan the room for Jenna Ortega's body. She lies on a stainless steel table, pale and lifeless. You rush to her side, praying that it's not too late. Injecting the serum into your soulmate, you watch anxiously as her body stirs and color returns to her cheeks.

You whisper words of encouragement, urging Jenna to fight for her life.

Relief washes over you as Jenna's eyes flutter open, and she takes a deep breath. "Y/N," she whispers weakly, her voice barely audible. You hold her hand tightly, grateful that you were able to save her from the brink of death.

You roll up your sleeve, revealing the marking on your forearm, silently explaining that you're her soulmate. Jenna's gaze shifts to your forearm, her eyes widening with recognition as she traces her finger over the marking.

[eomayas]

interruptions • dks

pairing: prof!kyungsoo x wife!reader

synopsis: two times the reader interrupts professor kyungsoo and the two times he loves it

genre: fluffyyyyy, first half is a little suggestive

warnings: none

a/n: hiiii this is kind of a filler bc i have other things to post but they’re taking too long and this was in my brain and is super short. i love kyungsoo bye

kyungsoo lifts his eyes from the test papers in front of him when the door to his office is opened. you slip inside, a tired smile on your face. “hey, baby,” his throat is scratchy from not having said anything in the last few hours. it’s timbre makes your heart flutter.

“sorry to interrupt, but it’s late,” you comment, walking over to him. kyungsoo spins around in his chair to face you and opens his legs for you to walk into. kyungsoo puts his hands on the back of your exposed thighs while your hands fall to his shoulders. “are you going to come to bed?” you ask, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“i’m still grading,” he says, sliding his hands up higher underneath your silk nightgown. kyungsoo looks up at you with wide eyes and wets his lips as he drags his eyes up your body. you raise an eyebrow at him and he leans back in chair, pulling you closer to him so you practically fall into his lap. “coming to keep me company?” he mumbles, kissing the underside of your jaw.

you situate yourself on his lap and look down at him. he glances down at your chest and you scoff lightly. “you missed your chance for the night,” you say, rolling your eyes when he sticks out his bottom lip. “too bad.” you say, kissing him on the lips. kyungsoo wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to him.

he skates his free hand higher up on your leg, sliding over your smooth and underwear free hip. he stops kissing you and pulls back. “really?” he mutters, reaching for the tie of your silk robe.

“i was waiting for you,” you say, readjusting yourself on his lap. he bites his bottom lip as his member strains in his pants. “but it’s late, and we both have work in the morning.” you add, gently running a hand over his hair.

“we can be quick,” he says, pulling your robe open. you let him, liking the way he checks you out like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “damn, y/n.” he mumbles, a small smile on his face as he runs his finger tips over the hem of the nightgown. kyungsoo licks his lips again as he drags his eyes up from your heavily exposed chest, to your eyes. “i’ll be quick.” he says, almost like a promise.

you chuckle and stand up from his lap. “don’t stay up too late, soo,” you say, bending over to give him a kiss (and to let him look down your dress one more time). “goodnight, baby. i love you.” you say from the doorway, giving him a soft smile before leaving and shutting the door behind you.

“love you too,” he mutters at the door, his hand palming himself through his pants pathetically.

as calmly as possible, kyungsoo rakes through the briefcase again, pressing a hand through his forehead as all of the papers in it belong to you. in his rush this morning, he must’ve grabbed yours on his way out. it’s a rookie mistake, one he hasn’t made in years, but he’s been distracted all morning and this just proves how much. your work bags are similar, but there are notable differences like his being a zipper opening and yours being held together by buckles. his had a straps as well as a handle, and yours just a handle.

kyungsoo sighs and checks his watch, pressing his lips into a thin line as he notices he’s late to start class. “morning, everybody,” he says, clearing his throat. “sorry for the late start, i, err, grabbed my wife’s briefcase on accident.” he admits, earning a few snickers from his students.

he walks around the front of his desk and leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “so i don’t have your tests with me—i know, i know. i’m already a class behind. but i posted the grades online a few minutes ago, so you should be able to see how you did. i have no lesson plan, so in the meantime, we can just chat about anything, i guess,” he says, an embarrassed blush forming on his cheeks. kyungsoos eyes scan the class of bored students who clearly want to go home. “no takers? alright, somebody catch me up on the chapter we read last night.” he says, grabbing his mug off of his desk and taking a sip of his coffee.

the class is silent and he snorts behind his cup. “im serious. if nobody answers either options, then i’ll just move the deadline for the project up a week,” kyungsoo threatens—he won’t actually do it, but he’s not going to sit here like an idiot. a few hands shoot up and he calls on the first student he sees, who reviews the reading that was assigned last night.

kyungsoo freestyles the lesson, utilizing the whiteboard way more than he typically would because of his lack of slides and lesson plan. he’s deep into lecturing when the door of the classroom opens and he snaps his head to see who it is, ready to tell whoever it is not to interrupt like that again, until he sees you trying to sneak in as quietly as possible.

a small smile stretches across his lips as you glance around at the students guiltily, feeling bad for interrupting. “sorry to interrupt,” you say to everyone, ducking your head and smiling bashfully as you make your way to the front towards your husband. “hi. you grabbed the wrong one.” you say, dropping his bag onto his desk and taking yours.

“technically, we both grabbed the wrong one,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “thank you, by the way.” he says, clasping his hand over yours. you smile at him and then remember you have an audience, and slip away from him.

“i’ll see you later,” you say, starting to walk away.

“y/n,” he says. you turn around and he raises his eyebrows at you. aren’t you forgetting something? he asks with his eyes. your cheeks tinge pink before you hop back up to him and place a chaste kiss to his lips that makes somebody in the classroom ‘aw’ at the two of you. “oh, give me a break.” kyungsoo says, squeezing your hand before saying goodbye and watching you speed walk out of the classroom. you stop at the doorway and face him, mouthing ‘i love you’ before disappearing, leaving him to mumble a ‘love you too’ to his shoes, a smile on his face.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

i keep thinking about my changeling steve au that i posted about here like. What About His Parents

this ended up so long i put it on ao3 too, you can read it here

like steves known he’s a changeling for a few months now, and in that time his parents still haven’t come home. he hasn’t really thought about it, except during his weekly scheduled 3am identity crisis. eddie’s told him that based on what he knows about changelings (just from old stories and things, neither he nor wayne have ever actually met one, which makes him kind of useless as a guru but like. points for trying), their human parents usually have a human baby that gets replaced and they don’t notice until the kid grows up Wrong. honestly, it figures that his parents just never got around to noticing.

at least that’s what he thinks. but one day, he’s walking past his dad’s office, struggling to carry a huge pile of laundry bc he put it off too long and ended up having to wash like literally every piece of clothing he owns. and a tshirt slips right as he passes the door. he reaches out for it on instinct, brushes his hand against the handle, and it hurts. hurts so bad he drops his laundry, instinctively drawing his hand in to cradle the pain. did he overestimate his strength again? he’s been doing that a lot lately, kind of embarrassing to break his hand or something punching a doorknob by accident. but then he looks at his hand, and he doesn’t have the kind of mark he’d expect from just whacking it really hard. it’s red and shiny, like a burn in the exact shape of the doorknob

it’s an iron burn. none of the other knobs in the house are iron.

honestly of all the restrictions placed on him now that he’s become Fully Fae, he thought the iron sensitivity would come up more often. turns out not much is made of iron anymore. all the other doorknobs he’s touched have been aluminum or brass or something. so far the whole ‘needing to be invited in to places’ has been way more annoying. the kids don’t know about the whole fae thing yet and also have no manners, so he’s been doing a lot of loitering outside their open doors until their parents notice and politely invite him in.

he looks at the doorknob again. it doesn’t look like iron. it looks like all the other knobs in the house, sort of light and shiny. he brings his hand near it again, and he can feel the heat coming off it before his skin even touches the metal.

he’s not allowed in his dad’s office. it’s one of the few rules his parents ever enforced, his dad glaring at him if steve happened to be in the hall when he opened the door, like he thought steve would try to make a run into the room in the three seconds of open door time he was given. steve could take a hint, even as a kid.

now though, there’s something prickling at the base of his skull, that new sense he has for something being wrong screaming at him that it’s certainly odd that the one room in the house that he’s not allowed to enter is also the one room in the house with a door he can’t physically touch.

he does what any reasonable fairy would do. abandons his gigantic pile of laundry on the floor and runs downstairs to call a witch.

eddie shows up about five minutes earlier than he reasonably should have, which probably wasn’t magic but instead him fucking flooring it the entire way to steve’s house. he’s got a big messenger bag over his shoulder, and he pulls a smaller bag out of it and displays the bunch of weird bent pins inside with a conspiratorial eyebrow wiggle

‘i have literally always been looking for an excuse to use these. you’re my hero, stevie.’

steve snorts and leads eddie upstairs. the witch kindly doesn’t mention the laundry strewn all over the hallway, just kicks a pair of (clean!!!!) boxers out of the way and kneels down in front of the door, inspecting the knob closely.

‘it doesn’t look like iron.’

‘tell that to my hand, man. i spent the entire time you were driving over here running my hand under cold water and it still fucking hurts.’

eddie hums, absentmindedly grabbing steve’s hand as he continues to squint at the knob. he runs his thumb over the burn mark and the pain is instantly gone.

steve looks at his hand. it’s totally fine, no mark at all. ‘thanks,’ he says, and eddie shoots him a little smile over his shoulder before turning back to the door.

‘no magic on it,’ he mutters. he brings a nail up and scratches lightly at the knob. the silver of it flakes a little, exposing something darker underneath. it’s painted. iron painted to look like the aluminum of the other knobs in the house. steve and eddie exchange frowns.

eddie quickly grabs his picks, shoves them into the lock and wiggling them around for a bit. like a while. steve’s about to tease him for his apparent lack in any actual criminal ability when something clicks, and eddie turns the door handle with a whoop. the door swings open, and eddie sniffs for a minute, like alarm magic has a scent component or something, before shrugging and rushing in.

and steve goes to follow. well, he tries. when he lifts his foot to cross the threshold of the room, something physically stops him. it’s like a strong wind is coming out of the room, blowing back his leg anytime it gets too close. eddie looks back at him in confusion, before his eyes land on something on the doorjamb and his face falls into something cold. steve follows his line of sight and his heart stops for a second.

there’s a small horseshoe nailed to the doorjamb.

until now, steve realises he’d been hoping there was a reasonable explanation for the iron handle. maybe when they were building the house the store ran out of aluminum ones so his dad just got an iron one because it looked the most similar, something like that. but there’s no reason for the horseshoe. no reason except that someone wanted to keep fae out of this room. which means whoever put it there knew fae entering this room was a risk.

his parents fucking knew what he was. they just never said or did anything about it. nothing except block off this room.

eddie shifts a little in the middle of the room. ‘steve?’ he asks. his voice is soft, hesitant, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal. ‘are you okay?’

steve wrenches his eyes away from the horseshoe, focusses on his feet. when he catches a glimpse of his clenched fists by his hips, he realises he’s glowing again, sparks dancing up and down his veins and lighting him up from the inside like a human lava lamp. well, not so human. that’s the problem.

he takes a deep breath to get his magic under control before he accidentally lights something on fire. looks up to eddie, still standing in the middle of the office like he doesn’t know what to do. ‘he’s hiding something in here. find it.’

part of steve, the human part, feels bad for ordering his friend around like that. but eddie just nods with determination, rooting around in his bag for something.

‘i’m not sensing any secrecy charms or alarms or anything in here, which means i can use...’ he takes a travel mug out of the bag and brandishes it with a flourish. ‘this!’

steve snorts. ‘a cup of coffee?’

eddie rolls his eyes, shaking the mug for a second and then opening it to check on the contents. ‘it’s a brewed spell. it shows hidden things.’

‘and you put it in a travel mug?’

‘oh i’m sorry, i was running a little low on fuckin’. crystal flasks. what the hell else was i supposed to put it in?’

‘i just thought with your whole... satanist metalhead deal you’d be a little more dedicated to the witchy aesthetic.’

eddie huffs, grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like i’ll show you witchy aesthetic, before upending the travel mug onto the floor.

what comes out isn’t really liquid, more like the soupy fog that comes out of a fog machine, except it’s a pleasant sage green colour. the fog quickly covers the whole room, before seeming to pool in two areas: one under the desk and another over the little throw rug in the middle of the room.

‘okay, we got two hidden things, which one are we checking out first?’

steve considers. ‘the desk one is probably just boring shit. pictures of his mistress, or, i dunno, evidence of tax fraud or something. try the rug.’

eddie nods decisively, throwing back the rug and inspecting the wooden floorboards until he finds one that seems a little loose. he pulls it back with a bit of a grunt, and immediately sticks his hand down there and starts rummaging around like he wouldn’t start screaming bloody murder the second a spider touched his hand. after a moment, he makes a triumphant sound, and pulls out a book.

it looks old, maybe a hundred years or so, and steve has the fleeting thought that if nancy found out his dad had been keeping a fragile antique book under the floorboards, she’d probably rip him that new one she’s been threatening since steve brought her to a family dinner and his dad called her ‘lower middle class’ like it was a bad thing.

‘it’s a grimoire,’ eddie says, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gently opening the book. at steve’s confused silence, he adds, ‘a spellbook. sort of. looks like this one isn’t a witch’s grimoire, it’s mostly human magic, judging by the table of contents.’

‘i thought regular humans couldn’t do magic.’

‘they can’t do like, spells. but there’s little stuff, especially when it comes to dealing with other creatures. like, uh,’ a pained look crosses his face as he inclines his head to the horseshoe still denying steve entry. ‘the horseshoe. technically magic. if they’d just hung it for like, decoration, it wouldn’t keep you out. there’s gotta be intent behind it.’

steve huffs, glaring at the horseshoe. ‘so what, they figured out i was a changeling and they got a whole book to figure out how to herd me like a sheep?’

eddie winces at steve’s tone, but hey, who can blame him. this is a lot. ‘maybe. there’s a lot of stuff about fae in here. descriptions of types, etiquette stuff, protections- oh shit.’

steve snaps his head back to eddie, who’s currently staring at the book like a spider’s just crawled out of the binding. then he seems to gather himself, muttering furiously under his breath as he flips through the pages, no more care shown for the book’s antiquity. ‘what is it?’

eddie settles on a page towards the back of the book, reading through with a furious look on his face. he gets up, walks over to steve still standing helplessly in the doorway, and thrusts the book towards him. steve looks down.

the words are a little hard to read, handwritten with spidery loops and the ink a little faded, but steve eventually gets the gist.

it’s instructions for summoning a changeling child.

steve, stupid, forgiving steve, thinks for a moment that this isn’t so bad. maybe his parents couldn’t have biological kids or something and this seemed like their only option. weird to not just adopt a human child, but whatever. and then he reads the paragraph extolling the virtues of having a changeling in the house- how they bring good luck, how they have a nose for finding treasures, and he realises no. his parents never wanted a kid (like he didn’t already know that), they wanted a superpowered pet. the final nail in the coffin is when he reads that the summoning process involves a human child, too. they’d had their own kid at one point, biologically or adopted, and they’d traded them in for a newer, more exciting model probably without a second thought.

and then they’d abandoned the newer model too.

steve barely even realises when he sets the book on fire, the glow that’s been simmering under his skin since he first saw the horseshoe spilling out from his fingertips in a shower of sparks. eddie doesn’t even really react, just calmly bats the flaming book out of steve’s hands and uses one of the sweaters littering the ground to smother the fire. he doesn’t mention the way the lights are flickering, pulsing light so strongly they’re in danger of blowing out. just softly wraps his arms around steve’s torso, murmuring gentle words into the crook of his neck as he strokes his hair.

the first tears that fall from steve’s eyes dissolve into harmless sparks of light against eddie’s shoulder. eddie doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps stroking steve’s hair as he whispers that it’s okay, eddie’s there, eddie’s got him.

steve doesn’t know how long they stand there like that. when he pulls back to wipe his eyes, his light-tears are still hanging in the air around them like an asteroid belt made of hundreds of little still fireflies. eddie pokes one. it glows brighter.

rubbing his face, steve sighs, waves the lights away with a motion of his hand. eddie looks put out for a second, before catching the determined look in steve’s eye and watching him warily.

‘what are you going to do?’ he asks, a little apprehensively.

‘i’m going to call my dad,’ steve replies, stalking off towards the stairs before eddie can even get out a strangled ‘okay?’

steve’s already punched in the number for his dad’s office by the time eddie catches up. his secretary picks up, asks who’s calling, and steve musters all the charm he can to try and convince her to put him through. she usually doesn’t, apologetically explains that his dad’s in a meeting, or out of the office, or swamped with work, or a hundred other excuses, but that she’ll tell him steve called and he’ll get back to him as soon as possible. he never does. steve’s not sure if she knows that; the guilt in her voice could just as easily be because she’s sleeping with him and feels bad for ruining their ‘perfect family’.

either way, steve’s not taking chances. he’s never tried to magically charm someone over the phone before, doesn’t even do it much in person either, it feels skeevy (although he has gotten out of a suspicious amount of detentions, even before he fully came into his magic. whoops.). but wouldn’t you know, this time she says he’s called at the perfect time, his dad’s just got out of a meeting and she’s sure he’d be thrilled to hear from his loving son. steve has to physically bite back a cutting remark as she puts him through.

for all his rage, steve doesn’t really remember much of this conversation. he talks like he’s in a fugue state, his brain packing everything away into some dark corner of his mind the second after it’s said, focussing instead on the way eddie’s face gets steadily more distressed where he can see it out of the corner of his eye.

he knows he asks his dad to come home so they can talk about something important. he knows his dad scoffs, tells him he can’t possibly come home right now and steve can’t possibly have anything to say that’s so important he can’t say it over the phone. knows he tells his dad he found the book under the floorboards. knows the silence on the other end of the phone is so loud it’s deafening.

the rest of it is fuzzy. honestly, it probably goes exactly how he expected it was going to go. there’s some yelling, some accusations, his dad calls him a disappointment once or ten times. and at the end of it his dad tells him if he’s going to be so ungrateful he can pack his bags and get out of the house the real harringtons are paying for.

eddie hangs up the phone for him when he hears that. hard not to hear it, the way harrington sr. is screaming through the phoneline. if steve tried hard enough, he could probably still hear him yelling all the way from indianapolis, and he probably wouldn’t even need to use magic.

they stand in silence for a moment. steve staring at the phone, eddie staring at steve. and then steve feels an itch under his skin.

he’s no longer welcome in this house.

he’s got a couple minutes before the nausea sets in, probably, so he books it upstairs to fit as much of his shit in his sports bag as he can fit. it’s mainly clothes. god knows he doesn’t give a shit about any of the things his parents- no, mr. and mrs. harrington- picked out for his perfect boy’s room. there’s the walkie, a couple gifts from the kids. that’s it.

and then he’s out, stumbling a little over the threshold when the magic finally locks in and physically boots him from the house. eddie’s following behind, frantically grabbing his bag and his jacket as he shouts for steve’s attention.

‘what, you’re just gonna leave? immediately? you can take more time to get your stuff-’

‘no,’ steve says, the word ripping itself from his throat, short and harsh. ‘‘no i can’t actually. don’t have an invitation.’

and isn’t that look on eddie’s face heartbreaking. steve doesn’t want to cry out here- it’s a little early for firefly season and the lights would get too much attention. so he throws his bags in the backseat of the beamer, gets in the driver’s seat, and just. sits for a second.

eddie gets in next to him, gives him a gentle look. ‘are you alright?’

steve snorts, giving eddie a side-eye.

‘yeah, okay, fair,’ eddie replies with a weak huff of a laugh. ‘you got a plan?’

shit. no he didn’t, actually. ‘i mean, worst comes to worst, i guess i could sleep in a tree? i just figured out how to get in one, pretty good timing, huh?’

eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. not impossible, but steve thinks he’d notice. ‘sleep in a tree? what the hell does that mean?’

steve shrugs. ‘like, just climb inside. it’s kinda like putting on a jacket, really, but like. 360 degrees. could probably only do that to sleep, though, i haven’t really figured out how to not like, become the tree. And trees don’t really do anything, so it just makes me sleepy.’

eddie continues to stare at him a second before he shakes his head dramatically, like a dog getting out of a bath. steve huffs a laugh despite himself. ‘whatever, don’t sleep in a tree man, that’s crazy. you can stay at mine, if you want.’

‘what?’

eddie shrugs. ‘i mean, it’s no 360 degree jacket, but it’s nice. lots of amenities that trees don’t offer: shower, stove, tv, et cetera.’

‘that’s-’ that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered him. eddie’s looked out for him since he came into his magic, and they’re friends, yeah, but this is... so much. he’s been to eddie’s place, knows he doesn’t have a lot of space, but he’s still offering to share it with steve, so easily it’s like it’s not even a question whether he’s welcome. steve can’t accept. ‘what about wayne?’

eddie just snorts. ‘dude, excepting, like, me being his nephew/adopted son whom he loves dearly, he likes you like. way better than me. you’re the little sports son he never had. frankly if he found out you’d been kicked out and i didn’t offer to give you a place to stay he’d probably kick me out. well, no he wouldn’t. but he would give me that ‘im not mad im just disappointed’ look and that sucks too.’

‘you’d do that?’ and steve hates how small his voice sounds right now. he’s had a day.

but eddie just looks at him with those big, gentle eyes of his. says ‘of course’ like there’s no other response he could give. so steve smiles. thanks him softly, and drives them to the munson trailer. neither of them mention the firefly-tears that fill the car like fairy lights strung from the ceiling.

and they get to the trailer. eddie offers steve his bed, and they argue good-naturedly about it until they both give up and settle in together, eddie petting steve’s hair as they cuddle in a way that’s probably not all that platonic, but neither of them seem to care. it’s nice. soft.

it’s ruined a bit when eddie sits bolt upright with a ‘shit! my van’s still in loch nora!’ but the way they both laugh so hard they can’t breathe is nice too.

steve’s only been here for a few hours, and he’s already never felt more at home.

and here’s the tags! this is literally the first time anyone has asked me to tag them for more, thank you for making me feel like a celebrity lol

@fairytalesreality @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

Okay, so I don't usually post my fics directly on tumblr (usually just on ao3 with a link on here) but ao3 is down atm and I finished the dbd x mphfpc fic!

Tagging @fellow-fandom-fruitifier bc he asked :)

Um...I'll add what would be tags here:

Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Books)

Not really any necessary content warnings. Just a nice little case without anything dangerous, for once.

Word Count: 2069

The Case of the Lost Boys

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives find themselves on the island of Cairnholm, investigating the whereabouts of a wandering ghost and his unfinished business.

While London alone was teeming with ghosts with issues to solve, occasionally ghosts brought cases from farther away. Typically, these cases were much simpler than what would, 25 years later, lead them to Port Townsend.

One of these cases, back in 1998, was The Case of the Lost Boys. 

The ghost of a young woman arrived in their office one afternoon. While the case didn’t necessarily concern her directly, she had spent a lot of time with the affected ghost. A young boy, around Charles and Edwin’s age, had been wandering the island of Cairnholm for decades, the woman said. He was looking for something—someone—that just wasn’t there. The woman paid them sufficiently, and Charles and Edwin agreed to take the case.

Mirror hopping led the two detectives through the mirror inside a bathroom, which was attached to a motel room, which was above a tavern. The sheer amount of noise coming from below caused Edwin to simply walk through the wall to get outside, instead of going down the stairs and through the tavern on the ground floor. It was one of several things that freaked Charles out every time Edwin did it. To his credit, however, Edwin was trying to do it less when Charles reminded him of it. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still forget from time to time.

Edwin walked through a second floor wall and landed on his feet on the ground outside. A few minutes later, Charles was next to him, having taken the long way around. “Mate, you can’t keep doing that! I know you’re fine, but I still forget we’re dead sometimes.”

“Right, my apologies. I’ll use the door next time. I simply didn’t care to walk through such a loud establishment.”

“Next time, we’ll take the stairs and walk through a wall on the first floor, yeah?”

“Agreed. Now, let us track down this wayward ghost, shall we?”

After a bit of walking, the two detectives found the place their client had mentioned the boy to frequent. They had to wait a while, but, sure enough, the boy wandered through the bog and up near the old, previously bombed out house on the far side of the island. Once they were sure he’d stay there for a while, Charles and Edwin followed him up, Charles holding his cricket bat out in front of him.

“Excuse me,” called Edwin, “but we were called because we were told you might need help.”

The boy turned around. He’d been tearing through pieces of the house, searching. “My sister. She was here.”

“When it was bombed during the war?” asked Charles. He hadn’t quite gotten around to explaining the second world war to Edwin, but Charles knew London and other parts of the region had taken a lot of damage. He’d paid some attention during his history classes.

“Yes, but it always reset before anyone got hurt.”

“What do you mean, reset?”

“The bird reset it to the night before the house was destroyed. We would watch the show each night before bed. Then I went out one night, and I died. I can’t get back in. I haven’t seen her in years!” The boy punched a wall, causing chunks of it to fall out. Charles pulled Edwin backwards, out of the house entirely.

“I think he’s lost his mind,” said Charles, once he and Edwin were alone again. The two of them were poring over Edwin’s notes.

“It seems he’s lost his sister, and, though the house was bombed with her in it, he believes she’s alive.”

“He mentioned it all being reset. Sounds like a time loop, doesn’t it?”

“That it does, Charles, but we cannot see it, and therefore we cannot break it.”

“Is that even the problem, though? If he just sees his sister, he’ll move on.”

“That would be quite easy, Charles, if only we knew where the sister was.”

They didn’t even know the ghost’s name, and now they needed to find his sister, too? This wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.

Charles and Edwin returned to the island the next day, after spending the night in the office reading up on time loops and delirium in ghosts. This time, they used the stairs to exit the tavern, and by the time they reached the old house it was midday. Despite the sun being high in the sky they still couldn’t see very well in the old charred house. Charles pulled two flashlights from his backpack and the search continued.

Eventually, Charles found a hole in the floor. “Edwin, come look at this!”

The boy in question followed Charles’s voice until they were both looking down into the hole. Edwin went down into the hole while Charles stood lookout, just in case the ghost boy made another appearance.

Inside the hole in the ground, Edwin found a trunk of old photos, featuring children doing largely impossible or supernaturally odd things. As he sifted through them, a second light appeared above his head. It was a soft glow, like a fireplace, and Edwin looked up right as Charles called, “Edwin?”

A girl stood next to Charles, holding a ball of flames above the hole to see into it better. Edwin heard her voice echo as she asked Charles, “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Stay back,” warned Charles, pointing his cricket bat at her.

“What. Are you doing. In our house?” asked the girl, punctuating each set of words with a few steps forward. Behind her, Charles soon noticed, were a smaller girl, likely about seven years old, and a boy the older girl’s age that gave off a faint buzzing sound if it was quiet.

“We were just leaving, actually.” Charles took a step back.

“Good,” said the girl.

“Emma,” said the younger girl, “we should go before we’re late for lunch.”

Emma grimaced, turning around towards the two that were with her. “I suppose so. The bird will be angry if we’re late.” She cast one last warning glare over her shoulder at Charles, and then the three of them were gone.

Edwin climbed back out of the hole, with help from a rope Charles had in his backpack, and reported his findings to Charles. “It appears to be a group of syndrigasti: a variant of human with an extra soul. These extra souls give them special abilities, such as the boy’s ability to do so much damage around this place, and the girl’s fire.”

“So, his sister must be one too?”

“Not necessarily. It’s a relatively rare condition, however, it is especially likely in this case. If he cannot find her, and neither can we, she’s likely in a time loop for the living. Only syndrigasti can enter, and we are not that.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad then, does it? He can go in himself and find her.”

“Not if he died in a certain way. If the creature that killed him consumed his extra soul, then he can no longer enter the time loop, as he said before. We will need to get the sister to leave the loop temporarily.”

“How do we do that?”

“I do not know. I suppose if we can find another occupant of the time loop, we may be able to get a message across. For that, however, we’ll need more information from the boy.”

“What about that girl, Emma? She had abilities, didn’t she?”

“We don’t know for sure that she lives there, though it is likely. Unfortunately, they’ve gone, and we still do not know how to enter the time loop.”

Later in the day, the detectives found the boy in the same place as the day before. Charles stood by with his bat while Edwin questioned the wayward ghost. They learned that the boy’s name was Victor, his sister’s name was Bronwyn, and that he had, in fact, died in the way Edwin had suspected. 

The one good thing about all this was that he remembered how to enter the time loop. Charles suggested writing on the cave’s wall and hoping they’d see it when one of them left again. Edwin, however, thought it might frighten the children if they saw a note reading “Bronwyn, your brother is looking for you”, considering Victor had been dead for decades.

Instead, Edwin wrote out a neat note and attached it to the wall of the cave:

Bronwyn Bruntley,

I am from the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We were called in about your brother. His ghost is still on the island in the present day. Until he has closure, he will not move on to his afterlife. Victor’s unfinished business is seeing his sister again. Once you receive this, it would help both of us if you could leave the time loop temporarily to reunite with your brother.

Sincerely,

Edwin Payne

Edwin and Charles stayed on the island late into the evening, watching the mouth of the cave for someone to take Edwin’s note. Eventually, the note seemingly disappeared on its own. It moved like it was being removed from the wall by a hand, but there was no hand. It floated through the cave and disappeared through the other end.

Less than an hour later, two girls and a floating hat emerged from the mouth of the cave, each of them able to see Edwin and Charles (or so they assumed). One of the girls, the one that wore trousers and a shirt, asked, “Are you Edwin Payne?” She held the note in her hands.

“I am Edwin Payne. You must be Bronwyn.”

“I am. You found my brother?”

“We did.”

Victor, who had been all but dragged over near the bog by Charles earlier, stepped closer to the girls.

“Wyn?”

“Victor!”

The two siblings embraced so tightly that anyone else might have bruised a rib from it. Edwin and Charles gave them a bit of space for their little reunion, until, eventually, Edwin had to burst their bubble.

“I do not mean to bring down the room, but since your unfinished business has now been finished, Death will be coming to collect you shortly. Therefore, Charles and I must be going, now.” Edwin turned on his heel and began to walk away, Charles shortly behind him. 

Then, the other girl, Emma, called out, “Wait!” and Edwin stopped. He turned back around to look at her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you work with the living at all, but I’ve been looking for a certain boy since the last war. If I give you a name, can you send the results to our post box in town?”

Edwin’s expression softened slightly, and he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Of course. What is the name?”

“Abraham Portman.”

This second, smaller case did not require that the Dead Boy Detectives remain on Cairnholm. The two of them did, however, have to use their disguises that would allow them to appear living. They searched computers and phone directories until they found the man Emma had been looking for.

The two ghosts finally found Abraham’s house in Florida, in the United States. Mirror hopping there was easy. The difficult part was deciding how to explain it to Emma. Abraham was married by then. He had a wife, two children, and his son even had a son of his own. So much time had passed since Emma was this young. Edwin understood far better than he’d have liked to.

Edwin ultimately wrote Emma, sending the letter to the postbox she gave the address to. Charles looked it over for sensitivity purposes, and then off it went. A week later, Edwin received a letter in return, thanking both he and Charles for putting in the effort to help her, even though she didn’t get the answer she wanted. Attached were a few paper bills as payment.

Although Edwin continued to be baffled as to how she was returning his letters, he continued sending them. As it turned out, despite having so many other children living with you, the novelty of a ‘pen pal’, as she called it, was slow to wear off. 

Letters were sent back and forth between Cairnholm and London regularly for a solid twelve years, and then, suddenly, they stopped. Edwin, unsurprisingly, began to worry. That is, until he received a letter from Florida, instead of Cairnholm.

Emma, it seemed, was doing just fine.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Skatepark

Summary: Your boyfriends pick you up from your bakery to go to the skatepark together. 

Oneshot

Fluff, Established Relationship au

TW: Skateboarding Injuries (cleaning wounds & blood)

Word Count: 2,566

Accountant! Hyunjae X Baker! Reader X Skate Shop Owner! Eric (Milric) 

[A/n: So, Eric posted some photos from the US tour on 7/31 (which I bawled to but vv unrelated) and saw Eric looking like a skater dude next to Hyunjae who looked like he worked a high-paying office job on the curb. And originally, it was just a little silly thing for me to dream up to Kebbi about two of her biases. And I made the reader a baker bc that was fun. And if it wasn’t for her bringing up baker! Younghoon. This idea might have not made it outside of our chat. So, a very special credit and thank you to @jinkoh for inspiring the fic and helping further it.]

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Younghoon looks up from the counter he's wiping down when the bell rings above the door. He looks over and sees Hyunjae and Eric walking over. He gives them a big smile as he throws the rag over his shoulder, “Oh! (Y/n)'s in the back making blueberry muffins! But I'll let them know you're here!” They both nod as he heads to the back, where you’re setting the last wrapper into the pan. You tell yourself, “Okay, last pan!” as you start pouring the batter into each tin when Younghoon goes, “Hey, your boys are here.” Your eyes widen with excitement as you quickly scrape the bowl with the spatula. “Really?!” He laughs, “Yeah.” You put the bowl down, “Can you tell them I'll be just a moment? I gotta switch the muffins around.” He nods and leaves. You get an oven mitt, grab the cooked muffins, and put them on the counter before setting the last tray in the spot it left. You pick up the hot tray off the counter and put it on the rack before removing the oven mitt and washing your hands. You wipe your hands dry before retiring your apron, leaving the kitchen. 

As you come through the swinging doors, you ask, “Younghoon?” And he perks up, “Yeah?” “You can take care of the muffins, right?” “Of course!” “And then after the last one goes on the rack-” He cuts you off, “I get to close the shop?” You roll your eyes as you nod, “Make sure they all head into the cooler before you leave, okay?” “Alright, now shoo before they eat all of our honey lemon cookies!” You look over to see your two lovers eating two cookies each. You laugh before grabbing yourself two. Before walking out from behind the counter and wishing Younghoon a good day. You join your lovers, “Okay, where are we off to?” Eric grabs your hand eagerly, and in between bites, he says, “To the skate park!” Hyunjae holds Eric’s hand, guiding you three to his car as you eat your cookies. You brush off the crumbs before getting in and sitting in the passenger seat, knowing full well that Eric was going to sprawl out with his skateboard next to him. And sure enough, you watch as he does in the rearview. You buckle in as Hyunjae shifts into drive, pulling out of the parallel parking spot. You ask Hyunjae, “So, how’s corporate?” He grins, “It was an easy day for once!” Eric gasps, “No way!” He nods, “Yeah, I got to sit back and stare at my computer all day.” And Hyunjae asks you how the bakery was, “Well, I was mainly just making muffins today for Muffin Monday.” You can hear Eric’s excitement before you see it, “Any mango?” “Have you checked the fridge?” He gasps, “Really?” “Yeah, I made a special batch for the three of us the day before.” Hyunjae looks back in the rearview mirror at him, “You didn’t eat one of yours yet?” He pouts, “No, I had to run to the skate shop... Haknyeon lost his key. So, I didn’t even have time to check the fridge.” You smile, “That means we all get mango muffins for dessert!” He grins, and you ask him how his work was, “It was easy, just mainly kids coming in for new wheels today.” You scoff, “Really? You guys had such easy jobs today.” Hyunjae instantly retorts, “As if making muffins isn’t the easiest for you…” You laugh as you surrender. 

Hyunjae parks the car, and the three of you get out, “Do either of you want to skate today?” You shake your head, “I’m whooped from muffin making.” And he nods, but Hyunjae goes, “Yeah, only if you skate with me!” Eric grins, “This is why I always come prepared!” He pulls out a second board, handing Hyunjae his spare before grabbing his hand and rushing them into the park together. You shake your head at them, the two always eager to play. You sit on the bench and watch as Eric helps Hyunjae get into all his gear before Eric puts only a helmet on. And you listen, “You remember what I taught you, right?” Hyunjae nods and gets on the board with ease. Eric encourages him, and they both wave goodbye to you before heading over to the bowl. You watch them drop in, with Hyunjae letting out a little yelp as he does. The two carve around the bowl while you stretch out, letting your joints finally rest after continuously using them for the past six hours. 

While Hyunjae is still rocking in the bowl, Eric pops out and skates over to you, making a quick stop in front of you. “Do you want anything, babe?” You smile, “A water would be nice.” He smiles as he skates over to the vending machine and gets you one. He returns, kicking up his board and sitting beside you to watch Hyunjae skate, “Here you go~” “Thanks, love.” He gives you a kiss, and you two talk for a second. When you hear a little shout of, “Er-Eric!” You peek over and see Hyunjae struggling to get the momentum up again to pop out of the bowl, and you both let out a little laugh. Before Eric goes, “Duty calls!” You shake your head as Eric raises his hand to the sky as if he’s the skateboarding superman and drops in. You peer over to watch him help Hyunjae get the speed back up and help him out of the bowl before popping back onto his board. 

When Hyunjae shakily makes it out of the bowl, you pat the bench, “Come on, you deserve it…” He laughs as he removes his gear before falling onto the bench beside you. After you take another sip of your water, you ask, “Water?” He hums and takes the bottle from you before drinking some. He puts it on the ground for the two of you, and you both watch Eric. “You did well in the bowl this time!” He grins, “I’m improving.” You hum, “I think so.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to practice that new trick you mastered.” 

“You mean the Ollie?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s so fun, but I’m too tired, honey.” 

“Promise us, we’ll see you be cool next time?” 

“Promise.” 

When another voice from beside you say, “We’re holding you to that!” That’s when you see Eric standing beside the two of you. “How did you get here so quietly?” He smirks, “I’m a pro.” You laugh, “I guess so. But I promise.” And the two of them grin and tell you, “Good.” Eric smiles and goes, “Okay, now you guys gotta watch~” You both nod and watch as he heads to the other side of the skatepark, hops up onto a rail, gliding across it. And when it ends, he lands a flip off of it. Hyunjae mutters, “He’s so cool…” You laugh as you agree, “He is.” 

You watch as he heads to the cloverleaf bowl, his favorite. He blows you each a kiss and waits for you two to catch and keep them before dropping in, causing you both to giggle. You watch as he comes back up, doing a 180° turn. He picks up speed and skates around the edge of the cloverleaf. His grin makes you both happy as he rides around before heading back into it. He pops out and lands an ollie before skating along the edge of another piece of concrete and pop shoves off of it. 

You lean your head against Hyunjae’s shoulder as you watch Eric skate around. And ask, “Did you get your lunch?” He kisses the top of your head before answering, “I never leave home without it.” “What did Eric write you?” And he sings, “Sting like a bee, honey~.” You both giggle, and he asks, “What about yours?” You laugh as you remember yours, “Make your treats full of love, love.” Which makes him laugh, and you ask, “Do you think Eric grabbed our lunch note?” Hyunjae hums and goes, “Let’s find out.” “Babe! What did our note say?!” And Eric skids to a halt as he grins, “Skate on, Babe!” You both grin, and he does too, before pushing off to continue skating around, using the empty park to his advantage. You three were the only ones at the park today, but considering it was an early afternoon on a Sunday, it wasn’t surprising. Hyunjae rests his arm around your shoulder as he watches, “I wonder if Eric will show us any new tricks today.” You hum, “Maybe?” You watch him do a few kickflips before he drops back into the cloverleaf. 

It all happens so fast. One second Eric’s up, catching his board in his hand with a giant grin on his face as he spins in the air. And the next, his board slips out from under his feet, and he starts falling without it. You both watch in horror as Eric lands on his side. Since you’re the only ones in the park, you both can hear the echo of his shirt ripping as he presumably skids down and his pained groans. You both spring into action, rushing over to the cloverleaf, and find Eric clutching his knee and arm. You call out, “Nothing broke!?” As Hyunjae slides down into the bowl. You hear his voice break as he answers, “No…” You nod, “I’m gonna get the car!” Hyunjae throws his key up to you. And you catch it and run over to the car, pulling it up to the gate that leads out. 

You pop open the back seat door, and while Hyunjae carries Eric over, you grab the two boards and water you three left behind. When you get back to the car, you put the boards on the passenger side floorboard before hopping into the front seat. You check the rearview mirror as you click your seatbelt in and see Eric’s face shoved into Hyunjae’s stomach as he cries. Your heart sinks as you get your mind into gear and quickly drive the three of you home. You get out first, opening Hyunjae’s door before going, “I’ll meet you two upstairs?” Hyunjae nods as he gathers Eric in his arms. You rush up the stairs and unlock your apartment door, leaving it unlocked so Hyunjae can easily open it. 

You get out the first aid kit and clean your hands, prepping for a bloody and crying Eric. It wasn’t often that he got injured since he’s been skating since he was a kid. But when he did, it was messy. And this time was no different. Hyunjae carries him into the bathroom, and you hear him softly coo, “It’s okay, babe…” He sets him on the bathroom counter, and you give him a small smile, “Let’s get you all cleaned up, babe…” He sniffles as his tears stream down his cheeks, and he nods. You peel his ruined shirt off, and he gasps from the sting, and you quickly apologize, “Sorry…” He nods, and thankfully it’s mostly surface level on his left upper arm. 

When you grab the disinfectant spray, he recoils, “It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You shake your head, “It never has before…” He gulps, “Positive?” You nod, and you spray it over his wound, and he winces even though it isn’t painful. You clean it up with some cotton pads, carefully go over the deeper cuts. You start bandaging him up, and he lets out a little sigh as you finish up. But as you go to clean his knee, his body shivers as he lets out a sob, and you look at him, “S-sorry. It just stung when you… when you moved the air in the room.” You nod, careful not to make another gust, “It’s okay, babe. No need to apologize. I’m going to spray your knee, okay?” He breathes in deeply, trying to control his tears as you spritz the disinfectant. You notice how deep it is and look up at him again. You ask, “Did you land mainly on your knee?” He nods and hisses as you wipe away the dried blood. And he's a bawling mess all over again as you patch him up. You look at Hyunjae and see him leaning against the doorway, watching you two. He gives you a fond smile as you clean Eric's wound, and you smile back over at him. You start dressing his wound and kiss Eric’s bandage knee. Hyunjae comes over and kisses Eric’s bandaged arm, “We gotta kiss it all better, right?” Eric sniffles, “Y-Yeah…” 

Hyunjae leaves the bathroom and comes back with a soft shirt and sweatpants. “You want help into them?” He nods, and you both carefully take off his shorts and help him into the soft sweatpants, careful not to rub against his newly bandaged knee. Hyunjae helps him slip the shirt over his head and carefully over his wrapped arm. When his fluffy head pops out, Hyunjae and you share a look before kissing his cheeks. And his ears turn red, and you tease, “Now you blush, babe?” He pouts and lets out another sniffle, and you both can’t help but kiss his pout away. “Would a mango muffin make you feel all better?” He sniffles before nodding, “That would be nice.” You both help him into the living room as he lets out little hisses of pain, walking over to the couch. You sit beside him as Hyunjae gets the muffins, and Eric cuddles up to you. 

Eric leans his head against your chest, letting out a sniffle. He says, “My left side hurts bad, love…” You gasp as you run your fingers through his hair, “Did you scrape that too?” He shakes his head, “No… just in general.” You sigh, “Oh… I know, babe.” You kiss the top of his head as Hyunjae returns, “A muffin for each of us~” You take yours, and Eric happily eats his with the mango juice Hyunjae got him. 

As the three of you finally relax, you idle into easy conversations. “You were so cute, blubbering with tears.” And Eric scoffs, “I was not crying.” You laugh, “Oh, you so were.” He shakes his head, “Nuh-huh.” Hyunjae smirks, ruffling Eric’s hair, “You’re cute when you cry~” And Eric pouts, “I wasn’t…” You both giggle at his antics. You place a kiss on his cheek while Hyunjae places a kiss on his forehead. He scoffs again and crosses his arms over his chest. The action causing him to hiss in pain, but you both knew what he wanted. So, you both roll your eyes at him, and you grab his chin and bring him into a kiss. He sighs in contentment, and you both break away before Hyunjae quickly cuts in, pulling Eric’s chin towards him to kiss. When they part, you pout, “Where’s my kiss… I haven’t gotten a real one all day...” And Hyunjae laughs at you before grasping your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. When you pull away, Eric’s pouting again, “I want my injury cuddles...” You both grin at your scraped up lover, and settle happily around him, careful to not brush against his scrapes. And he settles further into the couch cushions and into your guys’ comforting holds.